He held my hand the short walk to his old school Monte where he opened the car door for me. Something Vellz had never done. Only reason he opened it tonight had to be because I was buzzing hard as hell and he didn’t want me to fall on my ass. After he got in, we took the short ride to the other side of the complex where I stayed. He talked the whole way there, talking about Meech and how he wanted to reach out but didn’t know how I would take it. He had a guilty conscious. The crazy part about him not calling was that I didn’t expect a call from him. I hadn’t sat up thinking like oh, Vellz fake as hell for not checking up on me after my brother died. I didn’t think of him at all. So, the apologies and the guilty conscious meant nothing to me. Vellz could have saved that shit.
When we pulled up to the building, we got out and headed up. As I stood at the door unlocking it, he went to talking about Meech again. Joking this time, reminiscing about the times I snuck him in when Meech was gone. Years ago, when I was too damn young to be having a boy over. I didn’t laugh. I didn’t respond. I just opened the door. I hadn’t said a damn word toVellz since the party, but he just kept going and going. I wanted him to shut the fuck up about Demetrius.
After Vellz closed and locked the door behind us, I turned the light on. He turned around and said, “You been cool? How you holding up, Rei? For real?”
Instead of answering him, I threw my arms around his neck, stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. He didn’t really care about how I was holding up. He was being polite, trying to be considerate because that guilty conscious was eating him up.
His kiss was unrushed and hesitant. He was caught off guard, but it didn’t take him long at all to match my energy. His hands found my waist again, as he parted my lips with his tart tongue. I went for the waistband of his designer jeans, undoing his fake Hermes belt. Once it was undone, I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, immediately pulling them down.
“Damn bae. You hungry for daddy dick. You missed this mafucka, didn’t you?”
I didn’t say anything. Just helped him get my tank over my head.
“Tell me you miss this dick,” he pressed.
I gripped his thick, hard dick and bit down on my bottom lip. “Shut up,” I said before kissing him again.
Vellz backed me up against the wall behind us and deepened the kiss. Aggressively, he went for my pants. I leaned my head back against the wall as he attacked my neck with his lips, steady undoing my pants, his hard dick poking at me.
When he got my bottoms off, he picked me up and instantly slid my pussy down over his dick.
“Ahh,” I cooed, once his dick hit the bottom of my pussy. Vellz was merciless in the way he handled my pussy. He dug deep in my pussy, his short nails digging into my ass cheeks.
“Damn I missed this good ass pussy. Why you keep this pussy from me? Hm?” Vellz grunted into my ear.
I didn’t say anything. Closed my eyes and tried to escape reality instead. Vellz felt good He always felt good. He was my one and only sex partner. He knew my pussy very well. Knew exactly how I liked to be fucked. Knew when I needed it slow and steady. Knew when I needed to be fucked like a slut too. Hair pulling. Biting. Smacking. He just knew. Tonight was no different. He might not have been in between my legs in almost two years, but you’d never be able to tell by the way he handled me. I wanted to be fucked like a slut and that’s exactly what he gave me. Slammed me up and down on his dick, handling me like a rag doll. One with the best pussy he’d ever been in.
“Fuck is that? The police? Rei,”said Vellz, nudging me in the side.
I grunted and pushed him. “Stop.”
He shoved me again, forcing me to open my eyes. I sucked my teeth at the sight of him standing at the bed, leaning over me. “Sereia. Somebody bangin on the fuckin’ door. Get up. Probably five. E said this bitch been flooded with them boys since Meech, askin’ questions and shit. Get up, bro.”
I sighed and propped myself up on my elbow. I scratched at my hair and rolled my eyes, realizing I didn’t put my bonnet on before I laid down last night. As if wearing a bonnet would have mattered. Vellz fucked my shit up. Things got rough last night, and he got to yanking on my shit. I let him like a dumb ass. Dick was too good to stop him. Zariah had done a really good job on my hair too. Fuck.
“You think it’s the police? They gon’ try to walk through this bitch ain’t they? Fuck! Ay, where can I put this at?” He asked, showing me his gun. “You still got that box under the bed? Theyprobably gon search this bitch. Damn I should have left last night bro.”
“Chevelle. Shut the fuck up,” I groggily said, sitting on side of the bed.
The knocking on the door started again. And with dipped brows, I looked toward the door, confused. Maybe it was the police. They had been to the apartment a couple of times, asking questions, trying to get clarity about Meech and what he was involved with. I didn’t understand the point. What the fuck were they investigating when he was dead? I didn’t have shit for them and always hit them with the same line when asked if I had any information about the other two men he was with. Didn’t know them. What my brother did when he left the house was his business. I didn’t know what he was into. Simple.
“Shut the fuck up?” Vellz repeated, with a frown. “You know how many bodies on this bitch?”
I looked up at him, with a frown as to say I didn’t give a fuck. Instead of speaking my mind, I pushed up from the bed, lifted one of the floorboards and pointed inside, where a stack of folded papers sat. He glanced from me back at it with raised brows, probably wondering what it was. I placed my hand on my hip. “What? Nigga you want to hide your gun—hide it.”
He shook his head, sat the gun inside and started to pace. “Ay, don’t tell them I’m in here.”
I looked over my shoulder at him, sliding my fluffy robe over my naked body. “If they have a warrant to walk around, what Itellthem won’t matter.”
Waking up to Chevelle in my face made me sick to my stomach. What the fuck had I gotten into last night? I was tripping for sure, inviting this nigga over. I couldn’t blame it on the weed or the pill. I blamed it on grief.
I yelled, “Who is it?” before standing on my tip toes to check the peephole.
When I did, I stepped back from the door with pinched brows. What the fuck did he want? Exodus. Of course, he didn’t answer when I asked who it was. He just stood there, eyes on the peephole, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, with that infamous deep furrow in his thick brows.
He was alone. No Leviticus. No Zeke. Just him.
I wondered if he’d heard about the police snooping around too.
