Love, Betrayal & Dirty Money: A Hood Romance by Quiana Nicole

Author:Quiana Nicole [Nicole, Quiana]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, African American, Urban, Women's Fiction, Genre Fiction
Amazon: B014CI5LCC
Publisher: Royalty Publishing House
Published: 2015-08-23T04:00:00+00:00

*****

It’d been about two weeks since me and Kimmie had been sneaking around behind El Loco’s back, and I loved it. Not only did she do that one thing with her tongue, but the girl did the most amazing thing with her feet that got me every time. There was nothing like a woman that knew how to please her man. Kimmie had me feeling real good, almost like she was the one. She had me out there taking her to Broadway plays and concerts like we was married and shit. A nigga wasn’t used to that, but she said she liked it. I’m guessing it had to do with the fact that she was going to school and majoring in anthropology. How many daughters of drug kingpins talk about transferring to Rutgers to get a graduate degree? None that I know of. Daughters of kingpins normally go to get their bachelor’s in Louis Vuitton, master’s in Fendi, and doctorate in Versace– that way, they can say that they were well-rounded. Another reason that I loved her was that she don’t have her hand stuck out all the time. I wanna take care of her, but shit, she came from that paper. Once El Loco hit me with them bricks, then I could give her the world. That is, if he didn’t kill me first.

Right now, though, she agreed to let me take her to my corner of the world, Harlem USA. We was up there sharing a burger back at my favorite spot, Harlem Shake. The sexy Jamaican that I forgot to call two weeks ago was griming me like I owed her something–which I did, I owed her this dick, but that’s not where my focus was right now. I had to head out to Cali to take care of Mack for El Loco, and when I came back, I thought I would surprise my girl with a vacation somewhere. St. Lucia maybe. Naw, we should go to Trinidad. Or maybe Colombia, where her family was from. I know she misses her uhb, uhbw, uhbwe-luh? I think that’s how she says it. Just sounds so much better coming out of her mouth.

“What are you thinking about?” Kimmie asked as she daintily bit the Harlem Jerk burger, jerk fries falling out the side of the burger as she sunk her teeth in.

“You. Trying to figure out when and where I did a good deed that would allow our paths to cross,” I replied, leaning over to lick the jerk sauce from her lips.

She giggled at my act of chivalry. “Well, it must’ve been something spectacular, because I am perfectly content whenever we’re together.”

The Jamaican waitress switched those hips over to our table and threw the bill down. “Twenty five dollars,” she fumed.

“Twenty five dollars? All we had was a burger and two shakes,” I griped.

“Well dats wat it ah. Pay up or I’ll call de babylon!” she yelled.

Fishing the money out of my pocket, I threw it on the table and we left.

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