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Authors: Noire

BOOK: Sexy Little Liar
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Barron laughed again and pressed his lips to the tender meat of her neck. “Nah, I'm ain't gonna kill her. But I
am
gonna clip that ass. Cut her off at the knees.”
“How?”
He shrugged. “I don't know yet. But if she ever comes back to Texas holding her begging-ass hand out, I'ma handle her.”
Pilar sucked her teeth loudly and pulled out of his arms. Barron was talking all that good shit now, but when Mink was here she'd seen him suck down the girl's funky vapors every chance he got.
“What do you mean you're gonna handle her?”
“Just what I said. If she comes back then I'll handle that ass.”
“But what kind of sucker move is that, Bump? You can't wait for Mink to just bust up in here again! This is a
fight,
baby. You gotta take it to her and toss her on the mat! That chick is from the streets of New York, and trust me, the next time she comes out swinging she's gonna go real gutter with it. Mink has to be declared ineligible for the trust fund money! Forget about sitting around and waiting for her to throw the first punch. Man-up and let's take this fight straight to the ring!”
“Yo, what do you want me to do, Pilar?” Barron smirked. “Send a hit man after the girl?”
“No,” Pilar said after thinking for a moment. “Not a hit man. I want you to hire a private investigator. Find somebody good who knows New York. Find him and let him dig all up in Mink's nasty ass.”
Barron shrugged that off. “I already thought about that one. It would work, but like I said, no matter what they dug up on her Mama just ain't gonna buy it.”
“So? Who said anything about your mother?” Pilar asked slickly. “
Aunt Selah
might not wanna hear about all the low-down shit Mink has done, but the board members at Dominion Oil sure as hell will.”
Barron raised one eyebrow and then chuckled. “Damn girl!” he said as he backed Pilar toward his desk and cleared everything off that shit with one sweep of his arm. “What'd you say your last name was again?”
She giggled. “Ducane. Why?”
Barron cupped her thighs and slid her designer dress up over her ass, then lifted her hips onto the desk and leaned her back. “ 'Cause,” he said as he unzipped his pants and maneuvered his hard dick outta his silk drawers, “the way you talking you sound like you got some Dominion in you, baby. That's for real.”
Pilar giggled again as she fingered her wet pussy and then reached for the thick chocolate bomb pop that he was stroking up in his fist. “I know I
want
some Dominion in me,” she whispered, licking her lips and hoping like hell Barron was too turned on to even think about putting a wrapper on his pretty brown wood. “Oh hell yeah,” she moaned from deep in her throat as he slid his thick black dick up inside her hot tunnel and started pounding her nice and raw. “I damn sure want some Dominion
in
me.”
CHAPTER 5
“
A
in't no party like a New York party!” Bunni slurred as we sat up in Club Wood getting toasted up to the max. As usual the club was packed out with ballers and hustlers, and chicks with plump titties and huge asses were workin' their pockets all the way down to the last lint ball.
Me and Bunni were on one! We were ballin' our asses off, and mad party-goers were giving up the props and paying us our righteous respect. I started off buying rounds for all the chicks that I usually stripped with, and by the time the getting got good my ass was flying so high I bought the whole damn bar out!
Them long-throated chicks was guzzling Krug and tossing back Hen-Hen like every liquor store in the city of New York was about to go bone-dry. I chugged down my share of alky too, but I was careful to watch my shit being poured from the bottle because the last time I got tipsy up in Club Wood somebody had slipped me a tab and I got caught up in a serious flimflam.
See, Bunni and Peaches had bagged a cross-dressing principal of a prestigious boys' school in a blackmail scam that we were charging him twenty-five large to get out of. They had sent me out to pick up the loot, and me and the principal had agreed to meet at Club Wood and conduct our little transaction right there in the club. But as soon as I gave him the blackmail pictures and he handed over the brick of cash, that slick old skeezer had trapped me in a cross-con. Some fine nigga named Dajuan Latrell Sullivan, aka Daddy Long Stroke, had slipped something in my drink when I wasn't looking and then he fucked me hard and robbed me blind.
Getting stole like that was one reason I had let Bunni talk me into going way down to Texas to gank those rich folks in the first place, and now that we had pulled off our slick grimy lick and we were back in our own territory, I was damn glad that I had gone.
“
Girlll
,” Bunni drawled in her deep-fried ghetto twang. “Lil Bang and them got some real good shit flowing in the back,” she told me. “Chronic, sess, 'dro. Shit, they got some good X back there too, girl. It's our first night back in the city. Let's go for broke and get all the way live!”
Free head banga? Bunni didn't have to tell me twice. I almost broke my damn neck climbing off the barstool and hauling ass toward the back of the club. My swagger was on one hundred as I shook my hips in my tiny-tasseled purple go-go skirt, and niggas who had seen me rock the poles buck naked a thousand times still couldn't keep their hands off my bangin' hips as I sashayed by.
We danced and grinded and got so lifted that we broke daylight up in that camp, and when we finally crawled back up to the front of the club all dry-mouthed and zooted, Perry and his cleanup crew were putting the barstools up on the counter as they got ready to mop the gritty floors down.
“Goddamn!” Our rap-a-licious limo driver said as the three of us stumbled outside and he squinted into the early-morning sun. He had hung hard with us the entire night and probably puffed more yay and drank more liq than me and Bunni put together. He dug in his uniform pocket and came out with his limo keys, then wobbled on his feet as he held them shits up in the air and let 'em dangle. “I'm fucked up like a
mutha
fucka! Which one of y'all nasty bitches wanna drive?”
 
Life for me and Bunni was turning out to be one big-ass party, and I swiped that bank card they gave me in Texas so many times that I got a crook in my damn wrist. Regardless of all the stores we had hit while we were down in Dallas, the best shopping in the world was right here in New York City, and we sho'nuff dropped some dollars in the Big Apple too.
I had always had a good eye for hot fashion, and it seemed like having money just made me appreciate the finer shit even more. I spent mad loot adorning my body from head to toe in stylish shit from designers like Brian Atwood, Vera Wang, and Tracy Reese. I became a real label whore, and as long as something sounded expensive and exotic, I plunked down my bank card and snatched that shit right up.
“Madame Mink,” Peaches warned me one night as our limo driver carried a truckload of bags and boxes inside the crib from every major store in the city, “you're trying to do too much, baby girl. You're gonna wake up one morning and every dime you got is gonna be spent.”
Deep inside I knew Peaches was talking true shit, but I was having way too much fun to hear all that. Me and Bunni had just splurged on a penthouse suite at The Plaza for NBA weekend, and right now we were getting dressed to head down to Chelsea to take one of those real crazy Urban Desire party cruises up and down the Hudson River. Peaches could go 'head with all that noise he was talking. Besides, I mighta been a real big spender but I was nobody's big fool. Gutta's cash was already tucked away to the side for when he came home, and I was planning on tearing Punchie Collins off a hunk of dough in a minute too. On top of that, Bunni had found a dude who was gonna sell us some cut-rate crack at a real stupid price, and the way we figured it we would triple our investment on every transaction.
I igged Peaches. My shit mighta looked funky from the outside, but on the real tip I knew what I was doing. And Peaches needed to stop all that stuntin' any damn way because he was benefitting from the money too. Not only was his rent paid up for the next six months, but me and Bunni had gotten down fifty-fifty on a bunch of back-alley estrogen shots for him so he could get ready for his sex change operation. He was shooting them female hormones in his ass left and right, and damn if there wasn't two wubby little titties tryna pop out on his hairy, muscular chest.
“Madame Mink are you listening to me?” he demanded.
“Yo, I got this, P,” I told him as I finished getting dressed for the party cruise. The boat held four hundred people and I wanted to make damn sure I stood out as the numero uno bitch in the crowd. I was rocking a lemon-ice Glama-Glo with long spiral curls down the back, and a skin-tight lemon-ice mermaid dress with silver jewels glittering everywhere. “I'ma pay my fine on Monday and take care of business like I'm supposed to, Peach, okay? So quit all that damn worrying. Mizz Mink Minaj has all this shit here under control.”
“Errrm-herrrm,” Peaches said, twisting his lips as he looked at me sideways. “
Errrm-herrrrm
. Yep. Whatever you say.”
 
I didn't mess around too tough with no water, but the boat scene was all the way live! Me and Bunni got there a little bit late but we was still right on time. It was one big floating party going on and there were fine niggas ballin' every damn where. But there were some hater bitches on the scene too. Especially the ones who were from around our way. One lil come-up in particular had followed me around all night shooting me dagger looks and tryna throw salt in my game 'cause she'd heard I was holding and she couldn't stand to see a bitch who was paid.
“Watch ya pockets!” she screamed on every dude who so much as looked at me. “She's a live one! A true tricksta! Schemin' Mink is in da house!”
“Igg that bitch,” Bunni warned me as the young chick who lived on our block kept right on following us around flossin' about how I wasn't nothing but a liar and a big ass thief.
“Nah, Bunni!” I said, getting heated. “I oughtta fly her big, water-head right off her scrawny neck,” I fumed. Didn't
no
guttersnipe hater get to flounce around putting Mizz Mink's game on blast! “Yeah, I should walk right up on her and fuck her lil ass up!”
Bunni hand-checked me. “Remember now, you ain't paid ya fines yet so you still got a
W
hangin' over your head. Fuck her lil ass up and the cops are gonna come. And if the cops come your ass is going to jail. Just igg that crazy bitch, Mink. I don't mind beating her ass, but she just ain't worth poppin' off no bullshit drama tonight.”
I knew Bunni was right so that's what I did. I igged what was comin' outta that raggedy trick's mouth and laughed every time she walked past me talking shit with her gigantic dome wobbling around on her scrawny neck. I was pissed off though. This was the same chick who used to bum Pamper money from me for her baby, and now she was smellin' herself and tryna come at my throat.
Sheeiiit.
Mami must didn't know she wasn't slick enough or fine enough to compete with a prime stunna like me! She didn't have the body, the mug, or the skillz!
I had forgot all about her lil ass when I went upstairs and saw my sherm friend Borne chillin' up on the top deck. Borne was my little emergency-fund friend. We fucked around sometimes and I could always count on him to come to my rescue whenever I was in a tight spot. Borne looked a'ight in the face, and even though he had a nice big dick he was a square and he was skinny, and he definitely wasn't in the hustling game.
“My girl Mink!” He got up and hugged me real tight. He stepped back and looked me up and down with mad appreciation, and I stood there and took it, knowing I looked fuckably delicious, like I was about to go floating up the Hudson in my skimpy little mermaid dress.
Borne grabbed my arm and kinda yoked me up a lil bit as we walked along the deck. My eyes was everywhere as I checked out all the playas and hustlers on the scene, but Borne was busy doing that jealous-nigga thang. That thang weak nigs did when they had fucked you real good a few times and wanted to make sure everybody knew it.
And the lil hater bitch who was talking noise acted like she knew it too.
“C'mon.” I grabbed Borne's hand when I saw her coming my way again. We ducked into a little room that was full of toilet paper and cleaning supplies. I could tell Borne was horny as hell, and a hottie like me was always down for some good dick. I let him kiss all over my titties and then I unzipped the bottom of my mermaid dress and hiked it up around my waist and let him bang my shit out. It was kinda good and yeah, he made me get all wet and gushy, but after it was all over my high was blown and I realized that this wasn't the dick that I had really wanted.
“Was that shit good for you?” Borne whispered as he tore open a pack of toilet tissue. He rolled up a ball and stuck it between my legs and patted my coochie dry.
All I could do was shrug. I'd gotten me a nut, but something had been seriously missing from that fuck! I mean, yeah, Borne was a piper and all that, and yeah, he had stamina and could push it pretty good, but on the real? My ass was spoiled! I had gone down to Dallas and gotten me some Texas-sized dick, and no matter how much meat Borne was packin' he wasn't no kinda match for Uncle Suge!
If all it took was a couple dollars to burn a hole in your pockets, then I could see why my entire plump apple ass was flaming on fire! Peaches had jinxed my flow in a real bad way, because just like he predicted, somehow I woke up one morning broke as shit, with only the money I had stashed away for Gutta left to my name.
“Girl, where in the hell did all that money go?” Bunni had the nerve to stunt on me like she wasn't the one right by my side helping me spend up every dime.
“Bitch stop playing!” I told her. “You know where all the damn money went.” I was ashamed to even think about the way that dough had disappeared into thin air, let alone count it up. But on the real, most of it was gone. Forget about the thousands I had spent getting tips on liquor and drugs, I had also bought enough new clothes to last me all the way to forever. Shit, my ass had shopped feverishly, like a junkie who needed to be in rehab. Fashion changes on a daily basis in New York, and a chick like me didn't know nothing about a budget. As long as something looked good, cost a gwap, and had a foreign-sounding label on it, I had grabbed it and paid for it. You woulda thought my boosting days were over the way I was dropping dollars. I had bought out the entire new line of Glama-Glo wigs too, and Neiman Marcus, Bloomingdale's, and Bergdorf Goodman had become my favorite new hangout spots.
Of course I had slid the city of New York ten yards for my court costs so I could keep my ass outta jail, and I gave Peaches almost ten grand to help him get his titty shots and whatnot too. But between shopping, renting limos, throwing hot-ass parties, rocking fabulous jewelry, and sucking down lobster dinners at expensive restaurants and buying front-row tickets for a few bangin' concerts me and Bunni wanted to see, I had burnt up more than fifty grand.
“So how much you got left in the bank?” Bunni demanded like she was my damn accountant or something.

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