Another Hood Tale

·Chapter Seven·

EXCUSE THE MISTAKES

"I'm sorry I gotta leave you newbies. But my sugar daddy just walked through the door. Lemme go get this money before the thirsty hoes try to swarm him" Shayla said as she hurried away. She walked over to an older white man with a salt and pepper goatee. He looked like someone who worked on Wall Street by the gray Armani suit he was rocking. His salt and pepper beard along with the gold that laced his wrist you could tell his money was long.

"That's how that hoe got that Benz," Jaz said as she watched her cousin.

"Shit I'm tryna get like her. I need to find me one" Brisha said while scanning the room for a potential candidate.

The club was filled with people from all ages from their early twenties to their fifties. Jaz couldn't deny the butterflies she felt as she watched the girls work, everyone looked so carefree. The way the men drooled over their bodies looked exhilarating and to be honest she couldn't wait to get started. She was ready for something new and exciting.

"B, how do you feel? Are you nervous?" Jaz whispered. She felt as if her stomach was doing summersaults.

"Girl naw. I twerk on live all the damn time for free. Might as well be in here shaking my ass and making money," she said nonchalantly.

Jaz chuckled and shook her head. "I need a shot."

On her way to the bar, she passed the main stage where Onyx was performing. She worked the pole like this was something she was born to do. Her body was like smooth dark chocolate as she slid down the platinum pole. The way she whined around the pole with only one leg hanging on drove the crowd crazy. The money started to rain and it gave Jaz a boost of confidence.

Shorty is killing it. Shit, maybe I shoulda done a line or two. She thought as she watched her end the pole trick in a split. Jaz was so interested in the seductive show that Onyx was putting on that she didn't hear the guy come up behind her.

"I'd rather see you up there," he said, his baritone deep and raspy.

Jaz snapped her head around and made eye contact with a face that God took his time sculpting. It took a moment for her to reply because she was too busy admiring his handsomeness.

"Ah, for real? What you tipping" She asked boldly.

Jaz crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her hip as she waited for his answer. He chuckled and took a sip from his cup. After fumbling in the pockets of his Givenchy jeans he pulled out a fat wad of hundred dollar bills.

"I'm tipping big ma" he replied flashing his million-dollar smile.

The way his grill was shining you would think that they called him Ice. If this was any other situation Jaz wouldn't be interested in the flashiness but seeing that she was here to work she decided to give him a chance.

She looked him up and down and admired his sense of style. He was hood rich from the huge glistening rock that sat in his right earlobe to the newest Jordans that graced his feet.

"What's your name ma?" he asked.

"I'm Ice."

"Alright Ice. How about a private dance." He asked, "Iont really wanna take up your valuable time just standing here chit-chatting."

"Sure. I'm cool with that" she replied and grabbed ahold of his hand.

Jaz led him to one of the private dance rooms. The butterflies that circled in her stomach had her feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush. Before they went inside he handed her two hundred dollars. She took the money and a smile immediately crept over her face.