Around the Way Girls 9 (6 page)

“Hurry up, trick. I ain't got all day for you and this whiny-ass brat.”

“We're going, nigga, damn!” Snatching Shannon and the few Barbie dolls I let her bring so I could use them to demonstrate how ol' boy would touch her private parts, I was booking out of the door so I could get to chasing my high. He'd given me a hundred for the fuck plus an extra bill to rub on Shannon's baby twat. At first I called him a sick-minded fuck, cursing the day he was born, but after drinking a fifth of bumpy-face vodka, smoking a dime bag of loud Kush, and having him treat me to a line of coke, I might as well put his fingers into her panties myself.

“Mommy, he hurt me,” Shannon cried out as we ran out the door down the flight of stairs.

“I know, just hush up. Plenty of men are gonna hurt you, girl. It's all part of being a woman. You want to be like Mommy right?” Bending down in my too-small micro miniskirt, I tried bonding with my little one.

“I guess. NaNa says you ain't shit though.” Some might've assumed this was crazy but I let Shannon curse. It didn't make no difference to me if she learned to speak the proper King's English like her father's side 'cause growing up with me, she was doomed from the start.

“Fuck your NaNa, Shannon. She don't know nothing about me. Her ass is just a worker for the devil.” I grabbed her face, making sure every word I said was clearly understood. I'd hated Sally with every pulse in my body since seeing her limp into my hospital room. The eight-hour visitations Sally and James spent with Shannon were full of bashing sessions about me. “If you don't remember nothing else in this cold world, Shannon, remember this: your value to a man don't go further than it takes for him to nut. It might've seemed like a lifetime last night, baby girl, but trust me, it'll get easier as you get older, trust me. Now keep up; Mommy's got some stops to make!”

Since I was scamming the system, getting childcare checks for a babysitter I'd never even met, wherever I went Shannon had to tag along too. Wasn't no need letting someone else collect almost $800 a month to ignore her; I was doing just fine with that part on my own. Walking through the cold streets, I pulled my hoodie closer together, wishing the zipper at least worked. It was a cold day for the end of September but I wasn't about to waste not a single dime on bus or cab fare. I had a habit to feed so every dollar was on reserve for just that. I only lived a few miles up Linwood from where we were so as long as Shannon didn't whine about her little legs being tired I was straight. I was a veteran of walking this strip; day in and out it was no thang!

“Mommy, can Daddy pick us up?” Shannon called from ten paces behind me.

“Have you ever seen his punk ass pick me up? Hell, he barely lets you in that fancy car of his.” I rolled my eyes hollering at her over my shoulder.

“Well can we sit down then?” Her existence was starting to irritate the hell out of me. Why couldn't Jimmy's ass come get her more? Had I known I'd be stuck on twenty-four-seven, I would've taken a triple payout on top of the abortion money. It was too fucking late now.

“If you sit your ass down, you'll be getting left. Now I don't want to hear another word out of your good-for-nothing ass for the rest of the day! Keep up!”

“But, Mommy, my flip-flop broke and I'm hungry.”

Turning around, running back to her, I slapped the right side of her face with fury. “Didn't you just hear me tell you to shut the fuck up? Don't let me tell you again.”

Sniffling, trying not to cry, Shannon already knew I wasn't soft to tears. Matter of fact I wasn't a nurturing-type parent at all. Shannon could learn the hard way if she chose to. Whatever I said was the golden rule so the only way to survive in my household was to abide by all of them. Picking the dollar store flip-flop off of the cement, seeing it ripped in half, I shook my head, annoyed in the worst way. “Oh well, guess you gonna have to watch your step. I keep tellin' ya little young ass to take care of your things. I'm not about to keep spending the little pennies I get from your daddy on shoes and shit!” Shoving the flip-flop in her hand, I turned to start back on my stroll. “Bring ya ass!”

 

 

“I'll be going to get that filthy child of yours this weekend, Jimmy,” my mother reminded me. She'd been playing the middleman picking Shannon up from Shawntay for years so I wouldn't have to be bothered. I couldn't wait for that child to turn eighteen, getting out of my pocket for good. My son was all I needed in this life to be secure. “I know I said you shouldn't have anything to do with her, but seeing how poorly kempt that whore has been keeping her even saddens my cold heart.”

I'd never heard my mother speak gently of Shannon. She was always too dark, too chunky, or her teeth were spaced apart too far. It had been a rough five years of me being able to balance my marriage with Beth while keeping Shannon at bay with one eight-hour visitation a week. It might've sounded pathetic but that's all she was worth.

“Is it that bad? Shawntay gets the one hundred dollars a week faithfully.”

“My assumption is that she spends it on alcohol and drugs, 'cause that child reeks of both when she comes over here. She leaves a ring around my bath! And in my old age, I'm getting tired of driving all the way across town into the ghetto. You're just like how your father was: a trash prowler. I hope you teach that junior of yours something different.” No matter what day of the week or when the conversation took place, Sally always found a way to tear my father's legacy down. I never once got a thank-you for taking over as her financial provider once she went bone dry. “Whatever the case, bring her some clothes for over here. Those holey, smelly, roach-infested rags her momma sends her with in a grocery store shopping bag gets left at the curb before even pulling off. You lucky you ain't brought no disease home to that poor Beth.”

 

Driving in circles around the parking structure looking for a spot closest to the door, I kept ringing Jay's cell, hoping he'd pick up.

“Butter baby, I'm in the middle of betting. Are you here?”

“Pulling into valet as we speak; can you meet me down here?” Tired of searching for the impossible, I swerved in front of a few other cars that were indecisively trying to figure out where to go and made sure anything of value was locked in my glove compartment so the valet attendant wouldn't get any bright ideas.

“I'll have an employee of the casino escort you up here.” He hung up, not giving me a chance to contest.

You can never tell what time it is inside of a casino. Cigarette smoke, loud chatter, and the ringing of machines were sounding through the air as people tried their chances with Lady Luck. Walking through with a black jacket security guard, I peeped Jay across the room at a craps table with a hard, concentrating face.

“Right this way, ma'am.” The guard lifted the rope for me to walk through.

“Thank you.” I smiled at the guard, walking through as Jay took my hand. “All this for a little stripper,” I joked, as he grabbed my waist, pulling me in for a hug.

“You're worth more and you'll get more. I'm glad that you could make it,” he whispered, kissing my ear as each word slipped from his mouth. “Waitress, take the lady's drink order.” Pulling back from me he diverted his attention back to the dice game. As my eyes traveled to the stacked winnings near him, I could see why he'd sent someone to get me in the first place, plus the reason he had so much clout. Jay was taking this casino for a ride. “Sorry for the holdup but now that I have Lady Luck on my side, we can continue.”

The attendant opened the table back up for betting.

“A Patrón margarita please.” It wasn't odd to be hanging with a John Doe from the club; this was how many dancers made their extra money on the side. But this white boy was balling on a level I'd never seen before. Pulling out bills left and right at the roped-off, reserved craps table, it was obvious he had longer cash than what I thought.

“Yeah, I'll take those too.” He graciously accepted the double stacks of one-hundred dollar valued chips from the dealer as she nodded my way smiling. He'd been blazing this table up each time he threw the dice, stacking his winnings even higher. And I hadn't left his side since getting here. I was glued to Jay's side, refusing to let my potential money get away. My guardian angel had gotten away; my money man sure wasn't about to.

“So have you been milking these tables since you left the titty bar?” I asked, sipping seductively from my drink. “I must didn't do my job good enough in the private room.”

“Indeed I have, but don't let that discredit your moves, Butter. I enjoyed you most certainly; that's why you're here. A man must have many hobbies though; gambling happens to be one of mine.”

“What other hobbies do you have? Tell me what really interests you.” Leaning over, whispering into his ear, I made sure to push my breasts into him so he could feel my hardened nipples. The thought of his money had me really turned on.

“Um, you're a bad girl, Butter.” He grabbed my lower back, pulling me in closer. “And I like 'em bad.” Kissing my neck gently, I felt my coochie starting to tingle. His Gucci Guilty cologne smelled like heaven and our attraction seemed inevitable.

“Show me you're more than just talk.”

“In due time, pretty girl. Something's telling me I'm going to need more winnings to afford you.” Leaning over, gently kissing my forehead, Jay was really turning into a charmer. He'd said the magical words to let me know I definitely wouldn't be walking away close to empty-handed. “Waitress, bring the lady another round!” Snapping his fingers, waving for the half-naked girl, everyone around here was scurrying like ants taking his orders. “Gotta have my Lady Luck feeling lovely.” He winked, turning toward the game table.

He had it all wrong. Wasn't nothing about me lucky. My so-called family made sure I understood that from the day I was born.

“Bets are open,” the table attendant spoke up, interrupting our intense conversation.

The few guys who mingled with Jay at the bar were now joining him at the craps table placing high bets. All were accompanied by women dressed as provocatively as me. I was the baddest mix breed in the crowd killing these hoes softly. Recognizing a new girl from Bare Faxxx eyeing me with hate, I figured she probably rolled with Isis or that other skinny bitch who tried to bum-rush me. It didn't matter though; I wasn't the least bit concerned. Not only was she looking hella laced, the casino's security would hammer her to the wall for coming at me sideways. As she moved her eyes from me, giving the John Doe her undivided attention, I made a mental note to keep an eye on her just in case. Enough slipups had occurred tonight.

Watching Jay get back into the game, each time he bet big, he won even bigger. Each hand he played was worth a hundred and each time the waitress brought shots of Patrón, his bet doubled. He was on fire and had people stopping left and right to scope his game.

“Bets are now closed.” The dealer waved her hand across the table, signaling the gamblers to stop.

Jay blew on the dice, rolling them around in his hands, before putting them in front of my lips for me to kiss. I played the role hoping my bad luck wouldn't rub off on him. Once the dice were in perfect position to pay out, he gripped them tightly then tossed them across the table. Popping off the backside of the table then landing on his expected nine, he rubbed my hands together hungrily. “That bet was for you!”

I was gonna be wearing Jay before the night was over. We shared eye fucks, quick pecks, and naughty comments between each other that had me actually feeling him. I wasn't hiding my hand. I was flat-out flirting.

 

 

Each hand I played was worth a stack. I had money to blow plus there was more in the room if I bet too big for my pockets. But it was going to be a cold day in hell for that to happen. “Yeah, pass those winnings over, sweet lady. I'll be needing all of that money for my after party.” I winked, smiling widely at Butter. By now, I'd hung my blazer over a chair and loosened up the few top buttons of my shirt. Staring at her before making my next few bets, I couldn't help but be intrigued by her features. She seemed familiar to me but I'd have remembered coming across someone so gorgeous before. I could tell she was mixed but I didn't know exactly with what. The only thing important was that she had black in her and that had been confirmed by the smartness of her tongue and that fat, chunky ass I couldn't wait to stuff. It's like I could smell black pussy from a mile away. And Butter's had the sweetest smell I'd ever had my nose so close to. I couldn't wait to get her up to the room to have my way with her. “I've got a few more rounds to clean up on, need another drink?”

“No, I'm good. I'd rather have you order us a bottle of expensive wine with strawberries when we get upstairs.” She threw around more hints. Smiling at me with her eyes, I was undressing her with mine.

I was liking her style and had been intrigued by her since the titty bar. There was something out of the ordinary about Butter that made me want her close. Marie was the furthest thought from my mind. The next round of boring business meetings full of proposals to get companies like mine to invest in the rebuild of Detroit, which was more like a gentrification, wasn't 'til noon, so I had all night to party like my father taught me.

The night before he forced me to marry my wife Marie, my dad brought me down to this same casino I was now taking for a ride, getting me drunker than I'd ever been. Taking me to the motel up the street, he opened the door to the dirtiest room I'd ever been in with the prettiest black girl I'd ever laid eyes on. She was dark brown with baby soft skin, an amazing smile, and a fluffy ass unlike any of the white girls in my neighborhood or school. My dad was delivering me a legacy; I'd never forget his words:

My father thought he was creating a replica of himself and the men he followed with the demeaning tradition; but according to my father I would be an even bigger disgrace to my family than any of them had Sally found out. I adored black women. Matter of fact, my attraction to them was stronger than to white women. To keep my hidden lusts as undercover as possible, I sought out beautiful mixed girls who could go either way. I'd never taken anyone but the purest white of white Beckys home to meet my mother and grandmother but my father knew the cold, hard truth. We were just alike in many ways.

“Excuse me, sir, but we have to shut the table down momentarily for shift change. It's been a pleasure being your dealer tonight. Good luck.” The attendant smiled at both Butter and me before dismissing herself.

“Oh, I hate that you have to go. You've been so kind.” I winked again. I wasn't a flirt but I considered myself a ladies' man. Women loved that extra touch in a conversation.

“Why thank you, sir, I'm just doing my job. Please enjoy a round on the house.” The dealer smiled as the waitress showed up on time with another round of what we'd been ordering all night. As her replacement, the banker, and the manager started to break down the table in prep for shift change, I took that as my cue to retire to my room for the private after party.

“We'll take these to go. Please send room service up immediately with a bottle of the casino's finest champagne.” Taking the two shots of Patrón from her platter, I was a firm believer in omens and the muscular, cut dealer on deck who resembled Wesley Snipes probably wasn't gonna bring me a drop of luck. “Come on, baby, so I can break all the way in.” I grabbed Butter's hand, leading her toward the elevator as she followed like a dog in heat.

 

 

I'd gambled at MGM casino before and even fucked in the hotel before, but never in a deluxe luxury suite. Since J.T. was playing like a high roller, I guessed he had to rest his head as one, too. Walking into the 1,000-square-foot luxury corner suite, for a brief moment I was speechless. As my red bottom heels clicked on the marble floor through the foyer on the way to the oversized wraparound window, I couldn't help but to wish upon a star staring out at the sparkling lights illuminating the city of Detroit. This view was spectacular. Too bad my life wasn't close to this small fairytale I was experiencing.

There was a knock at the door. “Room Service.”

“Make yourself comfortable, Butter.” J.T. unbuttoned his shirt, leaving on just a crisp white wife beater. “Let me grab our bottle of champagne and get rid of the help.”

“Oh, okay.”
The help? Yeah, you're rich and white for real. My father's mother would love you. You're just her type.
Trying not to let the abnormal issues I had with my family ruin what was left of the night, I pushed everything about Shawntay and the Schultz to the back of my mind, deciding to take a quick tour of the room. There was a separate sitting area, a wet bar, and the most luxurious bathroom I'd ever seen. Between the forty-inch plasma flat screens in the bedroom and bathroom, I knew it would be hard to tear myself from this place. I could get drunk as a skunk in complete peace.
Oh yeah, this dude has got that old, long cash so I need to pull out some of my best stunts to keep him panting.

“Your wish is my command, pretty lady; here's your drink.” J.T. found me gawking at all of the high-tech amenities then handed me my glass of champagne with strawberries filled to the top. “What type of music would you like to listen to? I've got quite a range loaded up on my iPod.”

“You pick, I can move to anything.” Taking a gulp then a strawberry in my mouth, I sucked on it sexily while at the same time dropping hints.

After turning on a song from John Legend, he wasted no time in going for what he wanted. His hands wandered all over my curvaceous body just like they'd done at the club, but this time in a more seductive way. Sliding his hands down the back of my low-rise pants, he tickled my asshole gently making me breath lightly.
Good thing I paid extra attention to back there.
Starting to sway my hips and grind my crotch on his hands each time he slipped them between my thighs, he didn't have to be tipping right now for me to be turned on. Whatever he was working with, I wanted my taste. This man was making me feel so good.

“G'on and dance for daddy.” He smacked my ass making it jump up and down. Pulling out the fat wad of winnings he'd collected downstairs, my eyes lit up as my pussy juices were now running down my leg, ready to work for every dollar.

“Is all that for me?” I couldn't help but questioning, sounding like an innocent child. Turning around bending it over while spreading 'em wide, I twerked 'til my cheeks ached from J.T. smacking them so hard.

“Show me why you deserve it.” J.T. leaned back onto the couch with his drink in one hand and his other stroking his manhood. Not as hung as the black men I'd gotten rammed by, the width looked like it could do a little damage.

I put on the best show I could for him. From touching him, to myself, to masturbating 'til I came for his viewing pleasure, J.T. was having the time of his life calling himself turning me out. “I don't like all touch and no play.” I wanted him to join in with the fun.