Vexed 3, page 17
“No, I’m not, Kela. I like the outfit. I really do. I think you’re going to look fierce at the concert.”
“Chill with all that pettiness, y’all. Here comes Rashawn,” Yashia whispered. “Be nice, because he’s doing all of us a favor by voluntarily driving our asses to the concert.”
“Humph, he’s doing even bigger favors for one of us and not the others.”
Yashia and Nahima cast curious eyes on Kela, but she shifted her eyes to Ryan and watched her fidget nervously with her fork.
“What’s up, ladies?”
“Hey, Rashawn,” everyone except Ryan practically sang in unison.
Kela didn’t miss that her bestie had yet to open her mouth. As a matter of fact, her eyes were glued to her hands on the table. Being straight-up messy, Kela smiled and said, “Thank you in advance for the ride to the concert, Rashawn. I know you only offered to drive us because you like Nahima.”
That comment made all three of the other members of the clique and Rashawn visibly uncomfortable, but Ryan took the hardest hit. She actually flinched and grabbed her fruit punch and started gulping it down.
“You’re welcome, but it ain’t no problem at all. Nahima is my friend, so when Ryan told me about her situation, I decided to help her out. Anyway, let me leave you ladies so y’all can finish eating. I’ve got to hit the chemistry lab.”
Before Rashawn walked off, he looked at Ryan with lustful eyes and smiled like he could see straight through her clothes. Nahima and Yashia might have missed it, but Kela’s eyes didn’t miss shit.
* * *
Nahima checked the email address one more time before she pressed the send button. She hoped the judge would listen to every word she’d recorded and grant Jay visitation rights with Jalen so they could be a family. Nahima had already made up her mind that she would move out of her parents’ house to live with Jay as soon as she got settled after her release. She was going to cook and clean for her and sew her beautiful clothes. It was going to be the happiest day of her life to finally have her real mother as the center of her world.
There was a knock on the door as Nahima prepared to start sewing, and it annoyed her. She had been working on the video since returning home from school, and now that she’d finally sent it off, she was ready to finish sewing the ruffles on the hem of Santana’s cousin’s dress. Her plan was to have it done before Friday. That was why she didn’t have time for a lecture from her mom right now, but evidently, Venus couldn’t take the hint that she was being ignored. So she knocked again.
“I’m busy doing homework, Mom! I’ll be done in about an hour.”
“Girl, open the door! It’s me, Yashia.”
Nahima jumped up from her desk and ran to the door and opened it wide. Yashia rushed past her and dropped down on her bed.
“What are you doing here?”
“I got some hot tea, but you ain’t going to like it, girl.”
“What?”
“The fashion show has been postponed or maybe even cancelled. Somebody broke into Mrs. Moran’s class and stole five hundred dollars of the ticket money. We can’t pay for the refreshments, security, the runway construction, the awards, or anything else if we don’t have enough money. Some thief robbed us, girl. I can’t believe that shit.”
Nahima sat down next to Yashia on the bed and laid her head on her shoulder and pretended to cry.
“I’m sorry, bestie. I know how much the fashion show meant to you. It was going to be your night to shine. Our project would’ve won first place, and everybody would’ve been talking about your skills. I’m so sorry, Nahima.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Hey, bae, come and check this out.”
When Ryan turned around, she saw Rashawn holding up the jumpsuit she had spotted when they’d first entered the store. After flipping the price tag over, she’d put it back on the rack because it was too rich for her blood. Chase had sent her exactly $200 to buy something nice to wear to the Quay concert, but she didn’t want to spend it all. Ryan would scrub floors at a gas station for that jumpsuit, but she was a very practical person who knew her limits. Even with the storewide discount of 25 percent off, she still couldn’t afford the jumpsuit and have money left over, which was her goal.
“Try this cheetah jumpsuit on. I think you’ll look hella sexy in it. It’s a size six, your size, and it’s the only one like it in the entire store. God’s got His eyes on you, girl.”
Ryan laughed hysterically. “Boy, these are not cheetah spots. They’re leopard spots.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s the difference?”
“Leopard spots are black with a brown center. Cheetah spots are all black.”
“Thank you for teaching me that, because I damn sure didn’t know.”
“You’re welcome. Now put the jumpsuit back, and come with me to the clearance rack.” Ryan grabbed Rashawn’s hand and tried to pull him away, but he didn’t budge.
“I want you to try the jumpsuit on for me.”
“Why?”
“I saw you pick it up when we first got here, and I noticed how your eyes lit up. You want that jumpsuit, Ryan, so try it on.”
“No. It costs too much. I mean, I have enough money to buy it, but I always like to put some money aside just in case my mom needs me to help her out.”
Rashawn pressed the stylish jumpsuit against Ryan’s shoulder. “Go and try it on. I’ll be sitting outside the dressing room waiting to see how it looks on you.”
A few minutes later, Ryan walked out of the dressing room feeling like a supermodel. The soft fabric of the jumpsuit caressed every inch of her petite figure like a second layer of skin. The halter bodice put her slender neck and toned upper arms on full display. Cool air kissed her exposed back, compliments of the deep dip that stopped right above her ass. It had a tapered waistline that made her hourglass figure pop and accentuated her tight, round bottom, which was firm and demanded attention. Even the wide pants were the perfect length, and they flowed and whispered as she walked.
Bashfully, she did a slow stroll toward Rashawn, who was walking in her direction, smiling and looking at her with twinkling eyes.
“I don’t know who the hell Apri Osagah is, but he or she made that damn jumpsuit for you, Ryan Mathis. It’s you all day long. I want it to be yours because you look so good in it.”
“But I don’t—”
“It’s not up for discussion. Let me pay for it, and you can repay me in glasses of cranberry lemonade. That pitcher you made the other night at your crib tasted better than what they serve at Wings Wizard. All you have to do is make some every time I visit you.”
“My mama taught me not to accept gifts from men, because nothing in life is free.”
“Ms. Tasha is right about that, because most men do expect something in return when they shell out cash on a woman, but that’s not me. I promise you it’s not, Ryan. Trust me to buy that jumpsuit for you, and you have my word that all I want in return is for you to look pretty at the concert and a thousand glasses of cranberry lemonade.”
“All right, you can buy it for me. Thank you, Rashawn.” Fresh tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
“Hey, don’t cry, baby. I want you to be happy.” He reached out, pulled her against his chest, and wrapped his arms around her tiny waist.
“I am happy. That’s why I’m crying.”
Rashawn laughed and kissed Ryan’s forehead.
* * *
“Okay, Nahima, you’re in charge. Don’t let your baby brother and younger cousins run over you.”
“I won’t, Uncle Zach.”
“If anything gets out of hand, please call Aunt Jackie, and if it’s an emergency, Dr. and Mrs. Peyton live right around the corner. Their number is on the refrigerator and on the coffee table.”
Nahima nodded at Jill. She wasn’t about to say a word to her black ass.
“Go ahead and eat the pizza and wings while everything is still hot, and Zach Jr. and Zion will clean the kitchen before you and Jalen start baking cookies. Remember to be careful with the peanut butter because Zion is allergic.”
“I know, Uncle Zach.”
“Dad, you and Mom can leave now. Nahima can handle it, and I can help her.”
Zach looked at Zach Jr. with a hard expression as if he were trying to remember something. “Make sure my li’l dawg takes a shower and brushes his teeth before he starts baking cookies with Nahima.”
“I don’t need him to help me. I’m a big boy!”
“Zachary, let’s go, honey. I think they will be fine. I’m ready to dance.”
“Yeah, get out of here! Go!”
“Leave already!”
“Bye, Mommy! I love you!”
Jill hugged Jalen and kissed his nose. “I love you more.”
Zach lifted the handle on the rolling suitcase and headed for the door with Jill close behind him. Nahima couldn’t have been happier that they were finally leaving. She watched Zach Jr., Zion, and Jalen walk their parents to the door and kiss them goodbye with a satisfied smile on her face. Everything was running as smooth as butter according to her plan.
* * *
Nahima straddled Santana and leaned over to brush her hard nipple across his open mouth, teasing him. He growled and raised his head an inch or two from the blanket on the floor, trying to suck one of her breasts. Nahima threw her head back and moaned in her throat when Santana trapped her left nipple between his lips and sucked it hard, scraping it with the edges of his teeth. She sat up straight and tried to make out his facial features—his bronze skin, full gold grill, slanted eyes, and narrow nose—through the thick darkness. Beads of sweat glistened under the hairline of his tapered curly hair as she leaned in again and plunged her tongue deep into his mouth, ingesting the tastes of alcohol and potent marijuana.
Nahima’s kisses grew urgent and hungrier as Santana massaged and gripped her bare ass, pushing her leaking pussy closer to his thick balls covered with spiraling hairs. His hard dick, thick and long, tapped against her flat belly as precum seeped from its tip. Nahima gripped it and slid her palm up and down the length of it, causing Santana to grit his teeth and pant for air.
“Put that mouth to work,” he grumbled, smacking Nahima hard on the thigh with an open palm.
Without any acknowledgment of his words, she slithered down his sweaty body and started licking his dick while working her palm up and down it with pressure. Now on her knees, head down and ass up, Nahima covered just the sensitive, oozing head of Santana’s penis with her mouth. She pulled on it with powerful suction and twirled her tongue slowly around its circumference. He reached down and sliced his fingers through her Afro, pressing her head downward, which forced many more inches of his rock-solid dick into her mouth and down her throat. But like a pro, she swallowed him without gagging and started sucking and slurping. Her head began to bob up and down rhythmically, strings of thick saliva dripping from her throat and onto his pubic hairs.
Growing thicker and more rigid as it slid in and out of Nahima’s throat, Santana’s dick started to pulsate. She raised her head with force, releasing it slowly, inch by inch from her oral control. She lifted her hips with his wet, stiff dick in her palm and slid her pussy down on it, taking it all the way in until she felt her ass cheeks slam against his nuts. Nahima started bucking, bouncing, and rolling her hips slowly at first before she picked up her pace. The ride was bumpy, but her pussy was popping and creaming out of control because it felt so damn good. Santana’s dick was hitting all of her hot spots, and she was tightening her walls around his thickness, making him moan in soprano like a bitch. And she was hissing between his moans.
“Let me hit it from the back.”
Like an obedient dog, Nahima rolled off Santana and assumed the position. He climbed behind her, grabbed her roughly around her waist, and rammed his dick into her forcefully with no mercy.
“Ouch!”
“Shut up and take this dick, girl!”
After about five fast and sloppy thrusts with his thumb inserted all the way in her asshole, Santana growled like a wild animal and busted a strong nut, sending a stream of hot semen into Nahima’s tight and underdeveloped walls. He then collapsed his full weight on top of her back, trapping her underneath him. Gravelly snores soon followed, and she wiggled and pushed her way from under his sleeping body. Nahima flipped over onto her back next to Santana and closed her eyes. She inhaled the scent of their musky sex and smiled before she dozed off.
* * *
“I want my mommy!” Jalen ran into Zion’s room crying.
She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes, before she opened her arms to her little brother. “What’s wrong, Jalen?”
“I want Mommy!”
“Where is Nahima? I thought she was sleeping in your room with you.”
“I don’t know. She’s gone.” He began to whimper pitifully. “I want Mommy!”
“Don’t cry, Jalen. You can sleep with me. Mom and Dad will be home early in the morning, okay?”
“Okay.”
Zion lifted Jalen into her bed and placed him on the other side of her, close to the wall. She rubbed his back, attempting to soothe him. She hoped he would soon fall asleep. Zion wondered where Nahima was and why she had left Jalen alone when it had been her idea to sleep in his room with him instead of in hers.
Chapter Thirty
“A’ight, I gotta get out of here, shawty. Bein’ over here in Beverly Hills around all these rich folks in mansions and shit fucks with a nigga’s nerves. I gotta get back to the hood where shit is real and niggas know each other and look out for each other.”
“You didn’t act like you were nervous when you were eating my uncle’s food and drinking his good liquor. You weren’t thinking about your peeps in the hood when you were fucking me either.”
“Man, whatever.”
Nahima tapped the garment bag draped over Santana’s forearm. “Your cousin is going to love her dress. Make sure you tell her it’s an original creation. I sewed my signature tag in the back so she can see it.”
“Don’t worry. She gon’ like it ’cause it’s a gift from me.”
“Please take some pictures of her wearing it and send them to me so I can add them to my portfolio.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. What else?”
“Nothing.” Nahima reached up and wrapped her arms around Santana’s neck and kissed his lips. He grabbed a handful of her bare ass when her short gown inched above her thighs. She released him and slid her palm down his chest. Then she opened the door, and he stepped outside into the night.
“Call me.”
“I will, but I got shit to do in the mornin’ for Sarge.”
“All right. Hit me up when you can then.”
Santana looked around as he made sluggish steps up the walkway toward his car that looked very much out of place in the exclusive gated community. The security guard was probably suspicious when he called her on the land line to make sure it was okay to allow him through the gate.
Nahima closed the door and secured the locks. As she was entering the alarm’s security code into the keypad, she heard a bumping noise on the steps. She spun around and almost screamed when she saw Zion running up the stairs.
“Come here, you little sneaky heifer!” She stomped toward the stairs.
Zion froze. Obviously frightened, her deep intakes of air were loud enough for Nahima to hear from the bottom of the stairs.
“Get down here now, Zion!”
The child walked down the steps slowly with her head down. She was rubbing her hands together nervously.
“How long were you standing on the steps, and what did you see?”
Zion narrowed her eyes at Nahima and didn’t utter a word.
“You better answer me right now!” she barked, yanking the child by the collar of her nightgown. “Tell me!”
Zion snatched away from Nahima. “Don’t you put your hands on me. I’ll call Mom and Dad and tell them you let a stranger in our house! I’ll tell them you left Jalen in his room alone and he woke up scared and crying, too!”
“Okay, Zion, calm down. Look, I shouldn’t have put my hands on you, and I was wrong to invite my friend over, but please don’t snitch. I’m your big cousin. We’re supposed to be girls, right?”
“I guess so. But why is your boyfriend so old?”
“He’s not old, Zion.”
“Yes, he is. He’s twenty-two and you’re only fifteen. He’s an adult and you’re a teenager. He’s too old for you.”
Nahima walked closer to Zion, pissed the hell off with her hands clenched into tight fists. She wanted to punch the little sneaky-ass kid so bad that she was shaking. “How do you know how old my boyfriend is? Who told you that, Zach Jr.?”
“Nope.” Zion leaned against the safety rail with her arms folded over her flat chest. “I heard you tell my brother that your boyfriend’s name is Santana, he’s Puerto Rican, and he’s twenty-two years old. I was standing right behind y’all in the great room when you were talking to him the last time you came over here. And I saw what you were doing in my bathroom when you were FaceTiming him, too. You’re nasty!”
“Ssshhh. Be quiet.” Nahima reached for Zion, but she moved out of her reach, walking backward up the stairs.
“Are you going to tell Uncle Zach on me?”
“I don’t know yet. Maybe I will or maybe I won’t.”
“Please don’t tell. I’ll give you some money and bake some more sugar cookies.”
“How much money?”
“I’ll give you fifty dollars, and it’ll be our secret.”
“No deal. I already have ninety dollars, and there’s a whole bowl of sugar cookies in the kitchen. I’m going back to bed with my little brother now, and you better not try to mess with me either. Bye!”
Zion sprinted up the steps so fast that Nahima couldn’t catch her even if she’d wanted to. Her body jerked when she heard the little demon slam her bedroom door. Nahima sat down on the steps with her head between her hands, mad and worried about the bullshit she was now in. If Zion snitched on her, all hell would break loose. Uncle Zach would be pissed, and he would never trust her for as long as she lived. He would definitely tell her mom, which meant she would be grounded again and probably wouldn’t be allowed to go to the Quay concert. And she could forget about her plan to keep Jalen overnight so she could sneak him to Leesworth to visit Jay.
