Sexy Little Liar (2 page)

Read Sexy Little Liar Online

Authors: Noire

BOOK: Sexy Little Liar
3.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
CHAPTER 2
B
arron Dominion hopped out of his white-on-white 2012 Maybach and slammed the door behind him. He had dropped his so-called sister Mink off at the airport earlier in the day, and he had been damn glad to get rid of her ass too. But even before Mink's New York–bound plane could take to the skies, Barron had gotten a phone call hipping him to her shiesty game and bringing him back to the same DNA lab that had fucked him around in the first place.
Striding boldly across the street, Barron eyed the front door of Exclusively DNA and frowned. Them bastards up in there didn't know who they were fucking with today. As the oldest son in the Dominion dynasty and a cutthroat young corporate attorney, Barron was holding the reins as the acting CEO of Dominion Oil, a highly prosperous empire that his slick, self-made millionaire father, Viceroy Dominion, had built from the ground up.
For the past few months Viceroy had been drifting in and out of a coma after sustaining serious head trauma in an oil rig explosion, and the task of keeping his clan together and protecting their vast, multi-million-dollar fortune had fallen directly into Barron's lap.
Barron stepped up to the front door of the lab and yanked at the door handle. The last time he had to come down here shit had gotten real ugly. Half-drunk and zooted up on some damn good 'dro, he had gone in hard on a lab technician and broken his fuckin' nose. And it was all because of that chick Mink LaRue, the hot-ghetto scam artist from New York City who had tried to run a game on his family and con them out of a hundred grand and a share of the Dominion trust fund.
Mink had connived her way into their inner circle by pretending to be his kidnapped sister Sable, and somehow her DNA had come back a perfect match for the missing little girl too. But Barron had been two steps ahead of the shiesty Harlem diva, and he'd slipped a lab tech named Kelvin Merchant fifteen big ones to not only make that matching lab report disappear, but to slide him a bogus report showing Mink as a negative match for Sable instead.
But somehow the dumb-ass clerk had fucked around and let the truth leak out. Barron had been on a big one as he sat at the dinner table with the rest of his family and listened to his mother read from a DNA report and announce that Mink LaRue was definitely Sable Dominion, the long-missing member of their family. Barron had jumped straight up and disputed that shit as hard as he could, but no matter how many suspicions he cast on Mink and the report, his mother had been holding all the evidence she needed right in her hands.
So Barron had tossed back some Hen dog and wilded straight out. The next morning he had busted up in the lab head-butting niggas and throwing killer blows, and by the time it was all over he had beaten the dog shit outta the incompetent lab technician whose stupid mistake had cost Barron a hundred yards.
But karma really was the muthafucka everybody said it was, and today, just minutes after dropping Mink and her ghetto sidekick off at the airport, Barron's cell phone had buzzed and Kelvin Merchant had been on the line. And the crazy-ass story that rolled outta the lab tech's mouth had jabbed Barron hard in the gut and completely blown his mind.
We had another specimen come in this week from a young lady from Philadelphia. I was asked to run tests on her sample and compare the results to your sister Sable's DNA . . . I know you probably don't wanna hear this but . . . umm . . . we've got another match.
Mink,
Barron's eyes had immediately narrowed.
That scheming little bitch!
His collar got real tight as a hot image of her sexy body and conniving eyes flashed through his mind. That chick was nothing but a hood leech. She would suck your pockets dry if you let her. Her and that skank sidekick she rolled with had gotten away with over a hundred grand of Dominion cash, and Mink's slick game of trickery was so on point that she had fooled almost everybody she met.
Almost
everybody, Barron reminded himself as he strode across the threshold of Exclusively DNA and slammed the door shut behind him. Because no matter how many smooth lies flew out of that gutter chick's mouth, and no matter what the fuck some doctored-up DNA report said, Barron hadn't been fooled by the crookedness of Mink's tongue or by that little-girl-lost act she had put on for his family. Yeah, he mighta lusted after those ripe, perfect titties she had on her, and yep, his nose was open on those wide, swinging hips the girl rocked, and
hell yeah
he had beat his shit off and fantasized about that lusciously plump booty perched above Mink's perfectly shaped butterscotch thighs, but he hadn't been fooled by her scheming ass at all. Nope. Not at all.
CHAPTER 3
“
R
eally
, Madame Mink?” Bunni's brother Peaches fussed at me as he peered into the mirror and plucked a few stray hairs off his muscled-up chest. Peaches was six feet five and his chocolately body was rock hard and buff as shit. He was sitting at the kitchen table looking real special in his lacy pink half-slip and sexy lime-green stilettos, and the boosted nine-hundred-dollar diamond ring glistening on his finger was definitely to go to jail for.
Me and Bunni had lit through a whole lotta money while we were down in Dallas, and we'd splurged on a bunch of fly gear for Peaches too. We'd hit a huge drag queen store and racked up on the kind of frilly, nonsensical shit that a prissy dude like Peaches loved to style, but there was no way me and Bunni could get our big brother the two things he was feening for the most: a pair of lumped up titties and a nice fluffy ass.
“I mean,
really
!” He side-eyed me and smirked as I repeated my request into the phone. “Who does that?”
“Who does
what
?” I sucked my teeth and cradled the phone against my shoulder. The last thing I wanted was Peaches and his common sense bringing me down to earth when I was
so
feeling myself up in the sky! I had dialed up one of the biggest limo services in the city and I was waiting on hold as they checked to see if they could scramble around and find me exactly what I wanted.
“Mink.” Peaches frowned. “Be for real now, baby girl. You really want them people to send you a stretch Hummer
and
a thugged-out driver who can rap? Ere damn day? For a whole goddamn month?” Peaches pursed his glistening lips and then made little popping sounds as he worked his shiny lip-gloss around. “That damn money is burning a hole in your push-up bra, girl. I don't see why you and Bunni can't just catch a cab or take the train like you been doing.” He frowned at me, then rolled his eyes. “That's a whole lotta good money you about to toss off, if you ask me. And after all the drama and hard knocks you done been through, please don't tell me you ain't learned your lesson yet.”
I frowned right back at his ass. Peaches could be a real buster sometimes. He was just like somebody's grandmama. He had practically raised me and Bunni from the time we were thirteen years old, and even though I was hardheaded and couldn't nobody tell me shit, when Peaches spoke I usually listened.
Usually. But not this time.
“C'mon, now, P,” I whined. “Get wit' it! Me and Bunni worked like crazy down there in hot-ass Texas!
Shiiit
, we deserve to floss! Don't worry, I'ma get straight with everybody I owe, but a bitch just turned twenty-one and it's my time to shine, ya feel me?”
Peaches smirked. “I feel Punchie's fist busting you in ya mouth, that's what I feel. But go 'head witcha grown-ass self. I know one thing, you and Bunni better keep a real tight count on all that money, you hear? Or y'all gonna look up one day and find every single dime of it
gone
.”
It took about an hour for our limo to show up, and by that time me and Bunni had already fought over the mirror in the tiny bathroom and slid our luscious bodies into our very best gear. We pranced down the pissy staircase and outta that raggedy-ass tenement like we were tipping out of a mansion, and when I peeped the shiny stretch limo at the curb and the bangin' dude who was pushing it, I just couldn't keep the grin off my face.
Our driver was tall and fine and looked like a pussy-killer dressed up in a suit. His eyes were popped open just as wide as mine were, and he started drooling the moment he got a good look at the package I was holding.
“Ooh-
wee
!” he exclaimed as me and Bunni pranced outta the building. “What's your name, baby?”
“Mink.” I giggled and smoothed the top of my perfect-peach Glama-Glo wig. “Mink Minaj.”
The heat in his eyes burnt up the tassels on my peach and purple go-go skirt as I switched my freaky hips toward his gleaming ride.
“Yeah, you got that Nicki groove on lock,” he growled, eyeballing my cleavage like he was a vampire kitten who wanted to suck my milk. “But your back pockets is even fatter than hers.”
I giggled and made sure he got a good look at my plump yellow thighs as I slid onto the plush leather seat. I was used to turning dudes on, and fucking with their heads was nothing but a big game to me. It was all part of my hustle, and I didn't care if a man was in high school or strapped down to a bed in a nursing home, if he had swole pockets then his ass was a mark in my book, and I hit him upside the head with my wicked sex appeal every chance I got.
Dude had just slammed the car door when a shiny-black psycho wearing a doo-rag tied over his cornrows bust outta the front door of the building eyeing me like he was an assassin. My heart banged in my chest. It was crazy Punchie Collins. He was a local drug-slanga that I had ganked for about a grand. Word that I was back in town musta gotten back to him, and I could tell by the way he was grilling me that he wanted his cash.
“Yo, whattup!” he hollered, holding his hands up high in the air and shooting me gang signs as he eyeballed our flashy setup. “Yo, I see you got whips and mad jewels and new rags . . . but where the fuck my package at, Mink?”
“I see you, Punchie!” I hollered out the window and fronted him off. “I got you, boo!” I winked and gave his throwed-off ass two thumbs-up. “Be'lee that, papi. I'ma tear you off and treat you right!”
And I was too. I was gonna pay off Punchie Collins, take care of my court costs, pay the bill on Gutta's storage so they wouldn't auction all his shit off, and then find me a way to flip the rest of my money and make it last a long, long time. Yeah, all that shit was definitely gonna happen, I told myself as the limo pulled away from the curb and Punchie launched a round of hot bullets outta his eyes, but first I was gonna get my head right and do Mizz Mink Minaj tonight!
 
Me and Bunni were back on our old stomping grounds! One hundred and twenty-fifth Street was still live as hell and Club Wood was still the place to be! We rode in the whip with the music blastin' and the sexy driver rappin' us a hot stripper song by that rowdy Reem Raw.
 
Lil Mama I can see it in ya eyes we can ride if you ready to roll!
I got the Caddy double-parked outside we can slide if you ready to go!
The way she grind pop it back, make it wind
Got my mind goin' outta control . . .
Other bitches they don't wanna see you shine
She get by 'em when she droppin' it low!
I just wanna see you take it down lowerrr!
Break it down!
Let them haters see you make it roll overrr!
Break it down!
It ain't nothing these other bitches can show her
She the shit ,and she know it, but I'ma show her just how to
Break down!
 
Our limo pulled up directly outside the front door, and me and Bunni got ready to make our grand entrance at the strip club where we used to trick off customers, swindle squares, and dominate butter bitches on the poles.
“Wait!” I slapped Bunni's hand as she reached over to open her door. “Don't get out yet! You know them fools are probably peeping all out the damn windows,” I stunted. “You gotta learn how to floss your shit properly, Bunni. Let's chill for a few minutes and give these niggas a chance to appreciate our status, ya heard?”
With the music blasting, we sat in the back of the limo and got tipsy on the bottle of liquor that came with the ride, and even though he wasn't supposed to be doing no drinking on the job, our fine ass driver tossed back a few right along with us.
“Them pole bitches ain't gonna believe it's us,” Bunni squealed when we finally slithered outta the whip about ten minutes later. Just like I predicted, faces was pressed up all against the front window as the strippers and hoes tried to figure out which rich celebrity baller was about to bless Club Wood with his pocket stash tonight.
I cracked up at all the hater eyes that swept over us as we walked through the door. These hoes were disappointed as hell that it was me and Bunni rollin' in instead of two paid-out-the-ass NBA ballers looking for a lap dance and a little bit of licky-lick.
“Mink!” my fake-friend Punanee ran over and tried to hug me like she was glad to see me back. Punanee thought she was the shit because she used to headline on the main stage over at the G-Spot, but I couldn't stand her ass. “Girl where y'all been? Niggas been asking about your ass for weeks! I been showing off your double-hump moves and wracking up on
all
your customers, honey!”
I shook Punanee off as the crowd parted to let me and Bunni get to the bar. That trick could keep my damn customers. Mizz LaRue was paid now, and all that ass shaking and pole humping was in the past for me. Uh-uh. I was done with that type of physical labor. Didn't no self-respecting daughter of Viceroy and Selah Dominion have to grind her pussy around up on no stage and make it rain for her greenbacks no more. Hell, nah. I was a Dominion now, and I was real proud to say that me and my rich play-daddy down in Dallas was just alike. Both of us had gotten our paper the easy way.
We stole it!

Other books

A Cowboy in Manhattan by Barbara Dunlop
Broken Angels (Katie Maguire) by Masterton, Graham
One Thousand Nights by Christine Pope
Witch Week by Diana Wynne Jones
The Christmas Cookie Killer by Livia J. Washburn