Page 32 of Priest

“Bingo,” Sunny called out slowly and pointed a finger at me.

“What?”

“I caught that shit, nigga. You said ‘until’ not ‘unless.’ Freudian slip, my nigga?”

“Gone with that bullshit.”

“I mean, it’s okay to like the princess if you’re into that type.”

I mugged Sunny, who was smirking at me.

“What type?”

“Bad and bougie. That’s one bad ass chick. Thick thighs, a fat ass that sits up like a donkey, milk jugs made to feed some babies, and hips that make you wanna hold ’em while she rides yo’ shit. ’Sides, she’s cuter than a muthafucka. Nobody can’t deny it, but she looks like the type that would be high maintenance like a muthafucka too.”

“She is.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Sunny asked, “And you would know that how?”

“You worried ’bout the wrong muthafuckin thing,” I replied with a smirk.

“Make her yo’ ho.”

“She ain’t a ho, Sunny. And she ain’t the type you’d transform into one either,” I replied and dragged my hand down my face.

“Okay, how about making her your old lady?”

“How about I put a bullet between your eyes?”

“Ornery ass nigga. You a cantankerous ass. Must be that old age creeping up on you now that you chasing after that young ass. Better leave that jailbait alone,” he stated with a laugh.

“Nigga, she ain’t jailbait.”

“She ain’t watching her biological clock either. How old is she? Eighteen, nineteen?”

“Nah, she legal pussy.”

“Fuccc! Nigga, what you tryna say? Eighteen and nineteen-year-old pussy is legal as a muthafucka. It’s juicy, rich, and young. At least, I bet hers is.”

“I don’t know how old she is, but I know she’s legal. I doubt she’s that fuckin’ young, though. Probably twenty-five or twenty-six.”

“Ask the question.”

“What you think this is? The dating game or some shit?”

“I don’t know, nigga,” Sunny replied with a shrug and laughter. “You keep her locked up at that house. Got niggas speculating what might be going on, and Cheekz running crazy ’round this bitch with her jealous ass.”

“She needs to chill on all that. Speaking of which,” I stated with a glance at my watch. “I need to get back to the house.”

“What about Morgan?”

“His ass can call me back and let me know if he got it. When he says it’s a go, then I’ll send someone to meet his lame ass. Until then, I’m ’bout to go get my dick wet.”

“Cheekz will be happy to hear that.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Ain’t nobody said shit ’bout no Cheekz. Quit fact-checking.”

“Simp ass nigga,” Sunny declared, pushed up off the couch, and headed for the door.

---