4. Deja McCoy #5
“I move the way that I move with females because I never really found someone that’s ever made me want to change.
I feel like if I were to fuck with you, you would make me want to change.
If we were to ever fully get to a place where we lock in, you would have to stop dancing though.
I fuck with your hustle. That shit is sexy.
You gotta be one bad ass bitch to be able to get all them niggas to trick off on all that money for you, just by showing your face, body, and doing tricks on the pole.
My money long, so you wouldn’t have to dance.
That’s the only reason why I would want you to stop.
Not because it’s something that’ll make me insecure.
Nah. Never that. It wouldn’t serve you a purpose to dance if I got the money” he admitted.
I rolled my eyes at that too. I hated every time I talked to a nigga and the first thing they said was that if we got into a relationship, that I would have to stop dancing.
Granted, I’m sure that it was the appropriate thing for me to do if I ever got into a serious relationship, but I wanted a man to allow me to make that call.
I didn’t need a nigga telling me from the jump what he wanted me to do.
That’s where he was going to have me fucked up at.
“And right there is where you’re going to have me fucked up. No nigga is going to tell me that I gotta stop dancing. Ima stop dancing whenever I feel like it,” I voiced, needing him to understand me when I said that to him. Like it was a joke, he laughed right in my face.
“You saw the way I kissed you earlier. You had to stop a couple of times and moan. I didn’t even have to touch it, but I know I had that pussy leaking.
If just a kiss had the power to make you lose a few screws, imagine what this dick will do.
If I’m dropping dick in you, and I tell you to stop dancing, I bet I make you stop fuckin dancing,” he went on to tell me.
I didn’t say anything else after that. Not because I was turned on.
Not because he shut me up. I just didn’t want to get into the whole debate.
I meet so many men that swear they were going to get me off the pole, and have me put up in a house, while they took care of me.
I didn’t want that. That wasn’t a goal for me.
“I have been at it nonstop since I graduated high school. Dancing, and making money is all I knew. I wouldn’t know what the fuck to do with a soft life.
Plus, nothing about you niggas give that you can offer a bitch a soft life.
Ya’ll play a part in why I have to be so hard in the first place,” I finished.
I knew I wasn’t supposed to engage anymore, but I just needed to get this last part out.
“I can sit here and listen to you talk that shit all day. For the fuck of it, Ima start saying things to you to get you all riled up. I love that shit, baby,” he went on.
I waved him off and continued to smoke the hookah. Kilo continued to sit there, and we vibed together. As we were sitting, I happened to look over, and Lyric was still sitting with Kilo’s boy.
“Your homeboy that my girl is over there talking to. What’s his story?” I wanted to know.
Kilo smiled when I asked that. He smiled and then looked over in the direction where they were.
Lyric had to really been enjoying the conversation with him because it wasn’t like her to be in the middle of the club, conversing with men.
Lyric was my wild friend. She would get money out of niggas, and get the fuck on, so to see that the conversation was still going strong, that had to be a good thing.
“His name Luke. He’s a cool dude. That’s like my brother. I been knowing him since we were lil niggas. If she looking for a husband though, tell your girl to run. He a dog,” he told me.
“Oh, so like you?” I asked, and he smiled.
“I won’t be a dog with you. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Put me on a leash and I won’t stray,” he said.
I tuned his ass out. My phone was resting on the table in front of me. The screen lit up, indicating that I had a text message. I grabbed my phone, seeing that it was a text notification from Hitta.
Hitta
Get the fuck out that nigga face! I can hop on a flight right now, and it’ll only take an hour and a half to get over to that side. Tell that nigga to move around, or I’ll move him around. Simple. Bae, you know me. I’ll get nutty in a second.
When I finished reading the message, I paused.
I paused, looking around the club. There were so many people here, and who knows who might have recorded Kilo and I talking.
People were so messy that they probably sent it to the blogs or something, and that’s how Hitta got a hold of it.
Then again, Miami and Atlanta were like cousins to each other, so people in this city knew Hitta too.
Maybe one of his homeboys were in the club and sent it.
Maybe even one of his hoes sent it, thinking that they were going to get some kind of brownie points out of him. Shit, I don’t know.
It’s almost like Kilo could sense that a message was just sent to my phone that kind of bothered me. This nigga was bold as hell, taking my phone out of my hand, and he looked at the message. Once he finished, he tossed the phone in my lap.
“Tell that nigga to come. Me, and every nigga in this section got a stick on us. He might walk in, but I bet you he won’t walk out,” Kilo threatened.
Right there, when he made that threat, I found my common sense and knew from there that I wasn’t going to fuck with this nigga.
Granted, I didn’t plan on fuckin with him anyways, but that statement really sealed the deal.
It was going to stir up too much mess. Mess that I wasn’t trying to get in the middle of.