Page 52 of Dope Boys: Most Wanted
“Hey, Money,” Tonya crooned as he walked past. He said nothing, causing her to scoff. “Nigga got new pussy and can’t even acknowledge all of this. She don’t even talk for real.”
Reign heard her. She heard everything Toyna, Jania, and Tim had been whispering since Nia left and the news was out. The whispering didn’t bother her, the assumptions that she’d slept with him to get this, did.
The moment he spun her chair around, Reign stood and walked away from him. Leaving him there with all the eyes on him to chase her. Chasing her was becoming his favorite thing to do. On her trail, he pulled her into the office and closed the door.
“I’ve been calling you all day,” he stated, peering down at her.
Reign peering back at him. The bronze in her eyes flashing like embers. “Markus, you don’t own me. I’m not going to stop what I’m doing to answer, or text or whatever. If the cost of all this is you thinking I should every time you walk in, pop up, call, text… find somebody else to do it. I’m not doing this shit with you or nobody.”
The more she fussed, the further he slipped into being entranced by her. Women didn’t push back when it came to him. They went for whatever he said. They hung on to his every word. They didn’t make him chase them. They didn’t see him.
Reign continued fussing, taking the bracelet off of her wrist, and the rings off her fingers. “I’m not your charity case. I’m not some bitch who popped up and needed you, Emilliano.”
The emphasis on his middle name stroked the flame he was trying to keep at bay. When Reign looked up at him to remove her earrings, she frowned finding his smile.
“What the fuck is so funny, Markus?” she gritted, tossing the jewelry at him. “I’m not playing with you. I’m dead ass serious.”
In her fussing, she didn’t notice him backing her into the wall. When her back met the wall, she pushed him back gently. “Move.”
“What you call me?” he questioned, everything else she said had fallen on deaf ears.
“Markus, move.”
“What did you call me?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her face away from him. He boxed her in, body pressed against hers again. “I need to get ready to close up the salon. I need you to move.”
He used his pointer finger to turn her face back toward him. The way she looked up at him exposed all the layers of the things she was battling and more than anything, he wanted to pull them back, layer by weighted layer and see her the way she saw him.
“What’d you call me?” he asked, his lips brushing over hers with each word.
Her breath caught in her throat. The scent of him coaxing an answer out of her, finally. “Emilliano.”
His lips smirked against hers before he pressed them against her soft, pillowy lips. Slowly, sensually, with longing and enough vigor to snatch the remainder of her breath away. She had him out of his element. The signature scent she wore, the teetering between refusal and need, the strength she held all making a mad man out of him. And despite it all, he didn’t mind.
Lips smacking, hands gripping knits and her pin curls be damned, Markus kissed her like he’d been waiting all his life for this moment. It wasn’t until Reign moaned that it ended. For her, pleasure was never allowed. Pleasure was Pandora’s box. Pleasure meant pain. In a jolt, she pushed him away.
“I can’t,” she softly panted. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this with you. It’s bad enough they think I fucked you for this spot. I-”
Her voice broke.
“Tell me.”
She looked up at him, tears dancing at the brim of her eyes. “No. I need some air.”
Markus was planted in his spot but Reign found enough space to move around him and out of the office. She quickened her heeled feet to the back door and into the evening air. Markus stood there for a moment, allowing his body to regulate.
He roamed out of the office and to the salon floor where the last client of the evening was walking out. “Lock up.”
“I didn’t know we were having a team meeting,” Tim spoke, locking the door like Markus told him to .
Tonya sounded off, making his shoulders square. “Little Miss Reign must’ve cried to him.”
“Pack your shit up,” Markus said firmly turning to her. “From day one, when we opened these salons, we told y’all that gossiping shit was out of the window. And it’s on me. I let Neveah bring her ass in here and run amuck. Y’all been getting away with bullshit far too long.”
“Told you they were fuckin’,” Jania muttered.
“You can pack your shit too. You and your little hoe ass friend can find another salon in another part of the city. What I’m doing or not doing don’t have a muhfuckin’ thing to do with y’all. The rules is the fuckin’ rules. Get y’all shit and get the fuck out.”
