“For what? I thought you weren’t messing with him like that.” Shane side-eyed her.
“I’m not, my ass just looks fat in them pictures.”
“Girl, you got 50cc of porcelain injected in that bad boy, it’s going to look fat regardless.”
“I hate you,” Tyler snickered. “I don’t have porcelain in my ass nigga.”
“Whatever. I’m just saying.” Shane waved her off.
“Just finish my hair so I can get up. You take thirty hours to do my hair but get everybody else in and out.”
“He does take a long time to do our hair,” Aria agreed.
“First of all, you stiff neck hoes not paying for shit. The wig, the style, or my time. If I want to take ten breaks and a nap, then guess what…I’mma do it.” Shane rolled his neck. “And Ty baby, I take all day on your peanut shaped head because I be trying to contour the unshaped shit. I’m doing you a favor. Matter fact,I’m on break.” He cut the hot comb off and marched into the kitchen.
“He get on my nerves,” Tyler giggled. “Pour me a shot since you in there.”
“I’m not pouring your light skin ass shit, and you better hope I finish your bald ass head.”
“Don’t do me like that, friend.”
“Fuck off,” Shane sang out from the kitchen.
???
Dexter tossed money in the air as he watched the dancer in front of him play with her pussy through the thin thong she wore. The thong was too little and every time she popped her hips, one of her lips slipped out, causing Dexter to tip a little more. As much as he was cashing out on her, she had to know she was coming up off some ass. It had been months since he had some good pussy and his dick needed something with a lil grip.
“She working that fat ma, huh?” Tilly offered, tossing a few dollars in the air.
“That’s what I’m saying.” Dexter showered the dancer with a few ones and fives. “You ready to get out of here?” he asked, leaning a little closer.
“You gone have to come off a lil more than that.”
“Don’t worry...I got it,” he lied. Dexter had already tipped over $200 and he wasn’t giving her shit else. As far as he was concerned, he paid for the pussy upfront. He wasn’t about to give her his last.
Thanks to Amber, Dexter had a lil money to spare. Her money from Oakwood was starting to pour in, and Dexter was thrilled.Amber signed the lease on his new G-wagon, she bought him a new wardrobe and laced his pockets. When she wasn’t performing at small clubs or at the studio, Amber and Dexter were in the club living it up. They popped bottles, bought out sections, and at the end of the night, he took her home and fucked her until she passed out. Dexter and Amber were the ‘it couple,’ and the city was eating it up.
Amber was low maintenance, and for that, Dexter was thankful. All she wanted to do was snap pictures for the Gram, sing, and live her best life. She followed his lead behind the scenes, and she looked at him with stars in her eyes. Amber swore they were having a good time, but she was falling.
Glancing down at his phone, Dexter ignored the call from Bobbi and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Without the thrill of being caught, fucking with Bobbi wasn’t fun anymore. She was trying to turn Dexter into a househusband, but he was a hoe at heart. He didn’t want a family with her, he didn’t want a home with her; hell, Dexter didn’t even see a future with her. They both depended on other people to provide for them, and since they were broke, there wasn’t shit they could do for one another.
“Oh shit!” the DJ yelled into the mic. “Southwest in this bitch!”
Dexter frowned and lifted his head just in time to see Logic, Al, and Duce walking into the building. Unlike the other times Dexter saw him, Logic was shining, and it was evident that he was on the come up. He still wore a cocky ass grin, but this time it was accompanied by a single gold chain that neatly rested on the front of his white polo. The watch on his wrist peekedmodestly from the sleeve of his shirt, and an icy diamond in his ear that made Dexter look away when the light hit it.
“Get these niggas to the VIP section ASAP. I smell money in this muthafucka,” the DJ shouted.
Dexter’s stomach churned with jealousy as he watched the dancers flock to the trio. They were moving through the club like they owned it. The crowd parted as if they were really them niggas. People reached out to give them dap, women smiled in their faces, and the waitress twisted her ass as she led them to the section right across from him. Logic didn’t look their way, but Al and Duce shot Dexter a knowing smirk.
“What are we drinking tonight, fellas?” the waitress asked with her tablet in her hands.
“You.” Duce grinned.
“Try again, I’m not on the menu, lil daddy.” She winked.
“You calling me little because I’m short? I got my height from my mama,” he explained.
“Nigga, this lady don’t give a fuck about your height,” Al groaned. “Pearl made a post this morning and the shit went viral.”
