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Authors: Ashley Antoinette

Murder Mamas (5 page)

BOOK: Murder Mamas
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“By himself? You're getting out?” she asked in shock.
He nodded his head and sat down across from her. “Entering school in the fall.”
“School? Really?” she commented. She would have never suspected a hood nigga like Macy to have any ambition outside of the streets. “Interesting.”
“You sound surprised,” he replied.
“No, I just think that's good. Not a lot of brothers from Long Beach would be willing to give up all of this to put their head in a textbook,” she said.
“You sound like your man. You think I'm stupid,” Macy said.
“I think that it's attractive,” Fatima replied honestly.
“The type of power I want transcends Long Beach. I know what it feels like to run a block. Now I want to know what it feels like to run boardrooms. I've conquered the streets. Now I'm trying to take on the world.”
Fatima was impressed by Macy's intelligence, and she realized that there were many layers to the young hustler before her. Case had a one-track mind, but Macy was multi-faceted and he was showing her a side to him that made her look at him in a new light.
The phone finally rang, and Macy went to answer it. Knowing that very few people had the number, he expected it to be Case.
“Fuck took you so long to call me, fam? Your girl is over here worried sick about you,” Macy stated.
“I thought you were gonna drop her home for me,” Case stated.
“Wasn't no shaking loose from your broad, fam. You know how Tima is. Until she heard that you were safe, she wasn't budging out of my car,” Macy replied.
Case chuckled slightly at his girlfriend's stubborn nature then replied, “Tell her everything's good. It's a thousand mu'fuckas over here with a thousand different stories. Don't worry about it though. You know we ain't taking no L's. We got eyes everywhere. Anybody spend a little bit of dough the next few weeks and we'll know who is behind it. Niggas is signing their own death certificates for sneaker money,” Case said angrily.
“Don't make no moves tonight. Play it smart, Case,” he replied.
“No doubt, baby. I'll fill you in more tomorrow,” Case answered. “Tell Tima she can take her ass home now. As a matter of fact, take her to my crib and tell her I'll be home in the morning.”
Macy hung up the phone and turned to an eager Fatima. “What did he say?” she asked.
“Everything's good. He's good. I'ma drop you at his place. He'll be there in the morning,” Macy responded.
“The morning?” she shot back. “I don't want to be at his house in the middle of the hood by myself until morning! Can I stay here for a few hours? I hate being there without him. Somebody might try and steal me or something.”
Macy couldn't help but laugh at her arrogance. “Girl, don't nobody want you,” he stated as he poured a drink of his own. He brought the entire bottle over to his sitting area and then refilled Fatima's glass.
“Everybody want this in one way or another,” she said as she sipped the alcohol and smiled sexily. “Bitches want to be me, and niggas want to be with me.”
Macy couldn't argue with her because they both knew that what she was saying was true. She was queen bee around their way. From her beautiful exterior to her confident interior, she was envied by most.
“You're a pretty girl,” Macy complimented, causing Fatima to smile. “But your arrogance is a turn-off.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, her smile fading into an embarrassing frown.
“You're not humble. Humility is sexy. All that grandstanding you do is too flashy. Everybody already knows your name. You don't have to be so loud in order for people to see you and respect your position,” Macy schooled.
Slightly embarrassed that Macy had called her out, she quickly looked away from him. No man had ever made her feel so insecure. She sat in front of him searching for something to say. Usually she prided herself on being confident, but Macy was the first person in her life to make her see how shallow she could be.
“I didn't know I came across like that,” she whispered. “So tell me, Macy Sigel. What type of girl do you like? Since you claim I'm overconfident, you probably like them insecure and dependent on you, huh?” she asked. “When's the last time you even had a for-real girlfriend anyway? I've never seen you be serious about any girl. All of these chicks that be chasing after you and you haven't chosen one yet? What's the deal with that?” she asked nosily.
Macy sat back on his couch, throwing one hand on the back as he kicked his leg out in front of him. He sipped his drink. “You ask a lot of questions,” Macy said playfully. “Come on, let me drop you off before it gets too late.”
“You dodge a lot of questions,” Fatima replied with a smile. “You can get on me, but when it's my turn, you're ready to wrap up the conversation and send me packing.”
He chuckled softly. “It ain't like that, ma.”
“Hmm, hmm,” she said doubtfully. Suddenly she stood to her feet and walked past him as she headed toward the mini-bar.
“What you doing?” he asked.
“I'm looking foooorrr ...” She searched the bar until she located the bottle of tequila. “This!” she finished as she turned toward him while holding up the bottle and two shot glasses with a devilish grin.
“What you gon' do with that? You don't know nothing about that,” he answered.
“I tell you what, Macy. Let's play a game. I make a statement about you, and if it's true, you take a shot of tequila. If it's false, I take a shot,” she proposed.
“I'm not into games,” Macy shot back as he shook his head and enjoyed the mature cognac he was drinking. “Besides, I don't mix my alcohol. I'm already off this,” he said, holding up his glass.
Completely ignoring him, Fatima carried the bottle back to the couch and sat directly next to him. She set up two shots and then sat back, tucking one foot beneath her bottom as she faced her body toward him.
“You like ghetto girls. That's why you brought little miss hot-ass mess to the club with you tonight,” Fatima said. She held up one shot, and he nodded his head.
“You might as well kill that because that's false, baby girl,” he answered.
She closed her eyes and poured the liquid down her throat. She cringed as she felt it warm her as it traveled down her throat. “Ooh,” she whispered before bursting into laughter. “You want to ask a question, or you want me to keep going?” she asked.
He smiled at her, finding the game quite amusing. “Go ahead.”
“Okay,” she said, tapping her temple as if she were in deep thought. “You're not as cold-hearted as the streets think you are.”
Macy had an intimidating reputation in the streets and because of his high body count at the young age of twenty, many people feared him. Fatima wasn't buying it though. She could tell from the look in his eyes that there was more to him; he just didn't share it with everyone. “In fact, I'ma go as far as to say that you don't love the game at all. It's just a means to an end for you.”
Her line of questioning was much deeper than he had anticipated, and he looked her in the eyes for a long time before he finally reached for the shot glass and emptied it in his mouth. She had struck a nerve with him.
“Okay, my turn,” he said. He poured two new shots and then continued. “If Case was a broke nigga, you wouldn't be with him.”
His question caught her completely off guard, and her chin dropped to her chest. “So you think I'm a gold digger?” she asked, her feelings hurt. “After all these years I've known you ...”
“I'm curious,” he said. “You tell me what the answer is.”
Fatima picked up the shot and then leaned over and squeezed the sides of Macy's face with one hand, opening his mouth. She slowly poured it inside, laughing as she watched some of it drip down the sides of his mouth. “Sorry to tell you, Macy, but you're wrong about me.”
“I was wrong about that one statement. I have a hundred more,” he replied.
The two went back and forth asking question after question, getting lit as they each consumed their fair share of alcohol. They were surprised at the revelations they uncovered about each other by playing such a trivial game, and they learned a lot about one another, sharing things with each other that they had never told anyone else.
Before they knew it, it was four o'clock in the morning and they were both toasted and laughing hysterically.
“I never knew you were so cool,” Fatima admitted. “You're so serious most of the time. I like this part of you.”
“I like this part of you, ma, the down-to-earth Tima. You're like my nigga right now,” he answered.
She arched an eyebrow and said, “Oh, your nigga, huh?” She lifted the bottle of tequila that was mostly empty and then poured the last shot. “Okay, we have enough for one more round. Do you want to answer the question, or do you want me to?”
“Go ahead,” he answered as his head fell back onto the couch, his body completely loose.
“I'll bet,” she started as she closed the gap between them and climbed into his lap, “you have a big”—she planted a kiss on his neck—“long”—she wrapped her arms around his neck—“juicy dick,” she finished as her lips found his and her tongue eased into his mouth. His dick instantly bricked and confirmed her statement.
“What are you doing, Tima?” he asked as he tried to pry her hands from around his neck. “You know this ain't right.”
She reached down and put her hand inside his sweatpants and massaged his hard penis. “Ooh, but I wasn't lying, was I, Macy?” she asked. She retrieved the shot and fed him the tequila, moaning as she pressed her pussy against the bulge in his pants and began to hump him slowly.
“Oh shit, ma,” he whispered. Her thick body felt so good pressed against his, but he knew that they were both intoxicated. This lusty encounter was nothing but the result of two attractive people having too much to drink.
“Stop, stop, ma,” he whispered aloud, while silently cursing knowing that he wanted nothing more than to get things popping with his best friend's girl.
“Play the game, Macy. It's just a game. It's your turn,” Fatima whispered as her tongue ran up and down his neck. She could feel Macy's dick growing and pulsating from her seduction. She was wet, and her pussy dripped in anticipation.
“Game's over, ma. We all out of liquor,” Macy replied weakly, his tone husky and his eyes low from the effect of the liquor. He felt himself getting ready to cross the line. His dick was too hard and his head was too cloudy to talk himself off the edge.
Fatima stopped kissing him, stood to her feet, and then unzipped the side of her dress, stepping out of it. She stood in front of him wearing only her black panties and bra. “Then I guess we have to play for something else,” she responded.
Macy sat back and watched as she unclasped her bra, freeing her D-cup breasts. Her brown nipples were large and erect, making his mouth water. Her breasts sat up so nicely that they bounced beautifully as she shimmied out of her tiny panties. He tried to think with his brain, but all of the blood in his body was rushing elsewhere. He had been with a lot of women, but Fatima by far was the most stunning chick he had ever seen. Her body was beautiful; even the minor stretch marks on the sides of her wide hips were flawless.
“It's your turn, Macy,” she said.
He cleared his throat and stood, walking up on her and pinning her to the wall as he kissed her, their tongues performing a slow dance.
“You like to get this pussy licked. Your man don't do that right,” he whispered as he picked her up and placed his hands beneath her backside while trapping her body between himself and the wall.
“Oooh, Macy,” she moaned as they kissed feverishly.
He lowered his body until his knees were on the floor and her legs were wide open as she sat on his face. He licked her swollen clit, causing her body to tremble. She moved her hips in small circles, riding his face slowly.
“Oh my,” she whispered. She couldn't even get the praises out of her mouth; it felt so good and she melted into him like butter as he raped her with his tongue.
They both knew that what they were doing was wrong, but they were too far gone to turn back, and the rapture that they were caught up in was too magnificent to deny. They would rather deal with the consequences than stop the bliss that they were experiencing at the moment.
He stopped right before she climaxed, and her breasts heaved as she begged him for more. “No, don't stop, Macy. Please,” she whispered.
“I'm not stopping,” he said as he scooped her up and carried her down the long hall that led to his master bedroom. He threw her onto the plush mattress and he stepped out of his pants, finally freeing his thickness and making her squirt.
BOOK: Murder Mamas
13.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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