Sweet Like Chocolate

Twenty-Six

Morton

"You a damn fool..." I stood outside of his hotel room 45B, fifth floor. It was after I had t power walked through security at the lobby like I owned the damned place, the security was a bald, fat niggah named Peter Witts. He tried his hardest not to look down at my hourglass hips fitting perfectly in my custom made denims. It was after I found out I came running here thinking it was a fake ass family emergency.
Lonzo had that swagger to him the way he leaned casually on his door with a rello sitting between his pink lips. Probably a Pineapple Game. "A fool just needed a way to see you... Using Lay as an excuse would be pathetic, don't you think?" He said. He had a point. Using Layla as an excuse would be the equivalent to a baby mother using her child as leeway for hair and nails money from real men. It's a really sad deal.
But I felt some type of way about coming up here ready to beat a bitches ass while he's chilling up against his door like ain't shit is happening. He used to do that shit back when we was dating. It was making me so mad the moment when he told me he just had called me around the way to his back in the day house just to see my pretty ol face. Like really niggah. But I was under the damn impression the him and his parents were burning alive from an iron laying on his father's shirt, yet he was healthy and fine. Defined jaw line fine. And guess what? My young and dumbass, would look into his eyes shining in the sun light, smell his Gucci body oil he copped off the street, peep his V line that ran down into his shorts...

I'd just forget the life-threatening emergency even happened and leaped into his arms and fucked the shit out of him that day. How old was I? Maybe like sixteen in March of '96. That boy had my boots knocking and my hormones running fuck wild. He gave the all down dick down special for me. I'm talking about curled toes and slow orgasms. He'd make sure I wasn't feeling my legs any time soon when we was done. He worked to please. I'm talking sticking his thick fingers in my pussy, asking me if I liked it and afterwards licking it all off his fingers. Lonzo was the perfect sex machine for a woman who just wanted catering... Especially by a caramel brother with great teeth. I swear too damn goodness that boy made me wet. I touched my kitty for the first time thinking about him one night. Only fifteen damn years old not knowing how those things functioned.

I tilted my head. "What is it, Lonzo?"

"Come in with me and we'll discuss it."

"What the fuck, I-"

"Just come on in. It's chilly out here. Please."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. He knew what that meant. My stubborn ass wasn't going anywhere. "I'll talk to you over the phone, Lonzo." I turned around and was about to walk back around the hallway. Until I felt a gentle grip around my waist. "I mean no harm, Nicole. I just want to talk about some very important things." I pulled away. I swung round to face him and asked, "what important things does anything have to do between me and you that doesn't involve Layla, Alonzo?"

"Um, me and you?"

"Hell no. Why?" It looked like my words stung him on the spot.eKinda like the time we argued over him possibly leaving to North Carolina for college. I was so hurt and bothered at the thought of Lonzo leaving my side back then. He tried to reassure me, telling me it would bring money to the table. Legal money. But there was nothing legal about Lonzo back then. He stole from corner stores and crackheads to sports attire stores if he was feeling lucky, smoked cigarettes, sold and bought guns to guys who needed it for the low, and at one point, sold cocaine for his cousin Spoon. And Spoon was a bitch! She never fucked with me for some reason. She said one time that her and I weren't cut from the same cloth. I worried too much about the trouble that he could get into in North Carolina. From the whores and gangbangers to the college parties and final exam week stress, there was no way for me to monitor his crazy lifestyle from in Atlanta. I tried to convince him to get an apartment with me while he went to school there. "That's doing too much, boo," he said that day. "I need you to hold it down at base ground. Besides, they don't let freshmen live off campus."