Page 23 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
Not my type, but damn sure every niggas type.
“I’m good. Thanks. Who are you, and why are you at my table?”
Even though I’d startled her, I could see that she was checking a nigga out just as I was checking her out. The front of her dress was a V-cut, showing enough cleavage so that I could pinpoint her cup size. She was about a 34B, but still, they were good and perky. Whatever shimmery shit she’d used on her back, she used it on her front as well, and in the crest of her breast, there was a long, gold chain dangling. On the table besideher silverware was a Louis Vuitton handbag that went well with her look, but a Chanel would have been more fitting.
She needs a fucking Chanel.
Here I was saying what she needed as if I’d bought one before for anyone outside of my sister. Them shits were like ten bands, and at the moment, I only had ten of ten bands, so I had to fucking cool it with the imaginary tricking.
In ten seconds, I had every feature on her pretty-ass face memorized. Her nose was on the larger side, but it went well with her facial structure. Her eyes were spaced apart like Halle Bailey’s, but again, that shit gave her a unique look. Her lips were plump and lined in brown with nude coloring in the center, and I imagined them wrapped around my dick with that shit smeared all over her stunning face. She looked like she needed to be on a fucking island getting some tan on her light-ass skin, and her look of the night matched the tropic aesthetic, and the way her hair was styled added to her attire. Yet, we were in the middle of a restaurant in Jagoda Bay.
I’d noticed that the women here didn’t play around with their appearance. In the month I’d been here, I’d seen women of all shapes, sizes, and nationalities and hadn’t come across a lemon yet. Of course, I only looked briefly because I wasn’t on that, but damn, Jagoda Bay had to be heaven for niggas. Being from Memphis and then moving to the A, I wasn’t new to bad bitches, but damn, Jagoda Bay was different, and so far, miss lady was leading the fucking pack.
She had a beauty mark near the outer corner of her left eye and a birthmark on the same side near her chin. Both were the kind she would’ve had to work around not to cover because whenever Tuscany did her makeup routine, all her markings and moles disappeared. I wasn’t the type of nigga that hated makeup—I actually loved that shit. Anything that enhanced a woman and made them even more beautiful, I was down for. But thenagain, I was biased because I’d grown up with a sister and had sat on FaceTime way too many times while Tuscanybeat her face, even in adulthood.
“Excuse me? Could you leave?” Her mouth was saying for me to get the fuck out of her face, but the way her taut nipples were poking through the thin fabric of her dress said another.
Slouching in my chair, I licked my lips. “Nah.”
The frown on her pretty face deepened, and even under her heavy makeup, I could see her cheeks redden. She was flushed, and I was happy to see it. With the way she had my dick fighting for his motherfucking life in my jeans, she ought to feel something.
Her eyes scanned the restaurant. She was looking for security, the manager, a waitress, hell, a patron would do if they could get me away from this table. But that shit would be in vain. Wasn’t a soul in the restaurant that could go toe to toe with me, and I didn’t need the heat tucked in my pants to prove that point. I was like that and dared a nigga to try me.
“No?”
Leaning back further in my seat, I eased my arm slightly over the backrest, making myself comfortable, and looked into her dark eyes. I wouldn’t repeat myself, but she’d understood the message by the way I relaxed into the chair.
“I have a date that’s showing up soon.”
Holding my phone up, I displayed the time since my wrist was bare. Thinking about my watches I’d left at the crib back in the M before I got locked up, I started to cuss. Instead, I looked at the fine ass in front of me. “That nigga shouldn’t be showin’ up at all if he’s ten minutes late, and if he did, you should make him pay you for your wasted time and get the fuck outta dodge, my baby.”
“Your baby?”
I nodded.
A chuckle escaped her lips. Her eyes roamed as far as she could see, and mine did the same. A comfortable silence blanketed us even though the restaurant was buzzing with quiet conversations and a live singer playing the piano somewhere in the distance. Her pink tongue swept over her lips, and she used her hand to toss her long-ass braids over her shoulder. “He sent you, didn’t he?”
“He did.”
“Fuuuuuck!” she silently cursed. When her hand pounded the table in a mini-crashout, I was no more good. She all but groaned, continuing her tantrum. “Ohmyfuckinggod! I’m never getting in the circle.”
“The circle?”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I said he wasn’t doing enough, and then as soon as I put all that aside to see where this went, he sends his fucking store runner.”
I sat up so fast in my seat, my back popped as I interjected, “Hold up now, my baby. The store runner?”
She glared at me as if I were the one who had offended her. When her glare didn’t faze or illicit a response from me, she answered, “The flunkie, store runner, do boy… whatever it is they call your type these days. That’s no disrespect to you because, I’m sure you don’t give a damn what the loser bitch that got stood up thinks. I’m just… I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Holding my hands up, I sat back in my seat. “None taken, my baby.”
She began rubbing her temples as her elbows rested on top of the white-clothed table. She was doing that thing again, where she quietly cursed to herself, and it took everything in me not to laugh. Although she’d put a title on me that I’ve never worn and never would, I didn’t want to add insult to injury by embarrassing her and laughing in her face.
After a few minutes, she stopped rubbing her temples with her milky-white manicured, oval-shaped nails, which had an assortment of gold rings decorating her fingers, and sighed. When I saw her gather her bag, I sat back up.
“I’m so sorry about this. Again, I meant no offense. I just thought that I would?—”
“Be gettin’ in the circle?” I threw her words back at her.
