Tiffany and Dior: Love in Las Vegas Streets (12 page)

      It reminded me of the old days when we used to chill and ride around the city in his 2001 Honda Civic. It was his father’s car and when he died Rasheed gave it to him. The only reason he gave it to him was because he had a BMW and Dior kept stealing cars so he had no choice but to give him a car. Dior loved that car so much, but this Maserati was definitely an upgrade.

     I loved the way a new car smelled. Ever since that night at the club I was hanging with Dior as much as I could behind Black’s back. It wasn’t like Black was fucking me anyway. Lately Black had been so busy with handling business in the streets and in the club he hadn’t been too concerned about me.

   I still had a curfew but after some convincing he let me hang out until two in the morning. I was cool with that because he never asked about my whereabouts or complained.

      In fact, he started letting me come and go as I pleased. However, he would have Foreman or one of his drivers drop me off and pick me up from places like I was a little kid and he refused to let me drive any of his cars. Outside in our parking lot Black owned several cars. Sitting pretty in all white was a Rolls Royce, a Bentley, a Mercedes-Benz, a Maybach, and a Porsche coupe. You would think with all those damn cars, I would at least own one.

     Nope, Black never let me drive any of his cars. He wouldn’t even buy me a car because he preferred to have a driver drive me around instead. The only time he agreed to drive me around was to keep tabs on me when he got suspicious. 

      On a rare occasion, Black would let me drive his Porsche but only when he had to drive into Henderson. At times he would let me drive with him when he went all the way to Phoenix, Arizona. That’s how I became so good at driving.

     Every first of the month, Black would drive seven hours just to pick up a duffle bag filled with money his dope boys collected from the previous month. Black thought I was young and naïve and didn’t know nothing about the street life but my mother gave me the blueprint.

      At first I wasn’t aware that Black was in the drug game because he never stood on the corner or sat around in warehouses or trap houses. Because my mother was a trap queen my ears stayed glued to the streets. I knew all of the trap queens and kings. That’s because Black was like a ghost in the streets. No one knew who Black was if they were to stand next to him and that’s how he kept it. He supplied drugs in Las Vegas and Henderson and then covered it up with his exclusive nightclub.

    “Ayo, baby girl, you know I love you, right?” Dior said as he leaned over to kiss me.

“So, after a few weeks you love me now?” I asked, knowing that it was true but I wanted to hear him say it again.

“I love you Tiffany Nicole and one day I am going to marry you. I have been hustling in the streets and I met this connect from Miami and things about to be good…really good, ma. I promise I’ma get you out of your predicament. I’m going to make sure you never have to want or need for nothing.” He smiled as he leaned over, giving me a peck on my cheek.

“I love you too, Dior.” I gave him a passionate kiss. Deep down I knew he was going to come through for me and Mason but I knew Black would never let me leave him. 

     Dior leaned back in his seat with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand feeling up my dress. Once he reached my honey, he slid my thong to the side. Immediately his touch took my mind off of my situation. I was soaking wet and moaning from him sliding his index and middle fingers into my pussy. I placed my right hand on the door handle. Dior was a beast with his fingers. He was fingering my pussy so good it felt like a dick. I started grinding my pussy on his fingers. I was getting ready to cream all over his fingers when he pulled them out to taste them.

“What you do that for?” I spat. I was getting ready to cream all over his fingers until he pulled away, leaving my pussy throbbing and wet. I was sure I stained his leather seats. 

“Ma, that pussy tight and wet. We about to go to a hotel That pussy needs to cum on my dick, not my fingers,” Dior spat.

“A’ight. Say no more,” I said, straightening myself in the chair. Migos’ mix tape blasted through the speakers as I inhaled that good weed into my lungs.

       Before I knew it we were pulling into Trump International Hotel on Fashion Show Drive. He powered off the car and then got out, walking over to my side of the car. I made sure to take my time getting out of the car so he could see me.

    After Dior paid the clerk, we got our room key and jetted behind the elevator doors. Once he slid that key inside of the door, I was no longer Black’s woman. There I was naked in front of Dior who was sitting on the edge of the bed. He placed his gold chain around my neck as he kissed and sucked on my nipples.

     He stood up and got behind me, kissing on my neck and down my back. Each kiss made my pussy throb with wetness. I let out a silent moan when I felt him lift me off of the floor.

       We stared into each other’s eyes while our tongues did all the talking. In that moment it felt like our souls connected and we became one. Dior tossed me on the bed, getting on top of me and kissing me passionately this time. His body was so strong and his thick manhood was pressed against my thigh. I knew what I was doing was wrong but Dior was right; I wasn’t married to Black and I wasn’t happy. I wanted to be free like a butterfly, I thought to myself as I opened my legs wider, inviting him inside. 

      Dior needed me and it wasn’t the liquor talking. Shit, we both had been through so much, you need to vent whether it is through drugs, alcohol, or sex. He resorted to all of the three. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard my cell phone vibrating inside of my Celine bag on the nightstand next to the bed. Dior noticed I was getting distracted and without warning started sucking and kissing between my inner thighs like a snake.

      “Aaaahhhh,” I cried into the pillow. I wanted to run but each time I slid back further onto the bed, Dior pulled me back down. He was devouring my pussy lips and whoever was calling was none of my concern. My body shook as I filled the inside of his mouth with my sweet juices.

        After he finished eating my kitty like it was his last meal he flipped me over on my stomach, giving me long, deep, hard back shots. I couldn’t stop moaning and screaming from both pleasure and pain. We both came and fell asleep. 

     I was awakening to the sounds of my cellphone vibrating nonstop inside of my bag. I panicked seeing that I was naked until I looked over and saw Dior sleeping peacefully next to me. I glanced at the little alarm clock, the glowing numbers read 1:45 p.m.

    “Shit!” I jumped out of bed and grabbed my purse from off of the floor. When I picked up my phone I had ten missed calls and two voicemails, some from Paige and some from Black. I felt like a kid who didn’t want to go home. I didn’t need Black to call to inform me I was in trouble.

     That was one of the reasons we would argue; I always came in the house late but this time I spent the night out. It was like I couldn’t go a day without being with Dior. Everything happened so fast. I went from being Black’s woman to having a side nigga too. I never thought I would see Dior until a few weeks ago. I missed him so much and I didn’t hesitate to show him that.

       I peeled myself of out bed, trying not to wake him up, heading over towards the bathroom and locking the door. I sat on the toilet, pulling out my phone to call Paige back.

     “Hello,” she spoke with a raspy tone. “Tiffany! Black has been blowing up my phone all morning looking for you. He even sent Foreman to my apartment.”

     “Paige are you serious?” I asked her.

     “Yes, girl. He was banging on the door!”

     “I am so sorry Paige. I am with Dior,” I explained.

     “Oh my God, Tiffany! Are you crazy? If Black finds out you cheated on him, he will kill you. He is crazy girl.” She sounded distraught and I could tell she was afraid Black would really hurt me.

     “Paige, calm down. It’s not like that. I love Dior and he loves me. He supports my dreams as a model. He supports me. He makes me feel young. He doesn’t control me like Black does,” I confessed. I was tired of Black treating like I was his slave; telling me when to eat, sleep, and what to wear. For three years I put up with Black having control over me because he saved my life. 

“So what are you going to do, Tiffany, because Black will never let you leave. He feels like he owns you since he saved your life and took care of Mason as his own,” Paige stated.

“I got a plan. Let’s meet up tomorrow night at Joe’s Seafood and Steakhouse on Las Vegas Boulevard,” I said to her.

“The one in Valley Springs District?”

“Yes, it is right around the corner from my house. You know Paradise is only like six blocks from downtown. Black is going to have me on lockdown.”

“Okay, Tiffany call me when you get home. I love you, girl,” she said to me.

“I love you too, girly,” I said to Paige.

      After I hung up the phone with Paige, I jumped into the shower immediately. I got out quick. I didn’t waste any time getting dressed. Dior was lying in bed asleep. I smiled confidently. We had fucked all night long. We smoked weed, popped some mollies, and sipped on some green apple Cîroc. We were lit inside of the hotel room. I can’t lie, Dior was a freak too. He was eating and sucking on my pussy. He even ate the booty like groceries. He gave me long dope dick and I fell asleep.

    “I love you and will see you later,” I whispered into his ear and then gave him a kiss.

     “I love you too but you sure you don’t want me to drop you off home?” Dior looked up at me.

     “No bae, I know Black; he has Foreman driving around the area. I don’t want him to see you.”

     “A’ight, bet. The Uber is outside…a black Benz. I love you and I will see you on Friday,” he said to me as he got out of the bed to walk me to the door.
     “Don’t leave, Tiffany,” Dior said to me as he stared at me with bedroom eyes. I stood there speechless. I didn’t know what to do. I was addicted to Dior. I was in love with his swag and how gangsta he was. Dior wasn’t the type to sugarcoat his feelings. When he wanted something he didn’t hesitant to let it be known. He did things his way.

   Dior had every reason to feel like he was that nigga. He was 21, had no kids, and he was an up and coming hustler. I would have been a fool to let go of a real nigga like him. I’d made up my mind—I was leaving Black. I was tired of feeling like I was missing out on life. I walked back inside of the hotel room, closing the door behind me. 

    Dior loved sex and I loved sexing him, I thought to myself as I rode him into submission. I was tongue kissing him aggressively. We were fucking raw with no care about the consequences. Dior flipped me over on my stomach, kissing down my back as he hit it from the back. He was sliding deep inside of my pearl, going slow then fast.

       After we both came I laid there for a few minutes trying to pull myself together. I was out of breath from all the fucking we’d done. After I got dressed I kissed him goodbye and then I made an exit behind the elevator doors. When I got down to the main lobby I put on my oversized Gucci frames doing my walk of shame as I headed towards the front of the hotel. Just like he said the Uber was waiting for me.

     “Take me to 1450 Paradise Road,” I said to the driver as he pulled off into the busy downtown Las Vegas traffic.

     When I pulled up to my house ten minutes later, I took a deep breath before getting out of the car. I had to prepare to walk into the house with another lie. I was definitely leaving Black in a few days; I just needed my plan to work. Friday was the twelfth and Valentine’s Day was on Sunday and Black never celebrated it so I didn’t care. However, I overheard him telling Foreman they were going to leave a day early to go to Arizona.

        Black started letting Foreman ride with him down to Arizona again. I guess he found a way to earn Black’s trust. I couldn’t stand Foreman; he acted like he was Black’s shadow. He did everything Black told him like a bitch too. I rolled my eyes seeing Foreman’s Cadillac truck parked out front.

     When they leave on Sunday I was going to take some of Black’s money he kept in the stash he didn’t know I knew about.  A few months ago when I was hiding Mason’s Christmas gift under my bed I saw a big metal safe built into the floor. I never wanted to mess with Black’s stash or anything he kept in the house for fear of my life but one day I snuck Dior into the apartment and, don’t judge me, but he was good with shit like that. His father worked as a locksmith so he knew how to open pretty much anything. Once Dior figured out the code, which was Black’s wife’s birthday, inside was $500,000,000.

      I wasn’t stupid enough to take all of it but I was going to take enough that he wouldn’t notice.  I need to make sure I am able to take care of Mason, I thought to myself as I used the key to open the door. Once I was inside I closed the door quietly and then removed my heels as I eased my way down the hallway.

        The house was quiet as usual and I could smell Teresa’s cooking coming from the kitchen. Like clockwork she was preparing dinner for four o’clock. Black was very specific about what time he wanted to have dinner and he even didn’t allow us to eat after seven o’clock.

     My heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest as I prepared myself to walk up the stairs. When I walked into the bedroom I was surprised to see Black sitting inside of the recliner chair drinking Hennessey and smoking a cigar.