Page 6

We’re fucked. Two words that I had repeated more in the past week and a half than I had in my entire life. Santari moving in with us wasn’t an ideal situation at all. Especially when we needed her to stay out of the damn way while we found out who killed Rev.

In the time she’d been living with us, I’d grown well acquainted with the fact that she was the reason candle companies stayed in business because she was constantly buying candles and burning them daily.

When she wasn’t lighting up candles, she was doing yoga in the middle of the living room in those tight ass pants and small ass sports bra as if we didn’t have a fully equipped gym in the house.

However, what really had me grinding my teeth together was how there was a perfectly fine shower in her room, but she claimed that the water pressure was better in the one downstairs.

So every fuckin’ day, I had to watch her flutter around the house in a goddamn towel smelling too damn delicious, driving me insane.

I was pretty damn sho’ Storm and Titan were struggling just like I was as my eyes would catch theirs randomly, the fight to remind ourselves that she was off-limits was an on-going war in our house.

Santari wasn’t built for this shit, and Storm, Titan, and I couldn’t move the way we wanted at The Omega House with her putting her stilettos in business that could get her killed.

If anything happened to her, Rev would rise from the dead and murder my ass, then spend our time in hell lecturing me about breaking BB4L code.

When Rev and I were teenagers doing petty crime shit, it was a running tradition when we got away with mess we had no business doin’ that we celebrate by getting drunk and watching Bad Boys with Martin Lawrence and Will Smith before hittin’ up the skating rink when we were too young to get into the strip club.

We used to watch the first Bad Boys when we committed a crime that was nostalgic. But Bad Boys II was our shit since both of us could watch Gabrielle Union on screen all day er’ day.

BB4L—or bad boys for life—really stuck when Rev said Marcus should have shot Mike when he found out that he slept with his little sister, Syd. Not enough to kill him, but to make his ass think twice before getting in her pants again.

I’d laughed off his words, hearing it for the threat that it was, but I knew my friend. Had he caught me doing anything with Santari, I would have hoped that shooting me once was all he did.

I pushed my thoughts to the side as I pulled into the parking lot of Fetish, the chain of nightclubs that I owned in the Miami area.

Club Fetish Miami Beach was a staple for spring breakers and tourists eager to explore the night scene on Ocean Drive.

Club Fetish Wynwood had more of an artistic vibe and got the attention of folks interested in lounging in a speakeasy.

Yet, Club Fetish Havana in the Little Havana neighborhood was currently taking the most of my focus as it was the most recent to open and had forced me to cut through more red tape than all of Florida kept stocked.

Of course I cut though that shit smooth like buttah though.

When I wanted something, I always achieved it.

And to my fifth-grade teacher who said by twenty-one, I’d be dead or in jail, she could kiss my Black ass. I was thirty-four and thriving.

Tonight, though, I was at my Miami Beach location because it was Freaknik night, a nod to the legendary spring break festival in the ATL initially created for HBCU students back in the 80s.

The rooftop of my club was poppin’, as the city was shining bright beneath us, and the pool was glowing from the neon lights underneath, reflecting the movement of the crowd.

Black Greeks were gathered everywhere as fraternities and sororities locked in their steps to the beat of whatever song the DJ played next.

The Jell-O shots were flowin’, the Kool-Aid jungle-juice was a silent killer, and folks had really shown the fuck out for the 80’s theme with their track suits, chunky sneakers, baggy pants, and bodycon dresses.

As I leaned against the glass railing, a slow grin pulled at my lips while my Omega Theta Tau brothers and I joked and talked shit between sets.

The ten of us were all in sync with our printed silk and satin shirts that were a nod to Kid n’ Play in House Party , while our gold chains shone in the light as we moved.

Tonight had that kind of vibe like the whole damn city was ours for the taking. It often felt like that whenever Titan, Storm, and I got together with all these other cats. Nothing was missing … except Rev.

“Damn, I miss my boy,” Lil’ Mike exclaimed, tossing twenty-dollar bills at some of the sorority women as if he was in a damn strip club. “Rev would have loved a night like this.”

“You do know they ain’t strippers, right?” I asked.

Lil’ Mike just shrugged, not giving a damn. He came from that old southern money. When we were in college, he used to be bougie as hell, but we thought he would grow out of that shit when we got to the real world. Apparently not.

“We need to be hollerin’ at some of these hunnies,” Lil Mike exclaimed, looking to Osirus for back up. Back in the day, Osirus had always wing-manned for Lil Mike.

Osirus put up his hands and shook his head. “Nah, fam. You know I’m engaged.”

“Fuck you then,” Lil Mike spat, turning to Titan who was already shaking his head.

“Nah,” Titan said.

“But, Titan, come on. Hel?—”

“Nah,” Titan repeated. “The last time I helped you out, yo’ girl had a friend who purchased a room at my resort, Primal, for one night every week for three months hoping she’d catch me on the property.

All of the staff was on high alert, and I’m too big to be runnin’ through the lobby to hide at my work establishment. ”

Lil Mike couldn’t even argue with him since … well, no one argued with Titan. Nor did anyone think Titan actually hid from ol’ girl. My guy ain’t hide for nobody.

“My boiiii,” Lil Mike exclaimed, dabbing my fist. “Care to help a brotha out?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” I told him, standing straighter.

“For real?” he asked, surprised I agreed.

“Nigga, nah.” I shoved him in his shoulder. “Did you forget that the last chick I met when we were at that hookah lounge robbed me, then had the nerve to show up to my bank and claim she was my wife? That bitch cost me hella money and you ain’t pay me either.”

“For what?” he asked.

“Emotional damage, muthafucka.”

“Man, quick whining,” he huffed, about to turn to Storm next.

“Yo’ Kevin Hart lookin’-ass betta not even glance my way,” Storm stated, sipping his drink.

“I still have nightmares from the last time we went out together. You had that random ass woman trying to sign up for every class I teach when she wasn’t even enrolled in the university. She even snuck in a few times.”

“She wanted to fuck a professor,” Lil Mike argued. “You should be happy I threw that pussy yo’ way.”

Storm frowned. “If I ever get fired, I know you’ll be the reason.”

“A bunch of sensitive assholes out tonight I see.“ Lil Mike clasped his hands together. “Ronan. Bruh. Do you think you can go five minutes without scaring off those women in the corner?”

Ronan nodded in excitement since we never picked him to wing-man for us.

“Yeah, man. I got you on that shit. Don’t worry.

I’m good. I got it. Don’t sweat it. I got yo’ back.

You know it.” Ronan did a little dance. The same one-two step he’d been doing since college.

“I got you, Lil’ Mike. Just tell me what you need. I’m go?—”

“Damn, nigga, just shut the fuck up already,” Lil Mike bellowed. “Why the fuck do you just keep goin’ when you talk?”

Ronan played sports while we were in school and was decent at everything. The problem was he was lame as hell and even a jersey couldn’t give my homeboy game. Any time he got attention, him doin’ what he thought was cool just made it worse.

Damien pushed up from the railing, taking pity on Lil Mike. “I got you, man. Let’s go get you someone to take home tonight.”

Damien was a ladies’ man, and we all knew Lil Mike was sensitive about his height and always felt like he needed backup. I didn’t miss how pissed Ronan looked though.

“Don’t sweat it, Ronan,” I told him. “None of us get females as fast as Damien.”

Ronan tried to shrug it off, but he was butthurt. “I’m good,” he lied. “Even better than good. I’m great. I ain’t wanna talk to any women tonight anyway.”

“Me neither,” Edric said. “I got a date tomorrow, and I’ve been tryin’ to get at this Big Booty Judy for weeks.”

“I got a date, too,” Ronan chimed in. “And her ass is big as hell, too. Maybe it’s the same woman.”

“Doubt it,” Edric said. “She’s a teacher.”

Ronan’s eyes lit up. “My girl is a teacher, too.”

The other guys and I shared a look, trying not to laugh at Ronan, aka Mr. Me Too, since every time one of us said we were dating somebody, suddenly his ass was too.

But even across the rooftop helping Lil Mike, Damien ain’t miss a beat.

He leaned over to the DJ, and a minute later “Mr. Me Too” by Clipse started playin’ on the speakers.

I laughed, prepared to roast the hell out of him, but something made me pause. I felt her before I even turned my head, her energy electric and undeniable, cutting through the noise like a switchblade.

When a path for my vision of her finally cleared, it was like the whole damn rooftop slowed down. Fuck. Why does she always look so good? Drip unmatched. Skin as smooth as silk. Thick curves and a confidence in her walk that had me rethinking all of my priorities.

My tongue slid over my teeth as I exhaled slowly, my eyes locked on her when she spotted me. She was a goddamn problem walking to me like that in her beige bodycon dress.

“Damn,” one of my boys muttered beside me, clasping me on the shoulder. “She yours?”

I let out a low chuckle, watching as the crowd split as she made her way toward us.

“She’s not mine yet,” I muttered, my words making Titan hit me hard in my chest, causing me to groan. “I mean not ever. She will never be mine.”

I inwardly gagged, the word tasting bitter on my tongue.

It was only when Santari reached us that I realized Gina was flanking her side.

“Fellas, this is Gina,” I told them, saving my weakness for last. “And you remember Santari.”

“Rev’s sister,” Titan added, his voiced laced with a warning not to touch.

Edric’s eyes widened. “Shiddddd, Lil’ San San, that can’t be you.”

She laughed as Big Mike took her hand and spun her around. “Dayum. You grew the fuck up forreal.”

The twins, Damien and Draven, were lickin’ their lips at the ladies, already up to their pretty-boy antics.

“Damien, when the hell did you even get back over here?” Storm asked.

“You know me,” he muttered, lifting Santari’s hand and kissing the top of it. “I spotted the most beautiful woman here, so I had to introduce myself.”

When he didn’t let go of Santari’s hand, Titan stepped closer to him, and Damien immediately held up his hands like he got the picture.

“It’s okay, baby,” Gina cooed, stepping up to Damien. “My girl here isn’t dating at the moment, but you can kiss my hand.”

She stuck her manicured fingers in Damien’s face, causing us all to laugh. Smooth as usual, he kissed her hand and winked at her, making her giggle.

We all fell into casual conversation, until “Crush on You” withLil' Kim, Lil' Cease, and Biggie came through the speakers. Unable to help ourselves, the fellas and I got back out onto the floor to stroll, Lil Mike poppin’ in to join us as did some other Omega Theta Tau members who were in attendance.

I was in my element. The problem was, Santari was watching me as if I was an ice cream cone she wanted to lick.

But that wasn’t all I noticed. Whenever her eyes flicked down the line, my gut was telling me she was staring at Storm and Titan just as hard.

She’s givin’ all three of us her fuck-me eyes.

And I couldn’t lie, I liked that shit way too much.

Eventually, Gina pulled her to the side, and they started dancing with each other, careful not to interrupt any stroll lines.

This year had been rough for all of us, but seeing Santari moving and swaying to the beat, completely unaware that she had every man in this bitch watching her like she was the main event, had me hypnotized and my focus locked.

In this moment, it didn’t matter that she was my best friend’s little sister.

Didn’t matter that she was off-limits and untouchable in every way.

How she moved, with her hips slowly rolling and her body catching every beat like she was made to be in the spotlight, had me struggling to remind myself why I needed to look away.

I wasn’t the only one either.

I flicked my eyes to my left, catching both Titan and Storm doing the same thing that I was.

Watching.

Observing.

Lusting.

We were tryin’ to be discreet about it, but yeah, they saw what I saw. They felt it, too. I was more in tune with these muthafuckas than I was anyone else in the world.

We didn’t mind sharing. In fact, we loved that shit. There was nothing betta than seeing a woman come apart as a result of something me and my friends were doing to her. That moan of pleasure. The shiver of satisfaction. A pussy, ass, and mouth so full, she couldn’t see straight.

Santari was perfect for what we enjoyed. Yet, she was the one none of us were supposed to touch. But here we were. Three men feigning interest in whatever our friends were talkin’ shit about, lusting after the same damn woman, as all of us thought the same fuckin’ thing.

Santari had no idea that she’d moved in with three animals who wanted to devour every piece of her in every fucking way possible.