me!” Nene said crossing her arms across her chest. “I don’t mind living another day. I’m rolling with you playboy,” Nene said hooking her arm in his. “This bitch swear she Coffee Brown or some damn body.”
“Whatever,” China said sucking her teeth and walking ahead of them.
Who the hell this nigga think he is? He ain’t getting shit from me, China thought to herself.
China walked right through the club mean mugging Whitey who was now sitting at the bar surrounded by his bodyguards. Clay kept close watch making sure nobody wanted to prove their gangsta. China flipped Whitey the finger adding fuel to the fire before slipping out into the brisk weather of January, allowing the cold air to numb her senses. Seeing Clay bought back unwanted memories. He’s the reason Dre is dead, and she isn’t ready to forgive just yet.
“Thank you Clay,” Nene purred her light brown eyes glowing underneath the moonlight. Clay is definitely eye candy with his smooth caramel skin, full pink lips and dreamy hazel eyes. To her he looked like a taller version of T.I. His hair is full of perfect waves, enough to make you seasick. She wouldn’t mind letting him melt in her mouth. His act of bravery had her panties moist all over again, and she was ready to fuck.
“No, problem,” he said unhooking his arm from hers. “Look, China I-,”
“Save it,” China said holding up her hand, cutting him off in midsentence. “Can you unlock the door?” Nene did as she was told. China quickly hopped into Nene’s Honda Accord and turned her entire body the opposite direction to avoid eye contact with Clay. She was on the verge of breaking down, but she sucked it up and somehow managed to keep her composure.
Clay looked at China and simply shook his head. She still stubborn , he thought to himself. This is going to be harder than I thought. “A’ight y’all be safe,” Clay said backing away from the car.
“Wait,” Nene said grabbing his arm. “I really appreciate what you did back there. Is there anyway I can get your number so that we can keep in touch?”
Clay eyed Nene up and down. He had to admit she wasn’t hard on the eyes at all. The way her ass filled out the low rider jeans she wore had his manhood standing at attention, but she had a reputation. He wasn’t feeling that. “Nah, I’m good.”
Nene dropped her jaw and slowly picked her face up off the ground. Damn, he just played me , she thought to herself as she made her way to the driver’s side. “Well, thanks again,” she shouted before ducking into the car.
Clay watched them leave. China never even bothered to look his way. He wasn’t expecting her to embrace him with open arms, but he didn’t think she would be this cold. He knew she still blamed him for what happened to Dre, he still blamed himself. Dre always tried to talk to him about leaving the street life alone and go legit, but Clay being young was in love with being a thug and all that came with it. He was stacking paper, kept plenty of ice, and pussy was being thrown at him on a daily basis. But like Biggie Smalls said more money more problems. His status in the streets, made him the target of many, like his second in command of his operation, Mince.
Mince was greedy and wanted to take over the empire that Clay had worked so hard and effortlessly to build. Mince put a hit out on Clay, but in the casualties of war stray bullets don’t have names. Clay and Dre just left the strip club after making it rain on them hoes, down in Baltimore. As always Clay got pissy drunk, automatically assigning Dre as the designated driver. The windows were tinted deep on his chromed out Denali, so the shooter assumed that Clay was driving. They were both hit but Dre’s wounds were fatal. He died that night in Clay’s arms before they even made it to the hospital. Clay shook his head to relieve himself of the memory. He still had nightmares about
“Whatever,” China said sucking her teeth and walking ahead of them.
Who the hell this nigga think he is? He ain’t getting shit from me, China thought to herself.
China walked right through the club mean mugging Whitey who was now sitting at the bar surrounded by his bodyguards. Clay kept close watch making sure nobody wanted to prove their gangsta. China flipped Whitey the finger adding fuel to the fire before slipping out into the brisk weather of January, allowing the cold air to numb her senses. Seeing Clay bought back unwanted memories. He’s the reason Dre is dead, and she isn’t ready to forgive just yet.
“Thank you Clay,” Nene purred her light brown eyes glowing underneath the moonlight. Clay is definitely eye candy with his smooth caramel skin, full pink lips and dreamy hazel eyes. To her he looked like a taller version of T.I. His hair is full of perfect waves, enough to make you seasick. She wouldn’t mind letting him melt in her mouth. His act of bravery had her panties moist all over again, and she was ready to fuck.
“No, problem,” he said unhooking his arm from hers. “Look, China I-,”
“Save it,” China said holding up her hand, cutting him off in midsentence. “Can you unlock the door?” Nene did as she was told. China quickly hopped into Nene’s Honda Accord and turned her entire body the opposite direction to avoid eye contact with Clay. She was on the verge of breaking down, but she sucked it up and somehow managed to keep her composure.
Clay looked at China and simply shook his head. She still stubborn , he thought to himself. This is going to be harder than I thought. “A’ight y’all be safe,” Clay said backing away from the car.
“Wait,” Nene said grabbing his arm. “I really appreciate what you did back there. Is there anyway I can get your number so that we can keep in touch?”
Clay eyed Nene up and down. He had to admit she wasn’t hard on the eyes at all. The way her ass filled out the low rider jeans she wore had his manhood standing at attention, but she had a reputation. He wasn’t feeling that. “Nah, I’m good.”
Nene dropped her jaw and slowly picked her face up off the ground. Damn, he just played me , she thought to herself as she made her way to the driver’s side. “Well, thanks again,” she shouted before ducking into the car.
Clay watched them leave. China never even bothered to look his way. He wasn’t expecting her to embrace him with open arms, but he didn’t think she would be this cold. He knew she still blamed him for what happened to Dre, he still blamed himself. Dre always tried to talk to him about leaving the street life alone and go legit, but Clay being young was in love with being a thug and all that came with it. He was stacking paper, kept plenty of ice, and pussy was being thrown at him on a daily basis. But like Biggie Smalls said more money more problems. His status in the streets, made him the target of many, like his second in command of his operation, Mince.
Mince was greedy and wanted to take over the empire that Clay had worked so hard and effortlessly to build. Mince put a hit out on Clay, but in the casualties of war stray bullets don’t have names. Clay and Dre just left the strip club after making it rain on them hoes, down in Baltimore. As always Clay got pissy drunk, automatically assigning Dre as the designated driver. The windows were tinted deep on his chromed out Denali, so the shooter assumed that Clay was driving. They were both hit but Dre’s wounds were fatal. He died that night in Clay’s arms before they even made it to the hospital. Clay shook his head to relieve himself of the memory. He still had nightmares about
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