Misty (26 page)

When Brick drove into the parking lot of Toys “R” Us, his son began pounding on the window. “I want to go in there, Daddy.”

“That's where we're going. Calm down, man,” Brick replied with a chuckle.

With Little Baron sitting in the seat of the shopping cart, Brick strolled up and down the aisles of the toy store, slinging anything his son pointed to inside the cart. He and his son were attracting a lot of attention, with other kids gazing at Little Baron with envy and single mothers looking Brick up and down like he was a thick, juicy steak.

One very forward young woman with a cute face and rocking a fatty in her tight jeans, pretended to need Brick's advice on what to buy her seven-year-old nephew for his birthday.

“My boy is only a toddler; I don't know what older kids are playing with these days. Maybe you should ask one of the salespeople,” Brick replied.

She smiled and thanked him and when she walked away, he noticed she'd placed her name and number on top of a box of Duplo Legos that was inside his cart.

Having been considered ugly and despicable throughout his impoverished childhood and most of his adult life, he doubted he'd ever get used to female attention. Flattered, he put the piece of paper in his pocket. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get around to using it, but simply knowing he was desired was an ego boost.

When he dropped Little Baron off at home with a shit load of toys, Thomasina bitched about Brick wasting money on crap that the child would lose interest in within a matter of days. Brick didn't respond, but wondered to himself how Thomasina would respond to him spending money on a hotshot attorney. Would she consider that a wise investment? He chuckled to himself as he imagined her shock when he fought back on the matter of visitation rights.

After he left Thomasina's, he bought two packs of condoms and headed to the strip club. He was in the mood to make it rain on them hoes. Tonight was the night for him and Island Girl, and with a pocket full of money, whatever she charged for a private party, he was sure he could handle.

•  •  •

Brick spent a little over four hundred dollars on Island Girl at the club, paying for lap dances, buying her drinks, and making it rain every time she worked the pole during her set. “How much is it gonna cost me to get you in my bed tonight?” he'd asked a few minutes before the club closed. She'd quoted a price that was more than fair and now they were in his apartment, sweaty bodies entangled in the sheets on his bed.

Island Girl lay with her head resting on his chest as they both panted, trying to catch their breath after the intense workout. She was more flexible than he'd realized; in fact, she was double-jointed like a contortionist, bending her body in unbelievable positions as she offered Brick the pussy.

At one point, she sat up, wrapped her legs behind the back of her neck, and locked her ankles. Her pussy was on full display—a wide-open, pink hole, begging to be stuffed with some man meat.

Although the pussy was right in Brick's face and appeared easily accessible, trying to get inside it required him to do a great deal
of bending and squatting that he hadn't been prepared for. But unwilling to turn down any challenge that Island Girl put before him, he followed her lead, fucking her in every position she presented. That is, until he caught a painful Charlie Horse in the back of his thighs. After the pain subsided, Brick told her they had to fuck like regular folks who couldn't bend themselves up like pretzels.

On his knees and fucking her while she lay on her back, he linked his arms beneath her knees and pulled her closer, and then held her thighs apart. Reminding him that she didn't require assistance, she stretched her legs open until they were like the hands of a clock in the nine-fifteen position. With Island Girl serving up the pussy so generously, Brick was able to concentrate on beating it up.

By the time he exploded into the condom, his body, as well as the sheets, was drenched with sweat. Lying in recovery mode, Brick was surprised when Island Girl quickly got a second wind and began swiveling under the covers, moving downward.

She took the condom off and tied it in a knot at the top and flung it in a waste can. Semen dribbled out of the tip and Island Girl swished her tongue like a windshield wiper across the dome of his dick. She was licking up cum-drops and polishing his thick length like she was giving a luxury vehicle a deluxe wash. Her head game was so serious, Brick gripped the sheets and lifted his butt off the bed like a bitch when she expertly slurped in a mouthful of partially limp dick and a set of balls, working her jaws like a natural-born dick sucker.

“Damn, girl!” Brick groaned as he felt his nuts tightening and his dick jerking as it came back to life. Once he was fully erect, his balls spilled out of her mouth, and Island Girl quickly cupped his
scrotum, caressing it delicately as if his nut sac contained a pair of precious jewels.

Feeling his dick gliding down her throat, all of Brick's nerve endings were on high alert and he had an adrenaline rush that was out of this world. With all his senses focused on the sweet sensations inside Island Girl's mouth, he didn't hear the clicking footsteps in the hallway until they reached the threshold of the bedroom.

“What the fuck, Brick!” Misty cried.

Startled, Brick accidentally jammed his dick deeper into Island Girl's throat, causing her to choke and cough.

“Who is this bitch you got in my bed?” Misty shouted, moving swiftly toward Brick and the stripper, and then stopping to take off a stiletto, which she sent sailing toward the stripper's head.

Island Girl shielded her head with her arms. “Who is this crazy woman? What's going on, Brick?”

“You the one who's crazy,” Misty retorted. “How you gonna come into another woman's home and put your stank ass in her bed?”

“Whoa. Hold up, Misty,” Brick interrupted, jumping out of the bed and holding out his hand defensively as Misty bent to remove her other heel. “I'm about to smack your little ass clean across this room if you throw another shoe in my direction.”

Brick's gruff tone put Misty on pause as she recalled the rare occasions when he'd completely spazzed out on her. When Brick went off, he sort of zoned out, and no amount of reasoning could bring him back to reality.

“You moved out and there's nothing else between us now. We agreed to be friends,” he reminded her.

“I know, but why you gotta have a bitch in the bed where I slept?” Misty asked in a weak voice. “Damn, it hasn't even been a month and you already moved on.”

“That's right, and you need to do the same thing. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I came to get some of my stuff.”

“And it didn't occur to you to call and see if it was okay to pop up on me in the middle of the night?”

“No, I thought you'd be sleep. I didn't expect to catch you fucking a sleazy ho,” Misty said, her eyes wandering to Island Girl's hooker boots and skimpy clothes that were strewn about the bedroom.

“Who you calling a ho, you skinny little bitch?” Island Girl barked, her eyes filled with rage.

Misty waved the stripper off like she was swatting a fly. “You need to put some clothes on and take your slutty ass out of here.”

“You're out of order, Misty. You don't call the shots in my crib. Grab whatever you came here to pick up and then get the fuck out.”

“Fuck it, you can throw my shit in the trash for all I care. I can afford to replace all my clothes, and I can replace you. Good luck on finding another job that pays as well as I do,” Misty said spitefully and then flipped her hair as if she'd scored a point.

“Threats don't work with me anymore. If you don't want me to work for you, then so be it. I got a job; I don't need your money to survive. Now, give me my key back and have a good fuckin' life.” Brick held out his hand, waiting for Misty to return the key to the apartment.

She dug into her bag, extracted the key and flung it across the room. She retrieved the shoe that had landed next to the bed, put in on, and then stormed out of the bedroom.

The sound of the front door slamming reverberated around the apartment.

“She's hot with you,” Island Girl said with a nervous giggle.

“She'll get over it.” Brick went into the bathroom and washed
up. When he returned to the bedroom, he located his pants and shirt in a tangled heap on the floor between the nightstand and the bed.

“Why're you putting your clothes on? Don't you want to finish where we left off before your girl tried to kill the mood?”

“Nah, I'm good. Get dressed and I'll drive you home.”

“I'm comfortable right here,” she said, patting the empty spot next to her, attempting to entice Brick back into bed.

“Yo, it's time to go. There ain't no reason for you to hang around like I owe you money.”

“It's not even about the money. I like you, Brick. I'm trying to get to know you better. Get back in bed, baby,” she urged him gently. “You told that chick that you moved on. Weren't you talking about you and me?”

“I was telling her that
I've
moved on; I didn't mean I was starting a relationship with you.” A frown darkened Brick's face. The last thing he needed in his life was a clingy bitch. He thought spending money for pussy guaranteed him sex without emotional complications, but this ho wanted money and a relationship. “You got paid, now grab your stuff and let's go!”

The bass in Brick's voice and the evil look on his face prompted Island Girl to fling the sheets off, hop out of bed, and begin dressing hastily.

M
isty's ploy to slip into bed with Brick in the middle of the night while he was sleeping had failed miserably. It was shocking and infuriating to catch him smashing some cheap-looking, gutter bitch.

Sitting in the back of the cab on her way back to her hotel, she replayed the horrible scene in her mind and couldn't believe the turn of events.
Brick not only kicked me out of the apartment we shared together, but he also threatened to whip my ass. The nerve of that man!

Her phone hummed inside her purse. Determining it was either Audrey or David on the phone, she let the call go to voicemail. Both of her side pieces were like lovesick puppies and had been blowing up her phone during her trip to Hawaii and every day since she'd returned. Up until now, she'd been too busy to return their calls, but the way her coochie reacted—throbbing and pulsating—after Brick had threatened her with violence, she could use a late-night booty call to put out the fire that raged between her legs.

It was weird how she always got horny as hell whenever she pushed Brick to his limit and provoked him to get aggressive with her. Back in the good old days, he always showed remorse after losing his temper with her. To make up for his bad behavior, he would immediately lick the moisture from her hot pussy and then fuck her slow and sensually while begging for her forgiveness.

Whew! Merely thinking about the way they used to be was such a powerful turn-on, Misty had to pat her coochie to calm it down. Damn, she missed the old days with Brick. She used to have that nigga's head spinning with all the games she ran on him. Used to make him apologize and eat her pussy whenever she fucked around and did him wrong.

But the new Brick would curse her out, threaten her with bodily harm, and felt no remorse whatsoever for mistreating her. Despite his unbecoming conduct, she wanted him back so badly, she was racking her brain trying to figure out a way to make it happen. She was going to lose her mind if she didn't figure out how to worm her way back inside that muthafucka's mind, body, and soul.

Misty checked her phone to see whose call she had missed. Hopefully, Brick had gotten rid of the skank and had called to make up. She peered at the screen and groaned in disappointment when she saw Audrey's name. Audrey's ditsy-ass self was only good for a mild orgasm, often leaving Misty sexually frustrated and in need of a big, juicy dick.

David, on the other hand, could deliver big pussy eruptions that had her on the verge of blacking out. Her only complaint about David was that he wasn't freaky enough. Sure, he enjoyed it when she exposed her kinky side and left teeth marks all over his body, but she wasn't always in the mood to act like a damn canine.

She wished he was a more imaginative lover, but since he wasn't, it was her responsibility to teach him how to thoroughly please her.

She waited until she was back in her hotel room to call him. “David,” she whispered into the phone, using an urgent tone of voice.

“Whassup, Misty. Are you all right?”

“Not really.”

“What's wrong?”

“Something happened with my ex.”

“I'll kill him if he put his hands on you,” David hissed.

“No, it's not like that. I went to the apartment to get the rest of my things and somehow he seduced me into having sex with him. I feel so bad for being weak and cheating on you; can you forgive me? I promise it won't happen again.”