Playtime Rules

Rule #12 Ashes to Ashes

Rule number twelve replayed in her head: ashes to ashes.

When a brother wore out his welcome, bounce, peace out, see ya, Sayanora, let it go, and in the infamous words of N'Sync, "Bye, bye, bye!"

She would not let her mind think about Jevonte as she went on about her life. She still had to finish the two properties she worked hard on, flip them, make her profit and find new homes to buy. The market was crazy right now and even though she did not like to buy a new house before she completed her current projects, if she did not grab them now, someone else would.

The way her money was sitting, she could buy new properties now, but if she did not make the profit back she projected, things could get sticky.

But she was never wrong about her money. So she put in a bid for a house in Florrisant, even though the north county was fickle as hell. It was a nice area, most of the houses went for close to a million. She needed it to sell for well over a million. She was up for the challenge.

She could not start demoing the house until her contractors finished the other two, meanwhile, the house would just sit there and every day it did, she lost money. If she trusted more people, she could find new guys that could do the house, but she liked what worked for her in the past.

"I need a little fun in my life," she told herself, a week after the JeVonte fiasco.

She booked a flight, first class to Dallas to see her one friend...or should she call him, boy toy, Deiondre. He did not play for the Dallas team, but he lived there off-season. She was in the mood to be with a man that knew how to wine and dine her.

She checked into her favorite Dallas hotel, the Ritz-Carlton, then relaxed in the jacuzzi tub with chilled champagne to get her mind off work and...that boy.

She had not told her baller boy that she was coming to see him, but oh well. His other side bitches would have to just kick rocks. She was the main dish. The entree. The course that mattered. Speaking in eating terms because of the way the man ate her out.

Something about athletes, especially football players, with thick tongues that did not know when to quit. Deiondre had it all, good looks, a body of steel, and a sex drive on overdrive. She was in need of some.

Her hair was freshly done by her favorite stylist before she left town. Manicure and pedicure did so her feet and hands looked good enough to eat off of. Deiondre did like sucking on her toes.

She hated doing her make-up, but she sucked it up and gave her face a light touch, very happy that she did not need a full face beat and still looked good.

She texted him once she was all dressed and looking delectable.

"I'm in your city. Let's link up.

She also texted him the hotel she was staying at, the room number, and that she left a key for him. He could just come right up.

She was not going to wait on him all night, she would relax back and do some work on her laptop and if he was not there soon, maybe she would go out on the town. She knew the hot places in town to meet the ballers.

But it only took thirty minutes and she heard him at the door.

She smiled, closed her laptop ready to get down to business.

Deiondre walked in, all six-three, two hundred twenty pounds of muscle. Brown-skinned, low-haircut, dark brown eyes, and handsome all over. The kind of guy you would snatch up and settle down with because he checked out the boxes.

Rich, check. Good looking, check. Treated her right, check. Liked to spoil her and buy her things, check. Lived the lifestyle she was used to, which was her best aspect.

"You could have warned me you were coming to town, you know I would have had something planned for my girl." He walked over to her and pulled her to him for a kiss. "Mmm, sexy as ever."

"Were you busy?"

"Yeah, but it could wait." He sat on the couch with her. "Always doing work, huh?"

"It's how the rich stay rich."

She started to pull off his shirt, but he stopped her.

"Hey, slow down girl, we're not even going to talk for a little bit? I haven't seen you in like, a month."

"Save the talking for your other girls, you know what it is we do best." She straddled on top of his lap, reaching for his shirt again.

"Come on Yancy, slow down. We just need to chill and talk. I didn't come over here for all that."

She was confused. What did he come over for? Normally that's all they would do, be with each other. The sex was always popping. He was a freaky guy that liked freak things. Hardly a vanilla guy. They rarely talked just went at it.

In fact, she did not know much about him other than that he was twenty-nine, played in the NFL, and lived in Dallas. And he did not like commitment like her, so he never had a girlfriend in the last two years of her knowing him.

They met when she and her girls flew out to watch a game in San Diego and then met him at an after-party. They had sex the first night and from there, she would fly wherever and just hook up. It was the best deal for her.

"What type of shit are you on right now? I'm horny as hell and I need you." She slid her hands up his shirt but he held her arms away.

"Yancy, listen. We...we can't hook up like this anymore."

What was he talking about?

"I proposed to my girlfriend. I'm getting married."

What in the hell was he talking about?

"I'm glad you came down because I wanted to tell you in person. I met her a year ago and we just vibe. I proposed to her last weekend. I was with her now when you texted, but I wanted to tell you this face-to-face. And before it all goes public."

She moved off of him. This had to be a joke. The man that never wanted to settle down with one girl, telling her he wanted to settle down...but not with her, some other chick.

"You're an asshole!" She jumped up from the couch. "You could have sparred me and told my ass in a text. Hell, an email. Or better yet, do not tell me at all. I would see it on the news and say good riddance!"

"Yancy, come on, we can still be friends."

This man had lost all his marbles. She did not want to be friends with him, she wanted some dick. She stomped over to the door and opened it up.

"Get the hell out! Boy, bye."

He stood up but he did not walk toward the door. "Come on Yan, I thought maybe we could be friends still, hang out sometime, and if things don't work out with Carol, maybe you'd still be down for some fun times."

Oh, so now he wanted to keep her around to be a mistress on standby. This fool had her all messed up.

"I swear if you don't walk out of here right now I will scream bloody murder and your name will be all over the headline news tonight."

He walked towards her. "So it's like that? Yancy, I thought you were cool peeps. We had fun together. You never got the chance to know me though, not like Carol."

"Go fuck Carol in the ass, how about that!" she shouted at him. "Now bye!"

She flew all the way to Dallas to get ate out and now she sat all alone.

As rule number twelve said, ashes to ashes, motherfucker.

A/N: Poor Yancy. Now why is she flying around to get a man when she had one right there?

Is she wrong for chasing money and not sticking around to catch feelings? These rules need to be broken ASAP!