Married to the Game (4 page)

Read Married to the Game Online

Authors: Chunichi

BOOK: Married to the Game
4.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
CHAPTER 6
SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY
CEAZIA
 
 
Each night when I came home there were so many things that reminded me of Vegas. I should have sold the house just like I sold his car, clothes, and jewelry after his death, but I just couldn't give it up. I worked too hard and went through too much for that house to just let it go. I held Vegas down during his jail sentence, I did time for a crime I didn't even commit, and was harassed by his mistress while doing it. Hell, I deserved everything I had—and Vegas, Mickie, and Sonya deserved what they got too. Anyone else in my shoes would have done the same thing.
Imagine coming home after serving five hard months in jail for a crime you didn't commit and finding your man, in your house, in your Jacuzzi, having a threesome with one of your best friends and her lover. That was definitely a death sentence. I had to do it. Luckily, I moved slowly and carefully, and that's why I was on the streets now.
Although I didn't regret a thing I'd done, I must admit things hadn't been the same without Vegas. But I'd learned to cope with it. Every night I was at the strip club just to hold shit down. That little bit of money wasn't worth the aggravation. I'd done all I could to get back on top, but it just wasn't happening. I was fucking with this nigga from up top, another from the dirty south, and even that nigga, Bear, that Vegas used to cop his raw from; and all these niggas together, combined with me stripping, still couldn't compare to how Vegas was putting out. It seemed like I was going to have to go for what I knew, and keep it in the family. I'd checked out how that bitch, Danielle, was living, and it seemed like it was pretty well. So, if Snake could do for her, I knew he could do even more for a bitch like me.
As much as I hated to do it, Snake was about to be the next nigga to catch my heart. Hey, desperate times called for desperate measures. I made it my personal goal to get Vegas's brother, Snake. I had been reeling him in slowly. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted me too. It took all he had to fight the attraction. I'd ended each night with a voice message on his phone or a text on his Sidekick. Tonight, I would leave another text.
I walked over to the computer to check my e-mail before sending Snake a message. To my surprise, there was a return message from him. It read:
STOP PLAYING THE GAMES. MAKE YOURSELF KNOWN. THAT MASTURBATION SOUNDS GOOD, BUT I THINK YOU COULD USE MY HELP.
That was perfect. At least I had him involved in the game. He was curious to find out who I was. I replied:
THE GAME IS OVER. MEET ME AT YOUR REGULAR STRIP SPOT ON THURSDAY AT YOUR REGULAR TIME. I'LL HIT YOU UP WHEN I'M READY.
I was sure my plan was going to work. All I needed was one night with him, and he would be trapped. The power of the pussy is phenomenal.
Thursday came in no time. I headed to the club in a hurry. I wanted to be sure I beat Snake there. I purchased new costumes, got a beautiful golden tan, got my hair, nails, and eyebrows done and put on my M•A•C makeup to perfection. I must say I was gorgeous. I didn't give any dances the entire night. I wanted to be fresh for Snake. I had a new routine choreographed especially for him.
Around midnight, he walked in the velvet room. He took his usual seat. That was my cue. I signaled the DJ to play R Kelly's “Snake.” That was the perfect song considering my target. I slithered all over the stage, up and down the pole, with my eyes fixed on Snake the entire time. He didn't take his eyes off me either. He licked his lips while staring at me seductively. Just the look on his face was making my juices flow.
After the song ended, I went to the dressing room to freshen up and change costumes. Snake was still sitting in the same spot when I returned. I walked up to him, straddled his lap, and whispered in his ear. “This one is on the house.”
Then I gave him the lap dance of his life. I started with a slow wind on his lap. I ran my fingers through his hair as I moved my vagina in a circular motion on his penis. I loved men with hair. Luckily, Snake had his hair out instead of his usual cornrows. I did every position imaginable for a lap dance. I didn't stop until I felt his manhood grow. Once I felt the magic stick, I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him. I ended the dance, kissed him on the cheek, and returned to the dressing room.
“Mission accomplished,” I said as I flopped on the couch to catch my breath.
I took a shower and put on my regular clothes, then headed out of the club. I went to my car and called Snake's phone.
“Yo,” he answered.
“Meet me outside. Just go to your truck,” I instructed before hanging up.
I was sure by this time Snake knew I was his secret admirer. I listened to the radio as I waited. Five minutes passed and he still wasn't out. I looked toward his truck to be sure he wasn't already in there waiting. I noticed a strange person dressed in black looking through his truck. I wasn't sure if it was a detective or someone plotting to rob him, but I wasn't getting involved. I leaned back in my seat so that I would not be labeled as a witness. A few moments later, I heard Snake talking to one of the bouncers as he headed to his truck. Once he got in, I walked over. He looked at me and hesitantly unlocked the door.
“So, you're Sexy Sixty-nine?” he asked as I climbed in the truck.
“Yep. You disappointed?” I said sarcastically.
“Do I look disappointed?” he answered with a question.
Honestly, I could not read him at all. I wasn't sure what he was thinking.
“Guess not.”
“Good. So, where we headed?” Snake put the truck in reverse.
I wanted to go back to my place, but I was afraid it may be too much for Snake to handle. I totally remodeled the bedroom, so it didn't even resemble the old one. The crime scene was too much for me to handle as well. The old bedroom was a constant reminder of the murders. I decided to take my chances with the house.
“You can go to my crib,” I said cautiously.
He looked uncertain, but agreed. A few minutes later we were at my house. I punched in the code and we entered the gate. I jumped out of the truck and headed to the door. When I unlocked it, I noticed Snake still sitting in the truck.
“Come on in,” I yelled.
He just sat there, shaking his head.
“I can't do it, ma,” he responded.
I guess my house wasn't the best choice after all. But I wasn't giving up. I didn't live far from the beach, and there were plenty of hotel options on the oceanfront. I headed back to the truck.
“It's cool. I understand. Let's get a room at the beach.”
We pulled out of the gate and headed back out. That was close. I thought that may have ruined the night, so I had to get back to horny. I began to rub his inner thigh, working my way toward his penis. He still seemed to be distracted and unmoved. I was sure Vegas was on his mind, and if I didn't think fast, the night would come to an abrupt end. I had no choice. I had to suck his dick.
I popped in a cough drop and unzipped his pants. I gently pulled out his penis and massaged it with my tongue, making sure I got it nice and moist. I didn't want to take the chance of starting a fire, jerking a dry dick. Giving head wasn't my specialty, but I could get the job done. My goal was not to make him cum, but to get him back in the mood.
Snake moaned with pleasure as he rubbed his hand through my hair. Eventually, my rhythm was guided by the pressure of his hand forcing my head up and down.
It didn't take long for us to arrive at the hotel. I was relieved when we arrived because my jaws were getting rather tired. We stopped at the front desk, and minutes later we had a room. We quickly headed to our suite. The entire way, Snake's phone and Sidekick were constantly going off. Each time he would press end, sending the caller to voice mail. That was the best option Nextel could have ever come up with.
I was eager to get a taste of that loving Mickie had often bragged about. I hurried to get the mood right. I turned on the radio, turned off the lights and cracked the balcony door so we could hear the waves crashing against the shore. The room came with chilled champagne, so I popped open the bottle and poured us both a glass. Drunken sex was always the best sex, so a little alcohol wouldn't hurt. After we finished the last glass of champagne, Snake pulled out a blunt.
“I have to hit this before I do anything. It takes the drunken edge off. You wanna hit?” he offered.
“Hell nah!” I instantly refused.
Drugs were no longer part of my diet. A couple of years ago I would have had my own personal stash, but not any more. I'd seen the effects of drugs; they cost Vegas his life. I took my last smoke that day, and I've been drug free ever since.
As soon as Snake finished smoking he began to undress. I started to unbutton my shirt and he grabbed my arms and pinned them to the bed. He got on top of me and began to suck and bite my neck. He snatched my shirt open, popping the buttons off.
“You want this dick?” he asked.
“Yes, give it to me,” I begged.
He continued to pull my clothes off, tearing my panties and bra. Then he stopped moving completely.
“You don't want it,” he said.
I figured he wanted me beg, so I played along.
“Please give it to me, Snake. Fuck this pussy.”
That must have given him the drive he needed because he lifted me off the bed, rolled on his back, and straddled me across his lap.
“Well, show me then,” he said as he sat me on his big black handle, which resembled a king-sized Snickers.
Boy, did he and Vegas have a lot in common. We had sex in every position one could think of. By the time we finished, my body was sore and bruised. The sex we had was nothing like the passionate lovemaking experiences Mickie would speak about. Our sex was quite opposite. It was rough, hard, and sweaty. Snake didn't caress me, kiss me, or take it slow. In fact, there were times when he would choke me, pull my hair, and even smack me.
I asked him about the difference as I lay on the bed, still naked. “Wow! That was a different performance from the stories I've been told.”
He looked at me blankly as he got dressed.
“Oh, well. New bitch, new tricks, I guess.” He continued to get dressed without even looking at me. He pulled out his Sidekick and began to type. I looked over his shoulders and read:
GOT 'EM-OR RATHER SHE GOT ME.
The message was simple. I wasn't sure of the meaning, but I didn't bother to inquire.
“I got to run. How much is a cab going to cost you to get back to the club?” he asked as he laced his brand new wheat-colored Tims.
I couldn't believe this nigga had the audacity to even think I was getting my sexy ass in a cab. I thought maybe I'd misunderstood him, so I asked for clarification.
“Excuse me? Did you ask about a cab?”
“Yeah. How much you need? I don't have time to take you back to the club. I gotta run.”
I laughed to keep from snapping off on him. “Honey, I don't do cabs.”
“Okay, I'll have my li'l soldier come scoop you,” he said as he opened his cell phone.
“Duke, I need you to come to my spot at the oceanfront, room one-twelve, and pick up this chick for me. She'll be going back to the strip joint ... One.” He closed the phone and headed for the door.
“Can I pencil you in for next week? Same time, same place?” I asked.
“Yeah, hit me up,” he said as he closed the door behind him.
I jumped in the shower to clean myself up. As I dried off, I examined myself in the mirror. Snake had been really rough during sex. I had a bruise on my hip, neck and butt cheeks. I heard a bang on the door. I answered in my towel to entice Snake's li'l soldier a little. “Hi, Little Soldier,” I said as I admired his jewelry.
He wore a rose-gold soldier charm flooded with diamonds. He reminded me so much of Vegas it was ridiculous.
“Little?” he said as he looked at me seductively.
“I'm sorry. Did I offend you?” I asked as I propped my leg on the bed beside him and began to lotion it.
“Do I look like a little boy to you? Tell me one thing on me that reminds you of a little boy.”
I looked at him and examined every part of his body. He was about five foot eleven inches, so he didn't have the height of a little boy. He didn't have a little boy cut, so that was out. His clothes were the shit, and his jewelry definitely wasn't little boy-like. There was nothing I could readily say, so I took a shot at his manhood.
“Well, from what I can see, there is nothing little boy about you. But there is a lot that I can't see,” I said as I looked toward his penis.
“Well, we can solve that now,” Duke said as he stood up.

Other books

The Fiery Heart by Richelle Mead
In the Balance by Harry Turtledove
The Dead Boyfriend by R. L. Stine
A Christmas Odyssey by Anne Perry
The Spirit of Revenge by Bryan Gifford