Read Online Kiss the Ring by Meesha Mink - Free Book Online

mess that website up. Don’t be a dumb-ass your whole life.”
    The voices rose up again.
    Naeema laughed at the ruckus and knocked on the black door, which was already cracked open. She left it that waywhen she walked in. Derek was an ex-dope dealer turned legit businessman in his mid-thirties. He was married but he kept enough random women streaming in and out of the barber shop, liquor store, and hair care store he operated in the mini-mall that Naeema didn’t trust his ass at all .
    Especially since they’d fucked before.
    It was years ago. He wasn’t married yet or completely out of the dope game. She was just an eighteen-year-old self-taught barber cutting hair for the fellas in the neighborhood in between living life to the fullest. Her boyfriend at the time, a dude named Romeo, had talked her into getting her barber’s license so she could eventually work in a shop and make more money than she got doing bootleg cuts. Derek had come to the school to recruit new barbers and she’d caught his wandering eye. When she peeped his whip and his fly gear, she forgot how ugly he was or that she had a boyfriend when he offered her a job as an apprentice . . . if she let him smash.
    That was over ten years ago and she hated that she had a memory of how rough he fucked. Dick too big and thrusts too hard for that shit to be any good. Maybe he had finessed his sex game since then? Naeema didn’t give a fuck either way.
    â€œHey, Derek.”
    He gave her a once-over before he dropped the pen he held onto his desk that was straight out of the 1990s. “Welcome back, Na,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
    His looks were hard to define. He straddled the line between ugly and cute. It all depended on where you stood when you looked at him and if your eyes were squinted. Like the old folks used to say: he was so ugly he was cute.
    What earned him all the pussy was his money, his popularity in the hood, and his style. He stayed dressed nice, hair cut, jewelry in place, swagger in a thousand, and smelling good. The women—especially the young ones—loved it.
    â€œThanks . . . but you know only my husband calls me Na,” she said.
    He smiled. “Word on the street y’all not together,” he said. “My bad.”
    She smiled too. “It’s still his. Matter of fact he just got it last night,” she said.
    Derek’s eyes dipped down to her pussy print in the leggings. “Damn,” he swore under his breath in obvious envy.
    They had an odd vibe. She knew he wanted to fuck. He knew she wasn’t having it. In all the years since she worked at A Cut Above he never brought up that night she let him hit it from behind right in his office on the floor, before he even had a desk. Still, she knew he never forgot and wouldn’t turn it down if she offered it to him funky. She also knew he kept her around because she was eye candy for the customers and she had a steady clientele of dudes wanting her to cut their hair. And probably give ’em some cut.
    Again, not ego, just knowledge of the allure of a big ass for a black man.
    â€œIf you need that much time off again just let me know something first,” he said, picking up his pen and giving his attention to the papers on his desk.
    â€œYou’re right, Derek, I shoulda handled that better. I apologize,” she said, then turned and left his office.
    She gave him that respect because he gave her the respect of not telling any of the fellas in the shop that she had fucked to get put on. Even if it was so long ago, theknuckleheads wouldn’t let it ride. Once a woman was classified as a ho there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to change it.
    She made her way back to her station, her eyes instantly glancing out the window to make sure her motorcycle was okay. Not that anybody would dare mess with it. There were too many fellas hanging outside the shop for one, and second,