Thug Lovin' (6 page)

“Bobbi, just take a message like any other normal secretary would do. We have a publicist. Several. Give them Courtney’s number.
Is Kaylin in yet?” Angel snapped as she held
The New York Times
tightly under her arms.

“He was here when I got here, Mrs. Santos. He’s been on the phone all morning.”

Angel stormed off in search of Kaylin. His door was open, his back was turned and the phone was glued to his ear. Angel slammed
the door, causing him to turn around. She tossed the article in front of him. “Hang up the phone, Kaylin.”

His smile turned into a frown.

“Now, Kaylin.” While she was in Colorado on a business trip, she had been calling Kaylin repeatedly since she heard about
Papi Chulo’s and his mother’s deaths. Kaylin had refused to talk to her over the phone. He continued his conversation as he
watched her pace back and forth. He knew she was pissed because he wouldn’t talk to her. He knew that all she wanted to do
was grill him. He ended the call and stood up.

“I’m glad to see you too. How was your trip?”

“Kaylin, don’t even try it. If you would have answered your phone you would have known.” She picked up the newspaper and tossed
the article on Papi and his mother at him. He caught it and placed the newspaper on his desk. Papi had taken his mother on
a cruise and they had both been found murdered.

“Red, I found out about this the other night. You know I wasn’t going to discuss this with you over the phone, so I don’t
know why you trippin’.” Kaylin turned up the music in his office because he knew what was coming next. He walked over to her
and Angel started crying.

“You know I liked him, Kaylin.”

“So did I, Red. He was our number one moneymaker.”

“Why did they do this? We should have never sent them on the cruise,” Angel bawled.

“Baby, it’s not our fault,” Kaylin assured her.

She looked into his eyes to see if it was true or not. What she saw made her stomach clench. She pushed him away and went
into her office.

*  *  *

California here and now…

Trae and Tasha were sitting in the family room. The twins were now almost three years old and Caliph was going on one. Caliph
was in his playpen and the twins were playing with their toys. Trae was filling Tasha in on Stephon’s pitch for the nightclub.
He could sense that Tasha wasn’t quite sold.

“The bottom line,” he continued, “is that I can clean up a nice amount of this cash we sittin’ on. The longer we have it sittin’
around the more uncomfortable I’m getting. You understand what I’m saying?”

“Of course I understand. But do you understand what I’m saying? Matter of fact, are you even listening to what
I’m
saying?”

“What are you saying, Tasha?”

“Why does it have to be a club? Nightclubs are very risky. There are so many other business ventures that you could use to
clean up some money.”

“Yes, but a business venture with your peoples that I can control, baby. This opportunity just fell into my lap. And to make
it even sweeter, he has a board of directors that are made up of the most powerful people in California. I won’t have to explain
to them where the money came from. It’s like I’m doing business with the connect’s connect. Plus, it’s
our
club. When we go out we will be going to
our
club.”

“I don’t know.” She was shaking her head.

“You don’t know what?”

“By no means am I insecure, but a club? I don’t know about these West Coast hoes having access to my husband,” Tasha said,
clearly not feeling this nightclub thing.

“Oh, so now we’re getting to what this is really about.”

“Trae, be for real. I’m looking at the future. You know you will be swimming in bitches. Bitches mean drama. We both know
this.”

“Tasha, this is business.”

“Nigga, you must have forgot who you talkin’ to. Y’all niggas say that same shit when y’all out there hustlin’.
This is business.
It’s always business, but business and bitches don’t mix. Look, I’m done talking about it because obviously your mind is
already made up.”

“So, you don’t want me to invest in the club?”

“Baby, I’ve said all that I’m going to say. You’ve already made up your mind. I’m with you. Just don’t let me have to act
a fool out here in Hollywood.”

“Uh-oh. This just in: Tasha threatens to get ghetto,” Trae joked.

“Ha, ha, ha, nigga. I got your joke, Chris Tucker.” Tasha rolled her eyes at him. “For real, keep playing if you want to.
You can mark my words, it’s gonna be some shit. Just be sure to remember what I’m telling you. A club guarantees drama. And
Trae, I promise you, I am not the one to be putting up with the bullshit. Watch what I tell you.”

Trae was out taking the Navigator for a ride on the LA streets. He had several cars: the Benz, the BMW, the ole skool and
the Denali. But the Nav was by far his favorite. He had just gotten it detailed and wanted to show it off. Riding in the Nav
brought back lots of memories. This was his hustle ride. Trae opened up the sunroof, allowing the noonday sun to warm his
bald head. He turned the CD player on and lit a blunt. Jadakiss came on telling everybody to “fuck the frail shit.” Trae smiled
but the moment was instantly lost as the flashing lights were right behind him.
Shit.
Trae put the blunt out and pulled over.

The dark blue Chrysler with the tinted windows pulled up behind him. Trae called Tasha and told her he had just been pulled
over and the Nav smelled like weed. He then told her to call Benny, his attorney, if she didn’t hear from him in thirty minutes.
Trae watched as the driver-side door of the Chrysler came open. A brown-skinned brother with long dreads stepped out wearing
plain clothes and talking animatedly on his cell phone.
What the fuck?
Trae thought as he rolled his window down.

As the officer continued to talk he was admiring the Navigator. He finally hung up and said, “I had a silver Nav just like
this. Same year and everything. Muthafuckas stole it and chopped it up. You know your left brake light is out?”

“Naw, man. I didn’t. It’s been sitting in the garage for over a month. I had to take it out today,” Trae told him, wondering
if he was going to say anything about the weed.

“How she running?”

Trae smiled. “Like she been sittin’ for months.”

The detective started laughing. “Aiight, man. Get your light fixed.” He turned and headed back for his car leaving Trae wondering,
What the fuck was that really about?

I
t was a little after three in the morning. Trae and Tasha were just getting into the house. They had been out with Stephon,
Marvin and Kyra scouting out the hottest clubs, those they would be competing against.

As Trae fumbled with the lock, Tasha was standing behind him, kissing him on his neck and squeezing his dick. As soon as he
opened the door she began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

“You know you were the finest thing out there tonight, right?” he said as he looked at her over his shoulder.

“You told me that already. You gonna give me some dick or continue to tell me what I already know?”

“I’ma do both, smartass,” he told her as he yanked her dress up over her ass and lifted her up. He slammed her back up against
the wall as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Ohhhhh, I like it rough, big daddy,” she teased him as she slid down onto his dick. They both released subtle and seductive
moans.

Her pussy was hot and juicy. “Oh, you ready for Daddy, huh?”

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist tighter. “All night long I was ready to fuck,” she whispered
into his ear. “You were the finest nigga out there tonight. And this big fat dick is all mine.”

“Is it?” He pounded deeper into her pussy.

“Yes, oh sssss, right there, baby. Oh… my… right there, baby. Fuck this pussy,” she moaned.

“Whose pussy is this, Tasha?”

“You know it’s yours.” She clenched her teeth together and threw her head back as he pounded away.

“Is it?”

“Baby, yes… oh God, my spot. My spot, nigga,” she gritted.

Trae felt her legs trembling. “Whose pussy is this?” He began pounding harder into her G-spot. Every time he hit it, he wanted
to smash it. “Whose pussy is this?” He smacked her ass.

“Yours, babeee. Ohhhh, I love you so much,” she squealed as her orgasm erupted. Her body was still trembling and her legs
were weak as he slowly eased her down. “Turn around.” Trae guided her around and bent her over. She was still spent and was
moving in slow motion. He spread her legs and began hitting it from the back. He wanted to watch his dick slide in and out
of her pussy but it was feeling too good. All he could do was close his eyes, grab on to her hips and get in as deep as he
could. After four more strokes of being in that gushy gushy, his knees buckled and Tasha was makin’ the pussy do what it do,
clamping the muscles down and around his dick and he was no longer in control as he shot a heavy load up into her. Now it
was his turn to be spent as he rested all his weight on her.

“Nigga, you better get your heavy ass off of me,” she giggled. He leaned harder onto her back. “Trae, stop playing. What?
You trying to tell me that you want me to give you a piggyback ride? That’s too freaky for me.” He pulled her up slowly, smashing
her into the wall, and began sloppily kissing her cheek. “I love you too. Now let’s go and check on our babies and quit slobbing
on my cheek.”

Trae slid her dress down over her ass and she bent down and pulled his pants up. They shared several more passionate kisses
before they headed upstairs to the twins’ bedroom.

Aunt Marva startled them both as she met them at the top of the stairwell.

“Yo, Auntie, I was about to pull out my piece and start blasting,” Trae teased.

She ignored his comment. “Those little boogers have been up all night. They just went to sleep and Concita left, right before
y’all came in. Don’t go in there messing with them babies and wake them up,” she warned. “I don’t know why y’all had to hire
a nanny. That’s what I’m here for. I’m going to bed, so don’t call me, I’ll call you and good night.” Then she stopped and
turned around. “Why won’t y’all use your bedroom? The last time I checked, that’s what it’s for. Y’all making all that damn
noise in the hallway. Voices do carry around here,” she snapped. “And I hope you wrapped that thang up because at the rate
you going, her body will never get a rest. Baby after baby. It don’t make no damn sense.”

“Yeah, that’s how I like her, pregnant and barefoot. I told y’all I need my own team.” Trae laughed.

Tasha yanked on Trae’s arm. “C’mon on, Coach.” She was ready to fuck some more.

“Good night, Auntie.” It was Trae’s turn to ignore her. He grabbed Tasha and pulled her along with him.

“Are you sure there is only one of her?” said Tasha. “She is all over this house. Remember I told you she was spooky? What’s
up with the praying over the boys? And blessing the house every damn fifteen minutes?”

“Tasha, stop trippin’. Everybody is spooky to you. Auntie is spooky, the last nanny was spooky. Concita, the new one, is spooky.”

“Now you’re exaggerating. I didn’t say that.”

“Yes you did.”

“I did not. I like Concita. We can’t have any ole body up in our house, watching our children.”

Trae turned on the hall light and went into the boys’ huge bedroom. Caliph had a crib that turned into a bed and a playpen.
There were three toy chests, three dressers for each of them and two closets. Tasha had outdone herself creating a serene
suite for her babies, who were growing faster than she liked. Every detail she had overseen with the help of one of LA’s most
famous interior decorators, A. J. Deville. The sea-blue color scheme drew you in to the stars and open sky that were painted
on their walls with the boys’ names detailed throughout the sky. With every baby gadget and toy spread throughout the room
you would have thought it was a small day care.

All three of them were sound asleep. Trae watched proudly as Tasha felt Caliph’s diaper, kissed them all and adjusted their
blankets.

Breaking the silence, Trae said, “C’mon, let’s take a shower together.”

T
rae and Tasha had established a routine. The week was for the children. Saturday was Tasha’s day, when Trae catered to her
and she decided what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go. As the head of the household, Trae made sure everybody got
attention and everyone stayed happy.

But Sunday? That was the king’s day. It was all about Trae. He would hang out with his boys and do him. Most of the time it
would be about business. If he felt like it, he would just kick back with the remote in his hand and just chill out and of
course enjoy his favorite pastime of getting his knob slobbed. He loved Sundays. Tasha loved them too. She would cater to
him and be at his beck and call. She would feed him breakfast in bed, lunch and dinner if he wanted it.

This particular Sunday the twins were having fun in their play area. Trae was puffing on a blunt while channel surfing and
Tasha had just finished up his pedicure and was giving him a foot massage.

“Baby, I’m thinking about getting ready,” Tasha told him.

“Ready for what?” He looked down at his queen, the love of his life. She definitely completed him and was everything he wanted
in a wife and soul mate. She confirmed all the time that merking Nikayah had been necessary and well worth the risk it had
posed at the time.

“To open my physical therapy office.”

Okay
, Trae thought. He definitely hadn’t seen this coming. He was sure the twins had taken her mind completely off opening her
own practice.
Why the fuck is she trying to work?
He knew plenty of professionals who had private practices who wished they could stay home and do whatever they wanted.

“Trae, I know you heard me.”

“What brought this on? Aren’t you busy enough?”