C H A P T E R•f o u r

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♥Shiloh "Shy" Brown♥

It's been 3 good months since that whole 'family reunion'. I swear I ain't never seen Sims so happy. I haven't seen Aijah none at all, not that I'm complaining but, all I know is that Aijah is working cause she don't want to seem like she intruding on Sims money. Aye! I wouldn't be complaining the way Sims is. Remo and Deedrah in mourning, their baby pasted away. It was either the baby or Dee die, if they ain't make up they mind fast enough then both would've been gone. But I believe they made the right decision. They can always make more, Remo & Dee shouldn't be mad at that, they one horny ass couple.

"Aye! Brah!" My boy Kenan took me out my thoughts.

"What nigga?" I kind of snapped on him.

"We hungry, bout to go to Roscoe's" I haven't been there in a minute. I wouldn't mind getting a lap dance and some chicken it's a ghetto facility, what can you do? Get a lap dance and some chicken, all a black man really needs in his life. We all hopped in Sims all black Tahoe. We pulled up and it was filled with life. I mean this shit used to be straight up death. Nobody came here, no the shit look like Everybody and they MaMa's here.

"Aye! what's going on Nigga, why the hell is it so packed?" I asked and they laughed. I looked at them with a death glare. The laughter stopped. I chuckled and walked in. Them girls looked pretty much the same. It was the same. The bouncer, bounced her ass all the way to the table we always sit at. I was unfazed by it. I sat down and the boys got all comfortable and shit. I sat back and a screen came down. I couldn't see the figure in front of me but she must've been sexy if all the guys was acting a fucking fool

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen. . ." the crowd went crazy just by the voice, my boy Kenan was jumping and acting a fool more than a monkey would. I pulled his ass down to the seat. And he sulked.

"My body, is your party. . . Baby. . . Nobody's invited but you, Baby. . ." I heard and I had to find the owner of this voice. The screen lifted and I saw two beautiful legs leading to a nice firm ass, she was wearing decent clothes, but damn I imagined her butt naked. She had just that much power in her voice. She flipped her hair and the music changed up now it was an intro for Beyoncé-Dance For You. Girls ran out in skimpy outfits. They were looking for guys for her to dance on while she took off her trench coat revealing her in something I can see Beyoncé wearing. I licked my lips and one of them girls chose me. I was happier than a fat nigga in Golden Corral. I sat in the middle chair. she was straddling me, but she wasn't even looking at me. She shook her right thigh signaling to me that she wanted my legs open. She spun around and was kind of bended over. I rubbed her ass and the feeling her body had a nigga getting hard, thank God she moved to the back of chair. I felt a cold puff of air on my neck. Then the music stopped and the brightness level increased. What the fuck?

"Aye man she's a blessed baby." Kenan said. Hell yeah she is and she damn sure is gonna be mine tonight.

"I want her." I said simply.

"So do I. But, she won't ever call a nigga." Kenan said, frowning.

"Nigga you ain't the only one. She danced on a nigga, touched her once and she ain't wanna ever look at a nigga again." One of Kenan boys said. She ain't give them no play cause they ain't me.

"Ladies & Gentlemen, the performer that has been doing my wallet justice-" she laughed and so did the crowd, I just wanna see my future one night stand. On the real, I don't see her as nothing more, if she good in bed. She might just might become my new 'Booty Call' shit everybody got a booty call.

"Miss. Class A!!" The announcer yelled into the microphone. Scared the shit out of some nigga behind me. I saw her perfect silhouette. I'm gonna have fun tonight. I took a sip of my scotch and baby girl was gone. The fuck? I got up and saw she dropped something, I quickly picked it up. See God is working in my favor. I smiled at the sight of . . .Car keys. I walked out and saw her panicking.

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