Carl Weber's Kingpins by Smooth Silk Page A

up, and just so you know what direction I’m coming from, I don’t have to show interest in the people I fuck. You and I, all we do is fuck. Sex is simply sex. Don’t expect more. I’m not the one to catch feelings over a piece of good-ass pussy. And I hope great dick don’t twist things in yo’ head.”
    My mouth dropped wide open. I guess this muthafucka told me, huh? I mean, stop playing the piano, close all of the windows and doors, and let’s get the fuck out. His ass was too right to the point for me, but at least he was honest. The last thing I wanted him to know was that his words had a big bite. No, let me rephrase that. They stung like hell. But if he thought I was going to be salty about the shit, he had me all fucked up. Like always when I got dissed by niggas, I put on my happy face and kept it moving. I did, however, have to clear something up with this nigga, just in case he thought he’d put me in check.
    â€œBefore I drive off and we go to the movies, let me make one thing you said clear. The term ‘women like you’ could possibly mean you’re referring to my profession, right? Let me just say that you have no idea where I come from, and you don’t know why I must do what I do. Life probably dealt you a shitty hand, just like me, so don’t you dare sit there and attempt to judge me for making tough decisions to better myself. You haven’t a clue how much courage it takes to be a stripper and pretend that every fucking thing around me is all good. I put up with hella shit from niggas, and instead of walking around, like you, with a goddamn frown on my face all day, I bite my tongue and deal with the choices I made. You may not like them, but here’s the truth and only the truth. I don’t give a fuck, and I’ma keep on smiling each and every time niggas like you think it’s okay to belittle me and make me feel as if I’m not good enough. Maybe not for Mr. Bones, but definitely for someone else more deserving.”
    I guess I told him. It was his turn to take the mic. To no surprise, he shrugged and pointed straight-ahead. “The movie theater is that way. Are we going or not?”
    Don’t ask me why I drove to the movies with this nigga, but I did. I kept quiet, though, and didn’t have much else to say. The only time I spoke was when we stood in line, debating what to go see.
    â€œI don’t care what we watch,” he said. “This is yo’ bill, not mine.”
    Since I offered to take him to the movies, I didn’t mind paying. But he could at least pay for the popcorn and sodas. We stood in line to get some, and when the cashier told us the amount, Bones stood with his hands in his pockets. I paid for those items too, but in the end, the money Nate was going to give me would pay for everything. I was now considering executing the plan to put this fool to sleep.
    I chose a boring, stupid-ass movie on purpose. I had hoped that no one else would join us in the theater, but as soon as the previews got started, two white couples came in. Bones and I sat in the far back. Nigga chomped on my popcorn as if he’d bought it. I removed my jacket, sipped from my soda, and scrolled through Facebook to see what was up.
    â€œWhat’s this movie about?” he asked.
    â€œI honestly do not know, but I heard it was good.”
    Bones passed me the popcorn, and then slumped down in his seat. We both had attitudes, and even though I said I wouldn’t let what he’d said get underneath my skin, I did.
    The movie got started, and we hadn’t said two words to each other. I was bored out of my mind, and I kept hearing him release deep sighs. The actors in the movie were horrible, and the comedy they presented was so fucking corny. Maybe I should’ve opted for an action/ comedy movie with Kevin Hart in it. Since I hadn’t, and this movie was so bad, I intended to ask for a refund when we