Satan's Angel || BWHM

8

Space. All she needed was space. So she did her job and came home, her actual job that she slacked a bit off of. She worked in a typical scene, a factory. Due to cuts she hadn't been there much but since they were doing better, she worked ten hour shifts from six in the morning to four in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesday's, and Fridays. Getting home from work, she greeted, Huncho who was on her porch, smiling and waiting. "Hey niece. Mind if I come and speak?" She smiled, hugging him, "C'mon in unc."

After preparing lunch, which was only grilled cheese and fries, she sat in front of Huncho who put it simply, "Sonny and Lucho have been real slick wit each other lately." She snorted a little, as Huncho let out the slightest laugh continuing. "The other day,  Ruthless and Lucho were having words, and Sonny was in the room. They weren't quiet. Ruthless asked why Lucho was constantly over here and he just gave a slick smile, said 'She want me der, why?' Ruthless laughed, they eyes went to Sonny." She let a fond smile surface. "You like that nigga don't you?" She nodded. "I meant Sonny." She froze, "You straight trippin'." Huncho chuckled. "Well... I had to put him in check for hitting you. Expect him over here in the next hour. If he not, Im putting one in his forehead." Huncho alerted, getting up to leave.

Panic. She needed space, not seeing the nigga. And there he stood at her door, looking oh so irresistible. He looked roughed up, but that was Huncho's doing. "Can I come in?" He asked in a rough voice. She stood to the side, a gun tucked in the back of her shorts. "Listen wifey. I ain't mean to hit you." She simply stared, "But meant to call me a hoe." He sighed. "I meant what I said smartass. I do feel some typa way bout you. You different." She rolled her eyes. He tried to step closer, her hand reaching for the iron she had tucked away, "Come closer and I swear you gon look into the eyes of God next." He stopped in his tracks, slowly nodded, once again he underestimated her. "If it was really bout fuckin' I woulda been hit. You been here for six months. So that tell you I'm deadass." That familiar flutter her heart did made her spirit shift. "You pulled a glock on me. That shit did somethin' to me... seein' the girl I'm feelin' pull that shit on me." She sighed, putting the gun on her end table. For some reason, she believed him. If it was a lie, it was beautiful.

He slowly walked towards her, "Whats goin' wit you and my homie, dog? Be a hunnid." She decided to give him a little of the bone, "We chill a lot. That's my best friend... been there from the jump. Doin' the shit you should've been." And it registered in his head that they liked each other. If she being honest, they like each other but ain't doing nothing. He felt like he had to actually make moves wit her, finally placing a lust and passion filled kiss on her lips. She melted, she was putty in his hands for those moments, soft as cloud lips encasing hers again. Soft moans escaped from the brushing of his tongue against hers. His hands fell to her waist, deepening the kiss. Air didn't exist, for that moment, they were each other's air supply. He pulled away, them both panting. "What I gotta do to make dis work wit you wifey?" Her anger was gone, her heart was skipping several beats. "I'll let you know ugly." He laughed. "Baby girl." His hands try to pull her as close to his body as possible, mouths tangling again. Was it fireworks? Or was it simply that he was a great kisser. Dazzling a smile her way, he walked out the door, "I'll clear my night if you clear yours." She bit her lip, Lucho was supposed to come over, but maybe he could come over next time. Sonny hadn't ever cleared his schedule for her. Sonny was satan. He knew Lucho was coming over that night. "Okay. But I do have work in the morning." She told, reaching for her phone to call Lucho.

"Super Soaker. Wassup?" His voice was smooth like butter. "Hey Lucho. I gotta cancel tonight." She sighed. "Aight I guess. Lemme know when Sonny leave." And the line went dead.

She waited, and when the clock struck ten, Sonny was at her door. Excitement coursed through her veins. She opened the door and he had the smuggest look on his face, pink lips twitched upwards, dark hair pulled back. "Hey wifey." She panted, lips wet from her tongue. "Hey." She moves and let him come in, him pinning her to wall after closing and locking the door. "You not gettin' any partna. Don't even go there." Sonny laughed at her, tossing her over his shoulder before slamming her on her bed. She let out a joyful laugh, a bright smile on her face as it met with his eyes. It was his turn to become awestruck. Her happiness did something to him, it made him lean down, lips pressed tenderly to each other. The slow kiss caused a moan to erupt, his hips rocked against hers slowly, making her legs wrap around him. "Fuck. Don't stop." She moaned. "So you want it?" He asked her. "No. Just keep doin' this." So he did, lips attacked her neck, nails scraped his back. "Sonny." She moaned, her ended up busting a nut by dry humping. "When I get in dem walls." He let out a breath, her getting up. "I gotta shower." She told, watching her remove her now ruined panties and shirt.

Coming back, he was watching tv, his eyes falling on hers. "Dry off and come here." He told. "Butt ass naked?" She asked with a laugh. "Yeah mami." She shook her head, "You still in hot water." She appointed, getting dressed. She climbed in bed with him, legs on either side of his waist. "I wanna make it up to ya. We can get a room dis weekend on some private shit." She shook her head. "Last time I went somewhere alone wit yo ugly ass, you left me. Baby steps nigga. It's gon take a while." She reminded. He was annoyed, the dog house was no fun, especially when her body was covered in a thin shirt and thin shorts. "Fine. But get off me. Makin' shit hard for me." She smiled, leaning to kiss him. "Aw. That's cute. I'm gon make you suffer." Sonny had a look of seductive, teeth playing with his lip, as she lowered herself and wrapped her lips around him. He was a mess, an utter mess, and as soon as he was gonna nut, she pulled back, "Ditch, hit, or call me a bitch again."

Was he mad? Yes. But did he blame her? No.