Page 28 of Trading Places

I wrap my left hand around her neck and bury myself deep inside her from behind.

Her pussy is so warm and right where a nigga needs to be. I hit her ass with one quick thrust all at once. I pump into that coochie with a merciless rhythm. “You got a nigga losing his damn mind over you,” I say, against her ear.

“Mmhmm…” she lets out a breathy moan.

My other hand wraps around her thick waist, and I squeeze around her throat. “You deserved to be fucked like the slut you are.”

“Yess…” she whimpers, throwing her fat ass back on my dick. Just like the way she should.

“This pussy so good; that’s why you’ve been keeping it from me. Huh? You scared I’m gonna get you pregnant and really make you my second baby mama.” I smack her ass and drill into her faster.

“Yess…”

“Well, your ass about to be stuck with me because I ain’t pulling out. Let your nigga clean this cum out of you.” My hips buck, and I move faster into her.

I jackhammer into her pussy and roll my hips, hitting that sweet spot.

She cries out so loud. I know people can hear us, but I don’t give a fuck no more.

She can play games, and I’ma play them, too.

Her body trembles and her walls spasm and contract around me. She keeps clenching me.

My hips stutter, and I hit her with one last powerful thrust. I spill my nut right inside of her. I squeeze her throat tighter.

She lets out a strangled noise, and her body quivers until she comes on my dick.

“You’re a good fucking, slut. I’m still not pulling out.” I kiss her neck and suck on it. I move slower into her and push deeper. I need her to be leaking me all night.

I let go of her throat, and she comes again on my dick. Her body quakes for me, and she lets go again.

Chapter 13

Zari

I open the bakery door, and my mother jumps up from the table. Her steps are heavy.

I sigh, already knowing she’s about to let me have it.

She grabs my hand and walks me back outside. “Zari, where have you been miss lady? We’ve been waiting for you.”

Cars drive past and my eyes wander to them. I wish I could drive off and skip this whole thing. I sigh deeply, not really in the mood for a discussion.

“I overslept,” I say, avoiding her gaze.

How can I tell her I was exactly where I would rather be right now? In bed curled up with my nigga.

She walks in front of me with her arms crossed. Her red dress is shorter than mine. Her Gucci dress hugs her small waist. You can’t even tell she had Lil Trell ten years ago. She honestly looks like she hasn’t had any kids.

“Stop playing. That boy in there,” she says, pointing towards the bakery. “Wants to provide for you. You got it easy, girl. He ain’t in the street, and you don’t have to worry about shit. Put a damn smile on your face.”

I roll my eyes and suck my teeth. Everyone has made this fucking engagement about themselves.

I open my mouth to say something, but the shit doesn’t matter.

I walk past my mom and open the door. I waltz in there and lift my head. I swallow whatever thoughts or feelings I got for Drey.

Anthony stands up and pulls me into a hug. Any other time, I enjoyed being in his arms, but this afternoon feels different.