Sister's Revenge: Action Adventure Assassin Pulp Thriller Book #1 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Assassin) by Lori Jean Grace, S. Jay Jackson Page A

gets home tonight.”
    Nikky rolled her eyes. “You’ve been with that no-count jerk for two years and he never takes you anywhere. And he never has any money; you always pay for everything. All he wants is to get some of that vajayjay when he’s in the mood. Screw that. We’re going clubbing with Michelle tonight.”
    “You’re right.” Deja gave a firm nod. “I don’t know why I put up with him. I never let any guy give me shit before. We’re taking Michelle out for a good time tonight!”
    Nikky smiled. “Good girl. Go pack up your stuff and come with me to my crib. How about you?” She turned to Michelle. “Can you meet us at my place with your stuff? We can all get ready there.”
    “Sure. I’ll order some takeout and pick it up on the way.”
    Later that evening and with an explosion of girl stuff strewn in every room and across every surface, Nikky’s apartment looked like a teenage pajama party gone awry.
    “Look at you, girl,” Deja said to Michelle. “You are fly tonight. That dress shows your butt and legs real good, but . . .” She moved her hand back and forth in front of Michelle’s chest, exaggerating her move with a whole-body sashay. “You need some more padding in that bra. How do you ever get a man looking like fried eggs on top?”
    Michelle looked down at her chest—or lack of it, rather—and laughed. “Shee-it . . . it’s never been a problem. Men may love to look at tits, but it’s a quality pussy they need. Let me tell you, I’ve got some serious quality where it counts. Any idiot who says something bad about my girls will find his sorry self talking to his hand. My vajayjay is golden, and a man who wants some has got to respect what he’s getting.”
    At one point, Michelle had seriously considered getting a boob job in Bangkok, but later, in training, she discovered large tits could be a big problem. They drew attention—always. Especially when you didn’t want it. On a more practical note, they were a huge disadvantage when standing on a tiny ledge on the outside of a building. One woman had her tits reduced from a DD to a B cup after almost falling when her chest had pushed her back away from her balance point.
    Michelle quick-checked her backside in the full-length mirror propped up against the wall in Nikky’s living room. “The men will be begging for a piece of this.” She licked the tip of her finger and touched her butt cheek with a hiss. “Smokin’!”
    “We’re all hot tonight,” Deja agreed, “and not a minute too early. It’s almost ten, and time to get this show on the road.”
    After a short drive and a couple valet tickets, the three women danced their way up to the front doors of the Savvy.
    “Listen to those sounds, bumping big time,” Nikky said. “We’re turning this joint out tonight. The Savvy’s a ‘real’ club,” she told Michelle. “It’s in the hood, the music’s always bumping, and it has a good dance floor. Those Hollywood clubs are where the phony, wannabe players hang, always fronting like they’re somebody. Fact is, they’re either broke-ass or a fake thug living off their women. Some of them act like they’re the shit but have no heart. I’ve got no feeling for those jive-ass fakes.”
    “You got that right,” Deja said. “I used to hook up with this guy I met over in Hollywood. He acted like he was the big baller shot-caller. Turned out he worked at some warehouse, driving one of them fork trucks. Doesn’t matter what a guy really does, so long as he doesn’t try to act like a big-time thug he’s not. Worse, that guy screwed like a sissy.” Deja raised her voice like a little girl’s. “‘Baby,’” she mimicked, “‘you so fine, but I gotta get up early in the morning. I’m too tired to lay the pipe tonight.’ Fucking momma’s boy.”
    “Well, we’re here to party our butts off,” Michelle said. “If we meet some fine men, that’ll be good. If not, their loss. All three of us got some