Page 79 of Slippery When Wet

Sooooo, what? Now you wanna refund or some shit ’cause I didn’t fuck you good enough?”

“Oh, you got jokes, huh?”

“Nah. I’m sayin’, yo. What’s good? I mean, damn. You comin’ at me all kinda sideways and I ain’t diggin’ it, yo.”

She huffs. “Whatever. And I didn’t dig how you played me, either. Why you give me that bullshit-ass number, huh, Reggie? If you wasn’t beat to stay in touch you shoulda just said that shit instead of giving me some wrong number. Who does that shit? This is two-thousand-thirteen, niggah. Be real with your shit. I’ma grown-ass woman, okay. Don’t think I fucked you because I was drunk and didn’t know what I was doing. I knew exactly what I was doing when I let you run your fingers all up in my pussy at the bar. And I knew exactly what I was doing when I walked out-side with you. I fucked you because I wanted to. And I remember everything—and I do mean everything—about that night.”

I glance at my watch. It’s almost midnight. “Okay, so what is it you tryna say, ma? It’s getting late ‘n’ I ain’t really beat to be out here all night playing games wit’ you, yo.”

“Niggah, I ain’t playing games. The only one who seems to like to play games is you, niggah.”

I take a deep breath. I feel myself about ready to snap on this broad. “Look. It’s obvious you pissed ’bout something, so say it so we can move on. I’m ready to—”

She catches me off-guard, pulling me into her by the back of my neck and pressing her lips against mine. Next thing I know, she’s straddling me. And we’re going at it. Our tongues are flicking against the others. She’s biting on my bottom lip. I’m biting on hers. She grinds into me. And we go at it hard for what seems like forever, until she pulls back and says, “Ever since that night you fucked me outside in your truck, I’ve been thinking about you,” she says breathlessly. “About this. About what I would do or say to you if or when I saw you again. I wanna slap the shit outta you, niggah.”

I jerk my head back, staring at her. “Yo, you buggin’ for real for real. Why you keep comin’ at me all sideways ‘n’ shit?”

“I ain’t bugging nothing. What you did was fucked up.”

I give her a crazy-ass look. In my head, I know she ain’t talking ’bout what I think she’s talking about. Then again…nah, she ain’t clock me. Or did she?

“I’m not the kinda bitch you play and think it’s all good. Oh, no, niggah. I’ma real bitch. If you wanted to just fuck me, that’s all it coulda been. But, no, you was all up in my ear talking about how you wanna spend time with me, how you wanna keep getting this pussy.”

This ghetto bitch is fucking crazy!

“Yo, c’mon, ma. That was just some shit I was sayin’ in the heat of the moment. I ain’t mean nothing by none of that shit. It was talk.”

“Mmmph. Then you shouldna said it, niggah. Say what you mean, not what the fuck you think a bitch wanna hear.”

Damn, this bitch actin’ like she needs a hug or some shit.

Before I know it, she slides down between my legs ‘n’ tugs at the buckle of my belt. I grab her wrists. “Nah, ma. Don’t.”

She narrows her eyes, sneering. “What, you don’t like your dick sucked, Reggie? Huh, Regggggie? Or is that even your real name?”

I frown, tryna figure out how the fuck I’ma get this crazy nut up outta my whip so I can peel out before shit gets hectic. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise. “Yo, I think you need to bounce, ma. You lettin’ your liquor run ya tongue for you.”

She yanks her hands away. “I ain’t letting shit run my tongue, Regggggie. And I ain’t bouncing nowhere until I see this dick, niggah.” She reaches for my buckle again.

“Nah, yo. Chill.” I grab her wrists again. I don’t wanna take it to her head ’cause I already know it’s gonna make shit pop hard out here. I already know this broad is the type of chick I’d have’ta knock the fuck out. And I ain’t tryna go there if I can help it. “Word is bond, yo. You really comin’ outta pocket, ma.”

“No, niggah. You outta pocket for tryna squeeze my wrists up. Get the fuck off me.” She yanks her hands back. I tell her I ain’t tryna beef wit’ her. That I ain’t looking for problems. I keep calm. Try to reason wit’ this bitch, but she ain’t hearing it.

Next thing I know, she’s back up in my lap, straddling me. “Niggah, you the one outta pocket. And you do gotta problem, niggah. Me. You thought you could fuck me in the backseat of your truck, like I’m some trick-bitch, then play me, huh?”

“I wasn’t playin’ you, yo. I was diggin’ you that night. And I wanted to fuck you. It was sex, ma. So why is you buggin’ like it was something more? I ain’t put a gun to ya head. You let me hit it ’cause you was wit’ it.”

“Yeah, niggah, I was with it. That’s already been established. And, yeah, I know it was only sex. So what? The point is, you shoulda kept it real. But, no, Reggggggie, you played me out giving me a wrong number ‘n’ shit.” She grabs my face rough. I grab her hands. Try to pull her hands away. But she presses her lips into mine. And I ain’t gonna front. The crazier she acts, the hornier I’m getting.

Without much thought, I grab her ass and squeeze. Real shit, this crazy bitch got me wanting to fuck her, again. She pulls back, stares at me for a few seconds, then she moves her mouth closer to my ear.

“You like to role play, huh? You wanted me to play your dirty backseat whore, didn’t you? You thought it was okay to play games with me, huh, Regggggie?”

I grimace. Shit! She knows! “Yo, ma. I don’t know what you’re talkin’?’bout, yo.”

“Bullshit, Regggggie. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

What the fuck, yo?! Why is this bitch draggin’ the shit out? Why don’t she just say what the fuck’s on her mind?

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