Chapter 6
Alana Brooks AKA Na-Na
“I knew what it was… I just knew I could turn it into more.”
Ididn’t know I had my eyes on V Saint until I did.
He was right, I did diss him back in the day, but it wasn’t because he was regular.
V Saint was always sexy, and I would have given him a chance, but I was four months pregnant at that time, and nobody knew.
I had been arguing with my BD that day and was hiding a black eye.
I ain’t want to drag another nigga in my personal life, so I rolled with the rumors that I only fucked with rich niggas.
Too embarrassed to show my real life. But that was ten years ago.
Now, what was true and didn’t change was what kind of men I was attracted to. I upgraded to rich men, it was true. I had tricks; I had sugar-baby arrangements. I’d only been seen with successful men.
That was how I built my lifestyle and my podcast, which was only for professionals. My podcast had taken off, thanks to rich men. And having V Saint on my show put me in position to quit my 9–5. The views brought in a pretty penny.
Now I was looking at him as the best thing that had happened to me.
A meal ticket I could actually fall in love with.
But I was saving love for later. I knew when he texted me two weeks later, saying, “Meet me at the Ritz,” that this was just sex.
He wasn’t looking for what his sister put out there.
So I was going to put this pussy and personality on him, so I’d be unforgettable.
“Mommy, can I go with you?”
My son came in and asked. He was ten now. Tall, but still a child, still my baby. He was a gamer and a student, sheltered in a mansion with my mother, who was also his live-in nanny. I paid her to do so.
“Not tonight. I’m going to Aunty Rema’s to watch scary movies.”
He laughed. “Oh, well, never mind.”
I started tickling him. “Lil scary boy. I’m going to make you watch Jason.”
I spent a moment with my son, then my mother came and got him for bed. I kissed his forehead and promised my mother I’d be back in a few hours. She never asked questions, just told me to be safe.
I put my overnight bag in the trunk of my Porsche truck and hit the LA streets downtown.
When I made it to the Ritz, I saw V Saint standing by the valet. He was wearing all black, fresh fade, beard lined up, and I was hoping he would let me put my pussy on it. I pulled up and rolled the window down.
“Get yo’ fine ass out, valet gon’ take your car.”
I blushed. I liked how he thought I was fine, even though I knew. I got out. “Should I grab my things?”
“Yeah, you with me for the night.”
He gave me a look, seductive but serious.
“Sounds like a one-night stand,” I smirked.
“It’s gon’ be whatever you make it to be.”
Yeah, he ’bout to fuck me through the mattress, I thought. I thought he was going to take me inside, but we walked over to a midnight blue Challenger, clean as hell.
“You overdressed, ma. We ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he said as he opened the door for me.
“I don’t know how to underdress. It’s just a dress and some heels.”
I slid in, and he closed the door.
He got in. “I forgot I have a car club meeting. Gotta pay my dues.”
He lit his blunt and started the car. The music came on loud as hell, startling me.
“Damn, nigga, turn that down,” I laughed, covering my ears.
“You wanna be wifey, you gotta get used to loud music. Hope you smoke weed. It’s part of the process.”
I laughed. “Whatever, boy. And yes, I smoke.”
He turned up the music, playing “Stacey Adams” by Snoop Dogg. He drove out of the hotel and hit the freeway, but we didn’t stay on long.
Before I knew it, we were in a whole street takeover. V Saint pulled up fast, through the crowd. We ended up in a crowd of Mustangs, Hellcats, Trackhawks, sport Benzes, the works. Luxury star car, Phantom League. I was so caught up in his professional side and forgot this was a hood nigga by night.
“You can stand in them heels for a minute?”
I laughed. “Always.”
“Well, get out with me.”
I stepped out the car and the energy was live. V-Saint kept me close like the Glock he kept in his waist. He was leaned against the car, me in front of him while he smoked and drank with his crew. He had his hand around my waist, and I couldn’t lie, I was enjoying the vibe.
“This too ghetto for you?” he asked lowly in my ear.
“No, it’s just been a min.”
At that moment, a midnight blue Mustang pulled up and the hottest producer in LA pulled up, tires screeching, loud as music, energy on ten. He stepped out loud and cocky.
“What’s the deal, bro? I see you flesh them out like an IV.”
He glared at me.
V-Saint smirked.
“You tryna make me a topic, bro?”
“Not neva,” Kairo smirked back. “I just pulled up to pay my dues, then I’m out,” V Saint said.
Kairo nodded. He then got on the phone. We kicked it with his crew a lil longer before the car club owner pulled up.
He stepped out a midnight blue Lambo truck with a money bag.
V Saint pulled a knot of money from his pocket.
He then greeted the owner, dapped him up, and then dropped the money in the bag.
“Let’s go,” he whispered to me and tapped the side of my thigh.
We got in and left the scene.
On the way there, he turned down the music at a red light.
“What you saw back there is a part of me. I ain’t no stuck-up suit and tie nigga if that’s what you lookin’ for.”
“I know who you are,” I told him.
He turned the music up and drove off.
$$$$$
We made it to his hotel, and when he opened the door, I was surprised yet pleased with the setup. It was a penthouse, and he had a big bouquet of roses on the table, a bottle of champagne and tequila, and food, real dinner. Steak, lobster, sides, the works. I was definitely starving.
“Thought this was a hood date, huh?”
He took off his shirt, then pulled me close.
“I didn’t know what to expect. Heard you’re a tough cookie.”
He chuckled. “I am.”
We sat down and started eating and drinking too much.
“So you a gold digger and only here because I’m a rich nigga now, or you really here to give this a shot?”
He folded his arms, smirked.
“It’s not what you think.” I sipped my drink.
“Well, what is it?”
“I was pregnant back then and in an abusive relationship. That’s the truth. My son is 10 now. I live for him, not a man.”
“Still doesn’t mean you ain’t here for money.”
“I’m not here for money, I’m here for what you looking for.”
He raised his eyebrow. “And what am I looking for?” he challenged.
“What your sister said… loyalty, somebody that ain’t white, not a groupie, and a female that knows her worth.”
He chuckled as he stood up. My heart began to race as he approached me. He stood in front of me and gently lifted my chin.
“That’s what you think I’m looking for?” he gazed in my eyes.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“No,” he replied, slightly aggressive.
He grabbed my hand and made me rub his manhood. I rubbed it, and he started growing.
“I need a woman that can take it.”
“I can take it.”
He chuckled. “Let’s see.”
I knew what that meant, so I pulled his dick out. It was long, thick, chocolate, and clean. My mouth watered before I even deep-throated him.
“Don’t be shy wit it, Na-Na,” he uttered, grabbing my hair and guiding me. I was drunk, so I got loose.
I heard him grunt, then he told Siri to play music. Moist by Janet Jackson started playing. The moment went from me just sucking his dick to him fucking my mouth. I was gagging and moaning while he had his eyes closed.
“Don’t throw up on it, my wifey can’t do that.”
He took his dick out my mouth and tapped it on my lips. My eyes were watery, nose running, makeup smeared. He smirked.
“You sexy, ma.”
I looked up at him. “I got condoms in my bag.”
He chuckled. “I got my own.”
He left, giving me enough time to slip off my dress.
By the time he came back, I was sitting on a barstool, taking off the rest of my makeup.
I looked at him. He was naked, rock hard, and already had the condom on.
His body was sexy, athletic, built to match his height.
I set the mirror down and sighed, praying I was ready.
God, please don’t let me go dumb over this man after this, I thought to myself.
He grabbed the rest of his cognac from the table, downed it, then walked to me.
With no words, he lifted my legs. I reached for the edge of the table when he dived into my pussy, swirling his tongue around my waxed lips.
I moaned and used my free hand to grab his head.
I hadn’t had sex in a month, so feeling his tongue on my clit had me excited.
He didn’t stay down long, though. Just enough to get me wet.
I thought he was going to take me to the bed or the couch, but he folded me up on the barstool and slid inside me slowly.
I moaned as he started stroking me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and watched him go into a trance.
He started putting in work, going deep. His stamina was on point, but I could tell he was drunk by the shit he was whispering to me.
All I heard as he kissed me, head resting on my forehead—
“Damn, this pussy too good.,” he uttered, seductively.
“I ain’t stupid, you know what you doing,” he said again.
“This pussy the devil, I ain’t callin’ you no more,”
I laughed at the last thing he said, but I was too into the moment just as much as him.
He lifted me off the chair and started holding me up, still stroking me. I screamed.
“Oh my God, you going so deep.”
My toes curled hard, but I was taking every inch of him.
“I’m about to go deeper,” he uttered low.
He finally walked me over to the living room and laid me on the plush carpet.
“Lay on yo’ stomach,” he demanded while switching condoms.
I did.
He slid back inside, smacked my ass, and got his rhythm.
He was pounding me while he gripped my neck.
He made me look at him, gripping my chin now.
He planted a sloppy kiss on my lips, drizzled spit right in my mouth, then went back to kissing me.
I didn’t mind, but I just wasn’t expecting to be a freak.
Seeing that I accepted it, his hormones must have gotten going.
We were an hour in when he uttered, “You ’bout to make me cum.”
“Cum in me, baby,” I laughed, joking.
“I am, right in this condom.”
He picked up the pace. Seconds later, he orgasmed. He was sweaty, breathing heavy, but cheesing.
“You too much. I need a moment.”
I stood up and watched him stagger to the bathroom. Honestly, I couldn’t hold water. I ran to my bag and grabbed my phone. I texted Laila and Sade in a group chat. It was late, but I knew it would be the topic of discussion by sunrise.
Me: Guess what?
Me: I went out with V Saint and let him hit. Should I be ashamed? It’s the first night!
I heard the shower run, then his voice.
“Come wash yo’ ass. You can leave in the morning. Ain’t nobody walking you out.”
I snickered and slid my phone in my purse. I heard he didn’t let chicks spend the night, and here I was, not leaving till morning.
I knew I was in the door… hopefully.