Shu: A Novella (Them Boys Book 3) Read online

  “Curtis! What the hell are you doing in there?” she asked, her voice growing closer.

  “Tryna fuck me!” I informed her.

  “What?! Bring your ass on in my room. You must be planning to pay my cell bill, too, pulling some shit like that,” Sunny said, now standing just outside my room. She didn’t really care and I knew she didn’t. As long as he gave her the money she requested, he could fuck me and every other woman in the city.

  She’d turned the hall light on, I could clearly see that Curtis was in his boxers, and ew. He followed her from my room without uttering another word, and I quickly hopped up and locked my flimsy bedroom door, wondering how I’d forgotten to lock it in the first place. Then I crawled back into bed, wishing I was anywhere but here.

  *****

  “Fucking piece of shit-ass car!” I hissed, as I slapped my steering wheel. I was too tired for this shit. I’d worked all night and needed to get home and at least try to get some damn sleep.

  I turned the key in the ignition of my old-ass Caprice again, listened to it stutter, and dropped my hands, placing my forehead on the steering wheel. I was going to have to take a damn Uber home and hope the administrator didn’t have my car towed before I could get it off the nursing home’s lot.

  I lifted my head and literally screamed when I saw him standing next to my car. I was so startled; I snatched the door open and hopped out of my car. “You scared the shit out of me, Mr.—Shu!”

  “My bad. You having car trouble?” he asked in that soft, even voice.

  “Yeah, it won’t start. You know anything about cars?”

  “No, but my brother does. He owns a shop.”

  “Oh…well, I’m broke. So…”

  “He’ll work with you. Let me call him.”

  “No, by broke I mean…” My voice trailed off as he stepped away from me with his phone. “Broke broke,” I finished to myself. “The fucking brokest.”

  He had an entire conversation with someone, presumably his brother, with his back to me, and although he was only a few feet away from me, I didn’t hear a word.

  Finally, he turned to face me again. “Grab your keys and whatever else you need and come on.”

  “Huh? Where am I going?” I asked, growing more confused by the second.

  “With me.”

  I just stood there and stared at him. I might have had a thing for his strange ass, but I wasn’t going to get in a car with him. Hell no to that shit!

  “We need to take the keys to my brother. He’s gonna have someone tow your car to his shop. After that, I can take you home.”

  “Look, I don’t have car repair money. I’m for real broke. You say your brother will work with me? Well, ain’t shit to work with.”

  “You ain’t gotta pay him.”

  “I don’t?”

  “You don’t. You coming?”

  I stared at him again before blowing out a breath, grabbing my tote bag and keys, and following him to a shiny, new-looking GMC pickup truck.

  “You need help getting in?” he asked, opening the passenger door for me. There was a smile in his eyes.

  I gave him a smirk. “I’m not that short.”

  He shrugged and stepped around to the driver’s side as I climbed in and buckled my seatbelt. The interior of the truck was clean, too. Spotless. And it smelled like marijuana.

  “You smoke? They don’t test y’all at the plant?” I asked, as he pulled off the parking lot.

  “They do when you first get hired. Been there twelve years. Ain’t been tested again yet. You smoke?”

  “Nah, I haven’t smoked in a long time. Been too broke.”

  He nodded.

  We were silent for the rest of the ride to JD’s Auto Repair. I gave him my keys and my phone number and stayed in the truck upon his request while he gave both to his brother, and when he came back, he asked, “You need to stop anywhere else before I take you home?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “You got breakfast at the crib?”

  I didn’t. “Yes.”

  He nodded. “What’s your address, then?”

  “1111 Roundtree Circle.”

  His hand stilled on the gearshift, and he turned to look at me. “Roundtree Circle?”

  “Yeah, you can drop me off up the block if you’re scared of your truck getting stripped or something,” I said with another smirk.

  “Ain’t nobody gonna fuck with me over there. Them niggas know better.”

  “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I just…you live there by yourself?”

  “Is that your business?” I was tired, and therefore, his interrogation was irritating the shit out of me.

  “Nah, it ain’t,” he said, and then drove me home in silence.

  We were parked in front of my house when I sighed, and said, “This is my cousin’s place. I’m renting a room from her until I save enough to get my own place.”

  He just looked at me.

  So I continued, “Sorry for snapping at you earlier, and thank you for the ride. And for getting your brother to fix my car. I really appreciate it.”

  “How you getting to work tonight?” he asked.

  “Um…Uber?”

  “You ain’t too broke to Uber?”

  “Not quite, but I’m not working at the home. I have another gig tonight.”

  “A’ight.” He slid out of his truck and walked around to open the door for me, reaching up and placing his big hands around my waist to help me climb out and onto the pavement.

  And then we just stood there, him dwarfing me as we stared at each other with no words passing between us until he tapped my nose, and asked, “Can I see?”

  I frowned, then reached up and brushed my hand over the band-aid. “Oh!” I peeled it off and rolled it between my index finger and thumb. “It’s nothing special. Just a nose ring.”

  “I like it,” he said, his eyes smiling at me again. If that smile ever reached his lips, I was going to faint.

  “Thank you. Shu, do you like art?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “If you don’t have to work tonight, you should come to this art show I’m working at. It starts at nine. Wait, I might have a flyer in my bag.” I managed to dig a rather wrinkled one out and handed it to him. “It’s fifteen dollars to get in, but it’s worth way more than that. There will be all forms of art, live painting, everything!”

  He actually lifted a corner of his mouth into an almost smile. “I’m off tonight, so I just might come through.”

  “Okay. There’ll be a bar, too.”

  “Cool.”

  “All right, well…thank you again.”

  “No problem, Denver.”

  Shu

  Usually, I’d call and see if I could pick up an extra shift on my off days, but not today. After I dropped Denver off at her place, I went home and actually got a little sleep. Woke up and ate, watched some TV, smoked a blunt, called Jah to check on her car, and around eight-thirty that evening, climbed in my truck and drove to the address on the flyer. The Ęwa Art Gallery was located downtown in a building I remembered used to be a furniture store. I’d probably passed by this place a million times without even glancing at it, and here I was, paying a short dude in skinny jeans fifteen dollars to enter an art show, and what did my ass know about art? Not shit. I just…shit, I liked Denver. I liked her and I wanted to see her, so I came and was willing to do whatever people did at art shows just to be in her presence.

  I half-listened to Skinny Jeans explain the layout, but I did pay attention to where the bar was, quickly making my way over to a table in the entryway that held bottles of wine and beer. Bud Light in hand, I stepped from the “bar” and out to the main gallery. My eyes damn near popped out of my head at the scene before me, and the name of the show—Freedom Art—clicked in my head. The art on the walls was erotic to say the least. I mean, there was a whole section with photos of couples straight fucking—in color. Another set of photos showed men and woman tied up or blindfolded. There was a statue of a naked woman with real-ass titties. By real, I mean they were big and hanging, not sitting up to the sky. It ain’t like I was a virgin or anything like that, but I couldn’t close my mouth as my eyes rounded the room. I was not expecting this shit.

  I moved from the main room to explore the rest of the artwork and to see if I could find Denver. She said she was working the show, and I wondered what that meant. I peeped in a door labeled, “Demonstrations,” and almost slammed it shut after seeing a woman standing in the front of the room sucking on a dildo. What the fuck? I was legit scared to open anymore doors at that point, but when I found one labeled “Live Painting,” I opened it and stepped inside, and that was where I quickly found her. The sight of her made my big ass gasp. She was…naked, and too damn beautiful. Seeing all of her, her body covered in that smooth chocolate skin? That shit took my breath away. There were two people painting her, one spreading gold metallic paint over her chest and the other painting tiny silver lines on her cheeks. A quick glance around the room made me fully realize what they meant by live painting. People were painting live models, painting their bodies. I was so unprepared for this shit, I turned to leave so I could get myself together, because again, what in the fuck?

  “Shu! You came!” Denver squealed.

  Nah, I ain’t came yet.

  I spun around to look at her, and after glancing around the room again, stepped over to the corner she, a table with paint and brushes, and the two artists occupied. “Uh…hey,” I muttered, my eyes on the wall above her head.

  “Hey! Wanna paint me?” she offered.

  I frowned, looked down at her, and couldn’t take my eyes off her dark, hard nipples. “I ain’t no artist.”

  “You don’
t have to be! Anyone can paint the models.”

  “Uh, you already got two people painting you, so…”

  “Oh, we’re done. Go ahead,” a lady said, and then she and the other chick who had painted Denver’s chest gold left me standing there trying to will my dick not to get hard. It didn’t work.

  Denver smiled and grabbed my wrist. “Pick a color, Shu.”

  “A’ight.” I picked the metallic gold, dragged a brush through it, and asked, “Where you want me to put it?”

  “Anywhere you want. Make me a piece of art.”

  Letting my eyes slide over her small, curvy body again, I said, “You already are.”

  She smiled, her eyes soft as she said, “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Let me see your back.”

  She grinned and turned around. Well, that was a mistake, because her ass? Shit! She’d been hiding one hell of a body in those scrubs, had my mouth watering. And she smelled so damn good. I could let her scent fill my nose all day, every day.

  I slid the brush down her spine, then placed little dots on each side of that solid line. “I don’t think you should change your name. I like it,” I told her.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “First time anyone’s ever told me that. Thank you. I like yours, too.”

  “Welcome. You never told me how old you are, Denver,” I said, as I continued to work.

  “Twenty-five. How old are you?” she asked.

  “Forty-one.”

  “Really?! You look much younger.”

  “Yeah.”

  I kept adding dots and lines, actually enjoying what I was doing.

  “I wish I could see what you’re doing back there,” she said, after I’d been painting for a good while.

  “Hold up.” I took my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture, showing it to her.

  Her eyes ballooned. “That’s beautiful, Shu! It looks…tribal. I thought you weren’t an artist.”

  “I’m not. Your skin is…it’s luminous and shit, fucking gorgeous. It’d probably make anything look good.”

  The smile in her eyes shifted to a soft sadness. “Thank you, Shu.”

  “You’re welcome…again. Uh, when is this thing over?”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “You ready to go already?”

  “Nah, I just…you doing anything after this? Wanna go get a drink?”

  She bit her bottom lip and shrugged. “Sure. A drink would be good.”

  With that established, I kept working, painting her back and arms, even her legs, fighting not to lick her booty as I crouched behind her, and then I headed back to the bar with a hard dick, found me a bench in the main gallery, and sat there until the show was over.

  4

  Denver

  “I think I’m dry, but you got a towel or something you can cover the back of this seat with just in case? I don’t wanna get paint on it,” I said as he opened his truck’s passenger door for me, nodding toward my arms and exposed upper back in my tank top. There was barely an inch of me that wasn’t painted.

  “Hold up,” he replied, taking the light jacket he wore off and draping it over the back of the seat. My eyes were glued to his now-exposed muscular arms in his t-shirt.

  “I don’t wanna mess your jacket up either.”

  “I can wash it. Hop in.”

  I nodded, watched as he walked around the front of the truck in jeans that fit his long legs and nice ass so well that I was fighting not to just offer my pussy up to him on a platter, and then climbed inside and fastened my seatbelt.

  “Boy or a girl?” he asked, as he fastened his own seatbelt.

  I frowned. “What?”

  “When you were modeling in there, I saw the scar on your stomach. C-section, right?”

  “Oh…yeah. Girl.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “Yeah. You know what? Being in this truck makes me wanna smoke so baaaad!” I whined.

  “I don’t mind sharing,” he said, as he started the engine.

  “Really? You got a blunt on you?”

  “What makes you think I smoke blunts?”

  I smirked at him, making him chuckle. He chuckled! I’d never even seen him form a whole smile and he chuckled!

  “No, not with me,” he said.

  “At your place?”

  He nodded.

  “Then let’s go to your place.”

  His eyebrows flew up. “Huh?”

  “Let’s go to your place. You got alcohol there? Or we can pick some up on the way and still have that drink, right?”

  I watched him shift his eyes from my face to the windshield. “That ain’t a good idea, Denver.”

  “Why? You got some bodies hidden or something? You a serial killer?”

  “Hell, naw.”

  “A wife? Girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  “It’s that dirty?”

  “No, I…okay, so I wanna fuck you. Right now, and I’m sure you don’t wanna fuck my old ass, so I ain’t with torturing myself by taking you to my house.”

  “Who said I didn’t wanna fuck you?”

  His head snapped back around to face me. “What?”

  “I’d love to fuck you. I really like you, Shu.”

  “Uh…”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Uh, what? Let’s go, nigga, or are you scared of this young pussy?”

  “I ain’t scared of shit.”

  “Then why are we still sitting in this parking lot, Shu?”

  He gave me another one of those almost smiles, and without another word, he pulled out of the gallery’s parking lot.

  His house was small but very neat and clean. The furniture was nice, but one could easily tell there wasn’t a woman living there. It screamed bachelor pad from the leather couch to the sharp-angled coffee table. It smelled of Febreze and weed, and it felt…peaceful, something my current home and all the homes of my past lacked.

  “This is nice,” I said, turning to where Shu still stood by the front door. Then I walked over to a bookshelf and picked up a diploma holder. “You went to Caruso High?”

  “Yeah,” he softly said, his narrow eyes affixed to me.

  “S-h-u, so that’s how you spell it…”

  With a lifted eyebrow, he asked, “What? You thought it was s-h-o-e?”

  I shrugged. “I wasn’t sure. People tend to change name spellings sometimes…Shu Solomon Mitchell. I like it.” My eyes toured the rest of the shelf, stopping at a set of dog tags in a display case. “Army?” I asked, pointing to them.

  He nodded.

  “My dad was in the army, too.”

  “That’s cool…look, you ain’t gotta fuck me, Denver. You don’t owe me that. You can have all the weed you want without fucking me.”

  Turning to face him, I said, “Um, I know that. You’re a good guy. I didn’t think it would be payment for anything. I told you, I want to. I’ve wanted to since the first time I saw you sleeping in that chair in your father’s room.”

  “Why?”

  “Um, you don’t own any mirrors? You’re fine, Shu. Fine as hell.”

  “The way you used to act and look at me, I thought you were scared of me.”

  “I was. Maybe I still am. Maybe you feel dangerous to me, and maybe I like that.”

  “I’m not what you think I am.”

  I frowned. “If you tell me you’re a woman, I’m going to pass the fuck out.”

  He chuckled again. “Nah, I’m definitely a man, but I ain’t necessarily a good one.”

  “You have a past?”

  “Yeah.”

  I shrugged. “So do I.”

  He stared at me and then left the living room, walking deeper into the house, and I just kind of stood there. He was so damn strange and sexy. Really, really sexy.

  He returned about a minute later, holding a lit blunt up to his mouth, taking several puffs. I watched as smoke swirled around his face and inhaled the familiar aroma. With his eyes locked on mine, he handed the blunt to me. Then he slid a finger down my arm, making me want to shiver at his touch.

  “You’re dry. Have a seat,” he offered, and then left the room again.

  I took a long draw from the blunt as I plopped down on his sofa. He returned with two Bud Lights, handing me one. I took a swig from mine and watched as he guzzled his. Then this giant dropped to his knees and began pulling at the waist of my long skirt. So he wasn’t playing, huh? Instinctively, I lifted my butt to help him, was prepared to do the same so he could remove my panties, but instead, he grabbed my hips, pulling my ass to the edge of the couch, and slid the seat of my panties out of his way, sliding a finger inside me as I moaned into the beer which I quickly finished, dropping the bottle on the couch next to me.