Why don’t you just admit it?”
He laughed then said, “You called me Q.”
She bit down on her pizza. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. It’s okay though, because all my friends call me Q. I don’t like that Quentin shit, anyway.”
Her eyes lit up. “Quentin is the nice guy, and Q is the nigga.” “You funny.”
She sat the pizza down and looked him in his eyes. “Q just wants to fuck. Quentin will treat me with respect. Q can be a womanizer. Quentin has respect for his mother and his sister.”
Q looked confused. “You think you know me, shorty?”
“I don’t know, but I’m just hoping there’s some good in everybody.”
He licked his lips again. For a few moments she imagined him between her legs, stroking her clit with his tongue. Damn, she wanted to fuck Q and not Quentin. She wanted it rough at that moment and Q seemed like he could handle the job.
“So what we doing after the pizza, shorty?”
She looked at her watch. It was only 1:00 p.m. “I have a client.”
He looked startled. “What do you mean you have a client?”
“I do hair.”
“What? You work in a salon or something?”
“No. I do natural hair and braids…twists. You know?”
“Okay. I feel you. Getting your hustle on, huh?” He laughed. Then he said, “Didn’t you pull up in that red Benz?”
“Yeah.” She drank some tea. “I know what you’re about to say.”
He grinned a toothy smile and it made her heart beat faster. “What am I about to say?”
“Probably wondering how in the hell can I afford a car like that?”
“You guessed it.”
“It was a gift from a guy friend.”
Q knew Tommy had probably given her the car but he would play dumb. “What you got—a sugar daddy?”
She smacked his arm with an open hand. “What, you think I’m a ho or something?”
“No, I’m just saying who the hell gives a chick a Benz except a sugar daddy or a hustler?”
“Let me change the subject, because I’m getting upset.”
Q grabbed her hand and caressed it while making direct eye contact. “Listen. I’m sorry, shorty. I could care less about the car.” He still caressed her hand and made a point to look into her eyes.
She yanked her hand back from him and lowered her voice. “Quentin, what do you want?”
“Nothing. I just wanna have a good time with you, that’s all.”
“I’m not that easy.”
He wanted to ask her what she meant, but he didn’t say anything.
“If you’re here for pussy, it ain’t that easy.”
He smiled like she had read his mind. “What you like? I mean, I know you like nice things. How can I romance you?”
“Well, if you have to ask, obviously you don’t know anything about romance.”
Q smirked. “You don’t know me. I know how to treat a lady, but the key word is lady .”
“I’m one.”
“Yes the fuck you are,” Q said as he looked her up and down until his eyes landed on her thigh. He was amazed at her curvy figure.
“Q, I really just like simple things, like attention. That’s how you can get me.”
“That’s it?”
“I’m not a gold digger.”
He peered through the window, eyeing the Benz. He knew Tommy was fat and insecure. There was no way in the world Tommy would believe he got her just by being nice. Q looked her up and down again. Tommy had paid for her alright.
“I didn’t say you was a gold digger.”
“Write me a letter. That’s how you can get me. Write me a heartfelt letter. I mean, share your feelings with me.”
“A letter? How bout an email or a message from my Sidekick?”
She frowned. “I want a letter—that’s more personal.”
He looked confused. “Do people even write letters anymore?” *****
The goons pulled along side Tommy in a dark color SUV. Always being conscious of his surroundings, especially at night, he looked to his left. A biracial man in the backseat of the SUV looked over and laughed at him, then blew a cloud of smoke out the window. Another man on the passenger side held a blunt to his mouth. Tommy kept his eyes on the men, from his
He laughed then said, “You called me Q.”
She bit down on her pizza. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. It’s okay though, because all my friends call me Q. I don’t like that Quentin shit, anyway.”
Her eyes lit up. “Quentin is the nice guy, and Q is the nigga.” “You funny.”
She sat the pizza down and looked him in his eyes. “Q just wants to fuck. Quentin will treat me with respect. Q can be a womanizer. Quentin has respect for his mother and his sister.”
Q looked confused. “You think you know me, shorty?”
“I don’t know, but I’m just hoping there’s some good in everybody.”
He licked his lips again. For a few moments she imagined him between her legs, stroking her clit with his tongue. Damn, she wanted to fuck Q and not Quentin. She wanted it rough at that moment and Q seemed like he could handle the job.
“So what we doing after the pizza, shorty?”
She looked at her watch. It was only 1:00 p.m. “I have a client.”
He looked startled. “What do you mean you have a client?”
“I do hair.”
“What? You work in a salon or something?”
“No. I do natural hair and braids…twists. You know?”
“Okay. I feel you. Getting your hustle on, huh?” He laughed. Then he said, “Didn’t you pull up in that red Benz?”
“Yeah.” She drank some tea. “I know what you’re about to say.”
He grinned a toothy smile and it made her heart beat faster. “What am I about to say?”
“Probably wondering how in the hell can I afford a car like that?”
“You guessed it.”
“It was a gift from a guy friend.”
Q knew Tommy had probably given her the car but he would play dumb. “What you got—a sugar daddy?”
She smacked his arm with an open hand. “What, you think I’m a ho or something?”
“No, I’m just saying who the hell gives a chick a Benz except a sugar daddy or a hustler?”
“Let me change the subject, because I’m getting upset.”
Q grabbed her hand and caressed it while making direct eye contact. “Listen. I’m sorry, shorty. I could care less about the car.” He still caressed her hand and made a point to look into her eyes.
She yanked her hand back from him and lowered her voice. “Quentin, what do you want?”
“Nothing. I just wanna have a good time with you, that’s all.”
“I’m not that easy.”
He wanted to ask her what she meant, but he didn’t say anything.
“If you’re here for pussy, it ain’t that easy.”
He smiled like she had read his mind. “What you like? I mean, I know you like nice things. How can I romance you?”
“Well, if you have to ask, obviously you don’t know anything about romance.”
Q smirked. “You don’t know me. I know how to treat a lady, but the key word is lady .”
“I’m one.”
“Yes the fuck you are,” Q said as he looked her up and down until his eyes landed on her thigh. He was amazed at her curvy figure.
“Q, I really just like simple things, like attention. That’s how you can get me.”
“That’s it?”
“I’m not a gold digger.”
He peered through the window, eyeing the Benz. He knew Tommy was fat and insecure. There was no way in the world Tommy would believe he got her just by being nice. Q looked her up and down again. Tommy had paid for her alright.
“I didn’t say you was a gold digger.”
“Write me a letter. That’s how you can get me. Write me a heartfelt letter. I mean, share your feelings with me.”
“A letter? How bout an email or a message from my Sidekick?”
She frowned. “I want a letter—that’s more personal.”
He looked confused. “Do people even write letters anymore?” *****
The goons pulled along side Tommy in a dark color SUV. Always being conscious of his surroundings, especially at night, he looked to his left. A biracial man in the backseat of the SUV looked over and laughed at him, then blew a cloud of smoke out the window. Another man on the passenger side held a blunt to his mouth. Tommy kept his eyes on the men, from his
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