Chapter 9
Verse Nine
Pulling up, Chaney became excited. She hadn’t seen her man all day.
She’d completed three sew-ins, two installs, and one re-twist, which had her wrists tender from the constant rolling.
Usually, when that happened, Donovan would soothe her ache with some rubbing alcohol while she rattled on about her day.
He wasn’t like most men she’d dated before she started dating women.
All they wanted to do was eat, smoke, eat and smoke some more, talk about themselves, and then have sex.
They were boys who were only interested in superficial conversations that often left her feeling empty.
She may have been ratchet, but since she was a little girl, Chaney always dreamed big.
Donovan, thus far, fit the bill. Some days, she’d leave her salon exhausted, yet she would still come through the studio to see him.
He’d quickly take a break to check in on her well-being, from a quick foot rub to him ordering food.
If she wasn’t sleepy, he’d sit her on his lap and love on her until her eyes grew heavy.
She’d never been with a man who found everything she did to be just as important as his career goals. After leaving The Palace, once she and Kaleela broke up, Donovan was the first one she shared with that she wanted to open up her own salon.
Without hesitation, he called up a few realtors he’d done business with before they secured their current studio.
It was in the heart of the hood, too, and close to downtown Miami, which was deemed prime real estate.
It was also a hot spot where tourists and celebrities frequented, which was strategic.
In his eyes, his girl’s name and skills warranted that level of clientele, and for the first time in her life, celebrities knew her name.
Still, no matter how much money she made, Chaney was comfortable in her own skin. She knew she was a hood chick and made no apologies for it. She smoked, drank, ate hot sausages, pickled eggs, and loved a good chicken wing and fry dinner from the corner store.
However, when she had to tone it down, she knew how to after she’d learned a few etiquette tips over the years from Shonasia.
She was still cordial toward to her, despite her breakup with Kaleela.
Still, she was grateful. In the future, she hoped she and Kaleela could become friends, but for the moment, no contact at all was best, and Donovan agreed.
“Oh, hell no! What the fuck is really going on?” she released in disbelief.
She watched with a lowered jaw as his ex-girlfriend, Sashay, zoomed past her with a wiggle of her fingers.
Even if she hadn’t acknowledged her, she’d recognize that bright, fiery-red Ford Focus with her eyes closed.
It was beyond tacky. She also concluded that red was Sashay’s favorite color.
It had to be since she constantly sported red, nappy-haired weave and baby hairs that practically covered her eyebrows.
Hopping out, Chaney took off and barged inside the studio when her eyes landed on her man.
“Donovan,” she said with a growl through gritted teeth. Her chest heaved up and down as she approached him. “May I have a word with you in private?”
She heard his boys snicker under their breath, especially since she called him by his government name and not Dread Man, the one the streets called him.
It was also a sign she wasn’t too pleased with the current love of her life.
Neither was he, at the tone she’d taken.
He didn’t care about the audience. He cared about respect, and she’d interrupted his session with negative energy.
Scratching his head, he pushed out a puff of air as he followed her into the spare room he used as a place to rest. He plopped onto the bed.
With a tilt of his head, he took in Chaney’s flushed skin.
She paced back and forth until he grabbed her hand, then pulled her between his legs.
He despised arguing, and because that was all she’d done with Kaleela, he didn’t want to repeat history.
“Talk to me, baby.” He licked his lips as he admired her thick ass, hips, and thighs.
“Don’t,” she cautioned him. When she tilted her head back, tears rained down her cheeks. “I can’t do this shit again.” He knew then that she saw Sashay, and he felt like shit. It was more than what it looked like, but he’d never dismiss her feelings.
Kissing her slightly exposed stomach, he whispered, “Don’t trip.”
He kissed her slightly exposed stomach a few more times before he wrapped his arms around her waist. If nothing else, Donovan’s love language was physical touch. She was used to it, but with Kaleela, she was only fond of it in private.
“Look at me.” He swiped her cheek as she grunted, but she gave him her eyes. “She was only here a hot second. That’s it. I had to shoot her a band to handle something.”
“A band? For fucking what?” She took a few steps backward before he pulled her back in. “Bitches with dry ass weave like that ain’t spending a band on hairdos, Donovan!”
“Girl, lower your fucking voice,” he warned her, looking at the door.
He never pillow-talked when it came to him and Chaney, even where Scooter was concerned.
He’d done enough of that with Sashay, which was one reason that they weren’t together.
She wanted to be one of the boys, which also meant getting her hands dirty.
He’d rather she didn’t, but once she jumped off the porch, it wasn’t much longer before she was caught while transporting for him.
“Her granny asked me for it the other day when I was on her street, picking Speedy up, or that’s what Shay said when she saw us. It slipped my mind, but when it hit me, I just told her to come through. Better I see her here than at her spot or mine.”
“Fucking right,” she agreed with crossed arms.
“Girl.”
He tugged her arms free before he held both of her hands in his. They were soft, really soft. He wished he could feel her fingers wrapped around his length as his dick hardened. He loved that shit. He pecked the palm of both hands.
“The fuck would I try to go there with her when I have you?”
“I don’t know, but riddle me this. I get the bitch looked out for you since she didn’t snitch, but what has she done for herself and her granny since she’s been out?
It’s been three years. What does that dated, still wearing Dots and Rainbow’s Fashion outfit ass hoe want? To be a dependent on your tax return?”
“Hey, I can’t call it,” he lied because the truth was, he did know.
He was more than her meal ticket. He was that for her entire family.
He had to be since they looked out for him, especially her grandmother.
Once she put her life on hold to do her time, he’d penciled her in as a line item and had been paying her ever since.
“Well, help me understand why her granny’s hand is still out.”
He smiled, watching his girl get all in her feelings about a bitch he didn’t even want. Sashay was fine, but Chaney was finer than a motherfucker. He was watching her fat snatch on display while she went on and on as he pulled her by her waist, sliding his hands down and cupping her ass cheeks.
“Donovan, I’m serious,” she whined. Her girly parts thumped as he placed kisses against her lower lips on the outside of her tights.
“Me too.” He pecked her lips. “That door locked?”
He stepped back and tucked his lips, taking in red tights that hugged her curved frame and off-the-shoulder white shirt that hung just below her ass.
“Damn, baby, you really went to work like this? Got my dick hard.”
He didn’t want to argue about Sashay. It was a waste of time, and nothing he said would change what she saw. He wasn’t hiding his ex, but he also didn’t feel like having the same damn conversation.
“Ughhhh, Donovan.” She whimpered, his hand cupping one of her cantaloupe-sized breasts.
They, too, were just the right size for him.
Hell, everything about her was perfect, even her self-perceived flaws, like her lack of rhythm or kitchen-challenged skills.
She could feed him a decent meal, but all his favorites, like seven cheese macaroni or pigeon peas and rice, were still a reach for her.
“Donovan,” she sang.
She knew it was a distraction technique, yet she felt herself falling into his trap. While she enjoyed the gentle touch of a woman, she couldn’t deny that the touch of a man had sent her to higher sexual heights she’d never experienced before.
“We need to talk through our shit sometimes.”
“And I need to taste this pussy.” He French-kissed her navel, pulling her tights over her hips and down her ass. Her essence, coupled with her shea body butter, made his shaft even harder. “Let me get acquainted with my pussy first, and then we can talk.”
As he planted kisses on her shaven vagina, Chaney cooed.
She felt her resolve give way as he leaned back on the bed before he demanded that she step out of her jeans.
She took it a step further when she took off her white shirt that bore the name of her shop, Curls, Twists and Things.
Those breasts he loved so much sat up as he admired her areolas that were a rich, walnut-brown against her lightly tanned skin.
“Come feed your nigga, Nae.” His eyes hung low, filled with lust, as he massaged her lower globes.
He lay on his back, and on cue, she crawled over his face, centering her pussy over his mouth. He quickly separated her slick lower lips apart with his fingers, allowing him to inhale her addictive scent.
“Hell yeah.” He could smell that shit every day, all day, and never grow tired of it. With the tip of his tongue, he gently flicked her clitoris.
“Fuck.” She grabbed the bedpost, her head tilted back as he took his time. He’d gone from just the tip to gently sucking on her mound, which caused her body to quake.
With each suck, she felt the hairs of his beard grazing her ass just before he eased a digit inside of her lower hole.