Page 47 of In Too Deep

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“It doesn’t matter. I don’t intend on spending the money he’s given me on dumb shit. He can live happily ever after with Trecee and give her babies, and she doesn’t have to know.” I shrugged.

“You do know that you can catch feelings from sex, right? I want you to think about things like that being possible, aside from him tricking off on you and kicking you to the curb like Tuesday’s trash, when he’s done. He’ll do it to Trecee, so he’ll do it to you.”

“I know,” I sighed, the weight of the world settling on my shoulders. “Truth is, I try to psych my mind into thinking it’ll never happen, but when the time comes, I’ll deal with it.”

“Just be careful,” Mimi muttered.

The rest of the ride to her house was quiet until Romelo texted my phone, asking for her to meet him somewhere so she could drop me off. It was wicked, but the thrill of sneaking around was becoming fun. My day to day life was boring, it only consisted of the same shit every day. I had no intention of living vicariously through Trecee. I’ve never had an ego that high to know what that felt like, but riding passenger side with Romelo, him gripping my thighs, singing to me, had me envisioning what being on the other side of life felt like.

When Trecee met Romelo, he’d come by the house, stomping roaches with us in Yolanda’s living room, chilling as if it was normal for him. He’d be dapper in designer labels, sitting on a chipped leather couch, playing with my cousins as if they meant the world to him. He’d take them on play dates, give them money, and buy them school clothes. Trecee didn’t like that either. She didn’t feel obligated to take care of her younger siblings and figured I was the likely suitor since I was always at home during the summertime. I recalled an argument that had me standing on the other side of the fence when she was pissed off at me for taking a ride home from him after work one night.

My dislike for Romelo didn’t stem from him; it came from Trecee, giving me the third degree about him, so I always gave him the cold shoulder to keep the peace between us. Yolanda putting me out at age eighteen came from various reasons, aside from me being able to fend for myself, but considering my age to be grown. The social security checks stopped coming and she couldn’t put me on her food stamp case anymore. I struggled a lot growing up. Doing anything besides selling pussy and sucking dick to survive. I was lucky enough that a man like Romelo found me attractive in the hood, but with Trecee on his arm, he was forbidden. This was every girl’s fantasy, and I’m not ashamed to say that I’m taking advantage of it, while I can either.

“You hungry, Juicy?” he asked while grinning.

Instead of the burgundy Telo Wireless shirt and black denim jeans he wore earlier, he was donned in a white Nike t-shirt, some hoochie gray Nike daddy shorts, and a pair of snow white Nike Air Force Ones. On his left wrist was an icy Audemars Piguet watch. The diamonds in his studs matched the ones in his watch, damn near blinding me when he moved. One hand was on the steering wheel, and the other one was caressing my thighas we cruised through the streets, on Elvis Presley Boulevard, fishing for something to eat.

“I don’t know what I have a taste for,” I replied.

He took his eyes off the road for a second and glanced over at me, biting down on his lip. “I know what I got a taste for.”

I shook my head, slightly blushing, hearing him swoon me over. “I’m sure I can guess what.” Smitten, he shook his head too and focused his attention back on the road. “Let me ask you something.”

My brow raised inquisitively. He continued, “You ever played with your pussy, made yourself cum, and tasted it?”

“Um,” I giggled nervously. “I’m not that freaky, unlike you.” My mouth closed, and my cheeks became heated from blushing.

“You deserve to know why I’m becoming addicted though. That shit taste like my favorite fruit—peaches. That’s why I call you Juicy. Aside from you being thick as fuck, that pussy juicy as fuck like a peach.”

“Do you have a high sex drive?” I inquired, seemingly interested.

It’s one of the only things Trecee never mentioned about him—his dick. All she bragged about was his money and how he spoiled her. His skills in bed was something she pirouetted around. If I was getting fucked to the point of insanity, I’d want people to know, but I guess it differs based on who you’re talking to at the moment because it sure as hell wasn’t girl code. Mimi tells me all the time about her sex life with Oliver.

“Sort of,” he admitted, not ashamed. “You bring this wild shit out of me. You think I went around eating your cousin’s pussy and tongue fucking her? Aside from her odor, I ain’t never thought about no shit like that with her. One look at your fine ass and I’m ready to marry you—make you mine, so won’t no other niggas think about gettin’ a sample of you.”

“That’s crazy,” I uttered.

“That’s the truth.”

Glancing over at me again, he removed his hand from my thigh and brushed his index finger under my chin. “You ever think about if this shit between us went above and beyond what is now?”

My tongue poked the inside of mouth, debating whether or not if I wanted to tell the truth. Not that it mattered anyway though. Suddenly, the hushed conversation Mimi and I had a while ago, made me adjust to my reality. Romelo is like any other guy, with different motives. How do I know that he doesn’t bait women in the same way he did my cousin, with a fairytale. I’d be a fool, pitying myself.

“I think you a regular nigga who gets to pick and choose. You’re the total package, Romelo. You’re who girls want. I’d be crazy to fall for a macho man ass nigga and dream of a better life with you. Let’s not get beside ourselves here. You want something just like I want something. We don’t need to fall in too deep, with the woulda, shoulda, coulda shit,” I muttered, facing forward now, not allowing myself to get dreamy.

“You know you got a smart ass mouth, man. You’ve always had that smart ass mouth?—”

“No,” I cut him off. “I’m a logical thinker, Romelo. At the end of the day, you’re still my cousin’s man.”

“Until I’m not,” he grimaced.

“Then letmedecide if I want to fuck with you or not. You’re considerable though,” I opted as I slightly shrugged my shoulders.

“Hmph, so I guess the ball is in your court?”

“It’s always been in my court,” I stated cockily.

“So, me trapping you inside my house means what?”