Too grown for that . . .
Tamia, “Too Grown for That”
Sparkles of light from the disco ball danced across Gray’s face as she did a slow wind to the beat. She was in the center of the dance floor at 1108, which was the hottest new hip-hop, R&B, and reggae club St. Louis had ever seen. There were three different levels accompanied by three different DJs. Exposed brick decorated the walls, while vintage furniture and black and white art adorned the room. The atmosphere was very spacious and rustic, but there was still a sensual appeal to it.
On the first floor, Enoch spun “I Love Them Girls” by Tank, causing every female in the spot to take to the dance floor. From left to right, everybody was droppin’ it like it was hot, but none outshone Gray.
Unlike every other woman, she had something to prove. The harder the bass thumped, the more she grooved. Dressed in the skimpiest outfit she owned, Gray sauntered over to Truth and slithered her backside like a worm down his chest. She knew she was wrong for teasing him, but the intense look of desire which lay deep in his eyes told her to continue. Every dip, twirl, and pop of the hip drove him insane. The way she torqued it only made Truth want her more. Besides, he deserved to be tortured. It was supposed to be a girls’ night out. Nobody invited him to come; yet and still, he insisted on tagging along.
And Kema, Gray could kick her ass too. They weren’t even in the club five minutes before she spotted some nigga she knew and got lost. At first Gray didn’t mind being left alone with Truth. They always had fun when they went out; that was until Truth got amnesia and morphed from her best friend to an insecure boyfriend. Gray couldn’t turn left without him being up in her face. All night he’d been following her around the club like a lost dog, saying “let me get a dance” or “can I buy you a drink?”
Truth was straight up on some bug-a-boo shit. When she went to powder her nose, he stood outside the ladies’ bathroom door. If a dude tried to holla, he’d flip and try to hold her hand. At one point, Gray thought she’d lost him, but when she turned around, lo and behold, who was standing behind her? Truth. Gray didn’t know what to do. She wanted to pull her hair out. Truth was always very overprotective, but damn, could a chick breathe?
Why he was all up in her personal space, suffocating her lungs, she didn’t know. He knew they weren’t together, and by the way he was acting, they would never be. If he didn’t enjoy the music and let her breathe soon, Gray was sure to grab her shit and leave. She was too grown to be babysitting some grown man’s ego.
As they danced, Gray wished to the love gods up above that somehow Truth could magically transform into Gunz, but her wish didn’t come true. Gunz was still nowhere to be found, and Truth was still wreaking havoc, making her night miserable.
“Okay, I need a drink,” Gray panted as she stopped dancing and placed her hand on his chest.
“I got you. What you want?”
“A Cosmopolitan, please.”
“A’ight, I’ll be right back. Don’t go nowhere.”
“I won’t.” She faked a smile.
As soon as Truth was out of sight, Gray made her way to the other side of the club in hopes of finding Kema. On the second level of the club, Gunz and his crew stood posted up like kings. They’d ordered bottles of Ace of Spades, Moët, and Dom Pérignon. Don Lino cigars were being passed around, while women of all different persuasions exchanged “fuck faces.”
Bobbing his head to the beat, Gunz puffed on a blunt and zoned out as “The Infamous” by Mobb Deep traveled through space and into his ears. He loved living the lifestyle of the young, black, and rich. Any and everything he ever wanted was at his disposal. Money was piling in by the boatload. Everybody in his crew was eating good and living lavishly. This was the life. Gunz couldn’t imagine living any other way. No matter how many times he thought about it or how hard he tried, Gunz just couldn’t leave the game alone.
It needed him as much as he needed it. One couldn’t exist without the other. They were each other’s addictions. His presence in the streets was a must. No other hustler was getting it like he was. In the last three years, Gunz’s net worth had grown to be well over fifty million dollars, and it was all because of the devil’s drug of choice, cocaine. Only in America could a young black man from the hood be so rich and never have graduated high school or did something legit.
And yes, at times, being at the top felt lonely. Most of the dudes he came up with were either dead, on some jealously shit, or sworn enemies. His mother stayed in fear for his demise and constantly prayed for his safety. Gunz hated to see his mother in such a predicament, but without sacrifice, there was no gain. All of the blood, sweat, and tears he’d shed were well worth it in his eyes. He had a mansion on the outskirts of St. Louis that he’d only slept in once. He’d drunk the finest wine, shopped in the most exclusive stores, traveled the world, and fucked the baddest bitches. Still, at the end of the day, he didn’t trust or have anyone but himself.
After finishing off the last of his blunt, Gunz told his boys that he’d holla and was up. With a pair of brown Tom Ford shades shielding his eyes, Gunz glided his way down the steps, where he ran into his man King. There weren’t too many people besides Watts and Bishop that Gunz knew had his back, but King was one of them.
At the ripe age of thirty-five, with skin that resembled fresh coffee and a muscular body covered with tattoos that any woman would want to caress, King Lewis was that dude. Long dreads filled his head, while a smooth but trimmed and precisely lined beard decorated his face. Just like Gunz, King stayed dipped in the latest fashions, but unlike Gunz, King knew that there was more to life than clothes and expensive cars.
For years Gunz had tried to persuade King into his way of life, but King wasn’t having it. King wanted nothing more than to build a family, own a couple of clubs, and stack his chips. As far as he was concerned, Gunz could have the dope game; he’d conquer the nightlife.
“My man.” Gunz smiled brightly as the two men gave each other a pound and a hug.
“What’s up? I was just about to come up and holla at you. Where you heading?”
“Shit, I was just about to burn out.”
“Man please, go ahead with all that” King teased.
“C’mon now, you know I’m gettin’ old.”
“Old? Nigga, I’m the one gettin’ old. Yo’ ass only thirty.”
“But it feel like I’m forty.” Gunz laughed. “On the real, though, you doing your thing with this club, man. This muthafucka hot.”
“That’s what’s up. You know, I’m tryin’ to do me. Tryin’ to get this muthafucka poppin’, but, uh, let me walk you out. I ain’t tryin’ to hold you up our nothing. I know you a busy man and all,” King joked, wrapping his arm around Gunz’s shoulder.
“Man, please. Get the fuck outta here.” Gunz chuckled, pushing him away.
“But for real, holla at me. I got a chocolate party coming up soon, and you know it’s gon’ be mad chicks up in here.”
“Right,” Gunz said, halfway listening. He had just spotted Gray out of the corner of his eye. Although her back was turned, Gunz knew that ass anywhere. He thought about just walking away as if he hadn’t seen her, but the way her body looked in the dress she wore told his dick to think otherwise. Gray’s physique was dangerous. It had more dips and curves than a little bit. Gunz knew that he should back away now before one of them got hurt, but since childhood, he’d loved playing with fire.
“A’ight then.” He stopped King in mid-sentence. “I’ma holla at you.”
Making his way through the crowded room, Gunz approached Gray’s backside. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaned down, and placed a soft kiss on her exposed shoulder. A smile instantly formed on Gray’s face. Gunz didn’t have to say a word. She knew his scent anywhere. For days she’d dreamt of it.
“We gotta stop meeting like this, ma,” he whispered, lightly biting the side of her neck.
“Who said we were meeting?” Gray pulled away from his embrace and turned around.
“Yo, what I tell you about pullin’ away from me?” He took her hand. “Stop doing me like that.”
“Are you serious? Gunz, please. I haven’t heard from your ass in over a week.”
“I know that.” He pulled her back into his embrace. “Quit trippin’ off old shit.”
“Old shit?” Gray cocked her neck back.
“I’m just sayin’ everything ain’t as it seems.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t worry about it. You coming home wit’ me tonight?”
“No.”
“Why not?” He gazed deep into her eyes.
“ ’Cause.” Gray looked away, feeling overwhelmed.
“I’m right here.” He turned her face back toward him. “Why you lookin’ over there? Now, why you ain’t coming home wit’ me?”
“ ’Cause I’m not fuckin’ wit’ you like that, that’s why.”
“Well, guess what? I’m still fuckin’ wit’ you, so fuck all that bullshit you talkin’.”
“Gunz, please.”
“Gunz, please my ass. I’m coming over tonight.”
“No, you’re not!” Gray laughed, trying to convince herself.
“Yeah, a’ight. C’mon, ma, quit bullshittin’. I miss you.”
Everything in Gray at that moment wanted to say kick rocks because she knew Gunz was full of shit, but the way words dripped like sweet honey from his lips had her hormones entangled. She couldn’t explain it. Her mind was saying walk away, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate and move. For some reason, she wanted to give him the best of her. She had to have him, no matter the cost.
“So what you gon’ do if I let you come over my house?”
“I’ma put it on yo’ ass if you giving it up.”
“Well, I’m not, so I guess you ain’t coming over,” she countered.
“That’s what your mouth say, but we’ll see.”
“I bet we will.”
“Be quiet.” Gunz gently kissed her lips.
His hands were roaming all over Gray’s butt and thighs. She was voluptuous and thick in all the right places. All Gunz could think about was laying her down and pinning her legs back. He needed to hear her moan, so he backed her up into a dark corner, took his hand, and placed it underneath her dress. So what if someone saw? For days he’d been missing home, and as the tips of his fingers caressed the hardness of her clit, he knew that home was right where he wanted to be.
“What are you doing?” Gray asked, becoming nervous.
“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?” He rotated harder.
In a matter of seconds, the lips of Gray’s pussy were covered in cream. She knew that there was a possibility that someone could be watching, but it was a risk she was willing to take. The sensation building between her legs was too strong to deny.
“And you ain’t got no panties on. That’s what’s up.”
“Yeah,” she spoke between moans of pleasure. “I did that just for you.”
Gray’s entire body was on fire. She wanted nothing more than to ride Gunz’s fingers until cum exploded onto his hand, but they were in public, so instead, she came to her senses and told him to stop.
“Nah, you don’t want me to stop.” His voice was low and raspy. “Do you?”
“No, but we need to, ’cause in a minute I’ma cum.”
“But I thought you wanted me to taste it.”
“I do,” she moaned.
“So why you want me stop?” he asked with an intense look of desire in his eye. With each stroke, he could feel the folds of her pussy melting.
“I don’t.” Gray’s voiced cracked.
“You sure?” Gunz kissed her lips intensely as he dipped his long fingers into her wet slit.
Unable to respond, Gray placed her head onto his chest so no one could see the agony written on her face. The more Gunz explored the depth of her pussy, the more she wanted to bite his skin and scream out his name.
“Don’t make me ask you again.” He pulled his fingers out and smeared sticky cream onto her clit. “You want me to stop?”
“Gunz . . .”
“You can call my name later. Right now I’m asking you a question.” He stroked faster.
“Baby.” She gripped his back.
“You cumming?”
“Yes,” Gray panted as her thighs began to shake.
“So I guess you didn’t want me to stop.” He gave her his infamous crooked grin and removed his hand from underneath her dress.
“You know you wrong for that, right?”
“You liked it.”
“I know I did.”
“What’s going on over here?” Kema interrupted with a drink in her hand. Gray could tell she was already tipsy.
“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for your ass all night,” she responded.
“Girl, you know me. I can’t be standing around. I gots to enjoy the party, and anyway, excuse your rudeness. Hi, how you doing? I’m Kema.”
“My bad. Gunz, this is Kema. Kema, this is Gunz,” Gray spoke.
“What’s up? So y’all partying tonight, huh?” he asked, with Gray still wrapped up in his arms.
“And you know it.” Kema danced while taking a sip of her drink. “And who is your pot’nah over there?”
“Who?” Gunz looked over his shoulder.
“Ol’ boy over there with the dreads.” She pointed.
“How you know we cool?”
“’Cause I just saw y’all on the steps talkin’.”
“Oh, that’s my man King.”
“Well, tell King Kema said what’s up.”
“I got you. You done partying for the night?” Gunz turned his attention back to Gray.
“Yeah.”
“Good, ’cause I’m ready to go.”
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll catch up with you later.” Gray air-kissed Kema good-bye.
“Right, and just remember, don’t get nothing on you,” Kema teased.
“You are a mess.”
“And make sure he tell ol’ boy I said what’s up.”
“I will.”
Gray and Gunz weren’t even out the door a good five minutes before Truth reemerged with his and Gray’s drinks.
“Where Gray at?” he asked with a concerned look on his face.
“She just left,” Kema answered, downing the drink in her hand.
“Who she leave with?”
“Some nigga name Gat. I don’t know. Don’t get me to lying.” She took the extra drink from Truth’s hand and gulped it down as well.
“You don’t know? So you just let her leave the club with somebody she barely knows?”
“Shit, she looked like she knew him to me. Calm ya ol’ extra nervous ass down.”
“Fuck you, Kema. You be on some bullshit, man.” Truth shook his head as he retrieved his cell phone. “I’m up,” he declared while dialing Gray’s number.
“How you just gon’ leave me? I rode wit’ you,” Kema yelled.
“Well, bring yo’ ass on then!”
Nervous jitters fought for space in the pit of Gray’s stomach as she approached the door to her house. The palms of her hands felt like clay. She could feel Gunz’s presence from behind, wanting and needing her. She wanted him as much as he needed her, but it was late, and they’d already played with the idea of him being there when she woke up in the morning. There was no way that she could make the same impulse decision twice, but visions of him caressing and licking her skin filled her mind.
Face to face, exchanging breaths, she studied his face. Just the sight of him caused the tingle in her clit to twitch. It took everything in her not to wrap her legs around his waist and ride his dick right there in the hallway. He could have her at any moment or any given time, and he knew it.
Gunz saw the fear in her eyes. His mouth tried to form the words and tell her not to be afraid, but that would be a lie. It was best she feared him. A nigga like him was no good. He was the worst kind of man to deal with. In the end, he would only break her heart. They both knew this; yet and still, here they were, bathing in the wonder of what should come next. Is this like or lust? Gunz questioned himself as his lips sought refuge in her silky skin. Gray had an undeniable effect on him.
The sexual attraction he had for her clouded his better judgment. Kissing her good night and heading to his car was what he should have been doing, but being in the midst of her company compelled him to stay. His tongue wanted to tour the hidden areas of her flesh no other man had dared to find. This shit is crazy, he thought as his thumb massaged her cheek.
“Gunz, what is it that you really want?” Gray inhaled deeply. “’Cause I’m not used to guys like you coming into my life and staying.”
“To be honest,”—he pressed his forehead against hers—“I don’t know what it is I want to do with you yet.”
“Well, until you figure it out, I think it’s best you go home.”
Disappointed with her request, Gunz inhaled deeply and replied, “A’ight.”
Before something happened that might change his mind, he quickly brushed his lips against Gray’s. Then he left without saying another word, leaving her speechless.
For a minute, Gray stood with her back pressed against the door, trying to digest the night’s events. Incapable of doing so, she turned around and placed her key into the lock and entered her loft. High off her encounter with Gunz, she grabbed the stereo remote and allowed Jill Scott’s euphoric voice to serenade her ears. Alone with only Jill’s words to keep her company, Gray envisioned Gunz’s warm mouth torturing her skin with kisses as she peeled off her clothes one layer at a time.
She wanted him there. Since he wasn’t, she went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and got in. Beads of hot water slithered down her breasts and between her thighs, while thoughts of Gunz and the time they’d just shared ran across her mind. After lathering her body with Victoria’s Secret Very Sexy shower gel, Gray grabbed her towel and dried off.
Once her body was coated with lotion, she placed on a black Juicy tank top trimmed in white, with a pair of matching boy shorts, then turned off the stereo.
Back in her bedroom, Gray lay sideways on her ivory chaise lounge, gazing out of the window. Silence overtook her as she sat all alone, harboring feelings for Gunz. And although he’d just left, she yearned to hear his voice.
Gray’s wish came true when suddenly, her phone began to ring.
“Hello,” she answered on the first ring.
“What you doing?”
A smile instantly erupted onto Gray’s face.
“Just laying around. What are you still doing up?”
“You know I don’t sleep.” He spoke softly into the phone.
“That’s right. I forgot. We’re going to have to work on that.”
“So what you got going on tomorrow?”
“Nothing much. I’ll probably go over one of my friend’s houses. What are you going to do?”
“Me and my pot’nahs going hooppin’ in the morning, then after that it’s back to business as usual.” Gunz thought about the large shipment of cocaine he had coming in.
“If I have time, I wanna come see you, if that’s a’ight.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” she replied, enthused.
That night, Gray and Gunz talked for hours under the cloud-covered moon. They discussed everything that a man and woman would when trying to get to know one another, like what their favorite colors were, likes, dislikes, hopes, and dreams. Talking to one another was so easy. The conversation was never forced or dull. Words spilled from their mouths like running water.
Gray clung to Gunz’s every word. His voice captivated her. It was deep and full of bass. She didn’t know it, but her voice also put a spell on him. For the first time in years, Gunz felt at ease. He didn’t know if it was Gray’s personality or the sincerity in the way she talked; whichever one it was, he liked it. Neither of them knew it then, but that night would be the first of many late night phone calls.
The next morning, Gray awoke with the sun beaming in her face. The cordless phone was stuck to her ear. It was evident by the silence coming through the receiver that she’d fallen asleep on the phone. Lifting herself up, she checked the clock and saw that it was 9:00 in the morning.
“Wow. I wonder how long I was asleep,” Gray spoke out loud as she hung up the phone.
Twisting her torso from side to side, she popped her back and stretched before pulling the covers back to get into bed. Gray had just placed her right knee onto the mattress when the phone began to ring. Who in the hell was this, calling her at nine o’clock in the morning, she thought. Gray didn’t play when it came to her sleep. Her family and friends knew not to call her until at least eleven.
“Hello?” She answered with an attitude.
“Gray!” Truth stressed her name.
“What?”
“Why haven’t you been answering your phone? I’ve been trying to call you all night.” His voice quivered.
“I fell asleep on the phone. What’s wrong wit’ you?”
“I found Rich.”
“Where was he at this time?” she asked, getting underneath the covers.
“In the trunk of his car. . . . He’s dead!”