If it Aint One Thing it's Another Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  PROLOGUE

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty- Four

  Chapter Twenty- Five

  Chapter Twenty- Six

  Chapter Twenty- Seven

  Chapter Twenty- Eight

  Chapter Twenty- Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Biography

  Copyright Page

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  To my Blood fam: Mom, we did it! I love you to death lady, And I pray that my accomplishment makes you smile for all the years I made you sad.

  To my first cousin Cherie I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing

  Parkeya I’m so proud of you, Pooda. College girl, keep doing big things—Remember what I told you many moons ago—education is gangsta. I love you.

  Chale and Tashiem I pray that neither of you make the mistakes that I made in my growing years. Know that I lived it for you and I’ve done the research, so that you never have to. Stay focused, stay directed and like always—stay in school. Love you to death won’t let no trouble come your way.

  To Charmainne and Deshaun may Allah bless y’all with endless happiness and Charma keep striving.

  To my cuzzo Rasham (Boobie) I love you and pray that you have the world in your hands. Stay up!

  To my street fam: B.J. the streets is yours my neezie. I don’t care how old you get—you still my baby boy. Curtis you pretty boy uptown’s cutest. Doreen, I told you I want to grow up and be just like you :). Ladelle and Tutu y’all give meaning to the word “gangsta”. Lou Dingo make the bitches wanna purr! You know I know. Monique “Booga” Gary and John “Fix It” Powell, thank you for being there during my dark days. My appreciation goes a lifetime.

  Leon I can never thank you enough for standing by me through all my bids and bull-shit. You are stuck with me for life.

  Maleek and Raheem on 140th—thanks for keeping dough in my pocket.

  To the old-timers on 143rd, Ms. Cherbin, Brother and Pope your warm hellos and greetings always put a smile on my face. Thank you for not judging me.

  Joyce “Juice” Copeland you know the love I have for you is eternal. I want nothing but the best for you. Gangestress, stay up.

  To my Casat sistas who encouraged me to keep writing and to keep hope alive. Rachelle Venable you are one of the loyalest women I know and I pray that I can get up wit’ you again. I love you Sissy and you helped me to stay hungry in this game.

  Joyce Sanders my hopes go out to you and yours that your struggles are few and your victories are many.

  Wendy Dupree when its all said and done I’ll get up wit’ you in da town. Thank you for being a dedicated reader on this novel and arts 2 and 3. Your laughter made me want to write more.

  To the rest of my Casat sistas who read the book when it was on lined paper and urged me to hurry up, because ya’ll wanted more—I love ya’ll to death. Katrina Houser, Janice Jenkins, Tracy Ligon, Tasheema McNeil and India Scott. I pray that we never see each other behind the wall again. I wish all you ladies the best.

  Ms. Tucker thank you for the work that you put in on this project in your spare time. I wish you a peaceful journey in your recovery.

  Mr. Carter in the law library thanks for allowing me to use the typewriter, when all the other officers were hatin’. I appreciate that.

  To all the peeps behind the wall stay up and do something positive wit’ your time.

  Last but far from least I wanna give a xxtra special thanks to Anthony White and Jason Claiborne. Dam, I don’t even know where to start. :)J. First ‘nuff thanxs for puttin’ me on and letting me get my feet wet. I owe you guys everything for introducing me to the world of urban fiction. Wow, I’m getting teary eyed….. Jason, thank you for doin’ the damn thing on the cover and the bookmarks. You said it would happen and it has.

  Anthony, thank you so much for being tolerant wit’ me through all my immature outbursts. I guess you understood what I was goin’ through. Thanks for not abandoning me.

  Leah Whitfield I extend my gratitude to you for doing the editing and also exercising a lot of tolerance wit’ me. Thank you for letting me understand what the word “change” means in editing dialogue.

  To anybody I missed put your name here __________.

  To all the readers I know that you will enjoy this novel. Get at me through Augustus Publishing and know that this is Part 1 of a trilogy. Look for Part 2 “When Love Turns to Hate” and Part 3 “Good Things Gone Bad”, coming soon to a hood near you.

  One Million,

  Sharron

  Thanks to the Augustus Manuscript Team for their tireless work and contributions in making my dream a reality. Thanks to Leah Whitney Tamiko Maldonado, Yasmin Sangari,

  Check us at the website Augustuspublishing.com Go hard or go home, One.

  PROLOGUE

  Share had just left a meeting and was on her way home. Luther Vandross was pumping from the speakers of her brand new Lexus. She’d had a long day and was now ready for some woodwork, which always released the day’s pressure.

  Share was dark-skinned with deep dimples, a beautiful set of teeth and high cheekbones. She could have been a supermodel if she chose. Instead she was a single businesswoman with no kids.

  Share turned onto her block and parked. She grabbed her briefcase off the passenger’s seat and went into the house. She started to ring Petie’s phone to tell him to come now, but she decided not to. He’d probably get there late, but he’d be there. She undressed, put on some music, turned on the shower and got in.

  Chapter One

  Share had just stepped out of the shower and was drying off when the phone rang. It was Petie. He was calling to let her know that he was on his way. Petie was a chocolate brotha with a six pack, a bunch of tattoos and a big dick. Yeah, he had a big gun. Share liked that.

  She kept her feelings in check when it came to him or any other nigga. Niggas ain’t shit but money and dick. Get on your knees and suck my clit. That was her motto, so catching feelings was a no-no.

  Share remembered that she didn’t douche. She had a variety of scents to choose from in her Summer’s Eve selection: baby powder, vinegar and water, mountain rain and floral. She decided on mountain rain. She opened it up and swoosh-swoosh. She always felt good after a douche. Keep that booty
hole fresh, girl, she said to herself.

  Share went into the bedroom and smoothed White Diamonds lotion all over her body and then sprayed some between her legs. Fresh just for you, baby boy. She knew Petie would be there any minute, ready to beat it up. Just thinking about it made her body jump. She had a heartbeat down there and he hadn’t even arrived yet. Damn, I’m open... slow down, breathe easy and remember he’s only a play thing. She’d told herself that a number of times, but her body just wouldn’t listen.

  Petie called Share again to let her know that he had just parked the truck and to come downstairs and open the door for him. She’d thought about giving him keys, but she knew that would be the worst thing to do. That nigga would really think he was the boss if she did that. She let him be the boss in the bedroom; that was good enough.

  Share didn’t take orders or demands from anybody; she was the boss. But there was something about Petie that made her weak. And she was scared of her feelings when it came to him. He was only her back-breaker, she kept telling herself. That was it and that was all. But her emotions kept making her feel otherwise.

  She knew he would be downstairs by now, so she threw on a spandex cat suit along with her favorite animal slippers and ran downstairs. Petie liked to see her in a cat suit, and he particularly liked the front, where it would cut between her pussy lips. Share had fat lips on her chocolate box, and right now she was ready for him to suck her sweets.

  Petie waited patiently on the steps of Share’s brownstone. She opened the door and stepped back into the foyer to let him in, and he gave her a pretty-ass smile that said, “You know I’m about to beat it.” She loved that smile. And she knew all of his looks and what they meant too. She also knew she would have to dead it before he hurt her; Petie was a heartbreaker who was not gonna leave his wife.

  “What I told you about having me downstairs waiting like that? You know parole is looking for me,” Petie said when they got upstairs.

  “Baby, please, the warrant squad ain’t out at night, so be easy,” Share replied.

  ”Yeah, aiight.” Petie took off his coat, threw it on a chair in the living room and made two drinks for them. She knew he liked to drink and argue before he got at her. He was on it like that. He would think of something to be angry about and then take it out on her in bed. She liked that rough shit, and she did all the things wifey did-n’t do. That’s why his ass kept coming back.

  The phone on her nightstand in the bedroom rang, and before Share could go and answer it, Petie rushed by her and snatched it up. ”Speak. Who dis?” he barked. Petie waited impatiently for a few seconds to find out who was calling. Then he said, ”Yeah, well, she’s busy.” And that was all Share heard before he pulled the phone’s cord out of the wall. Here we go. Now he’s got something to be angry about, she thought. ”Come up out of that cat suit!” Petie called out before ordering her into the bedroom.

  Petie placed his drink on the nightstand as Share entered the bedroom. The first thing she noticed was the phone on the floor. She stepped out of her cat suit and picked up the phone. Seeing the plug disconnected from the jack she said, ”What the fuck you do to my phone?” Petie didn’t answer. He had taken off his shirt and was coming out of his jeans now, giving her a ‘You know what time it is’ look. Damn, she loved that look. This nigga...ah, man, I’m feeling his gangsta, she thought. Share never let Petie know how she truly felt about him, because then he would fuck everything up.

  ”Oh, you don’t hear me now? I said, what the fuck you do to my phone?”

  ”Nothing!” Petie pulled out the K-Y Jelly andbegan stroking himself. ”Who the fuck is Will?” he finally said.

  ”A friend—and stop answering my phone. I don’t answer your phone—do I? All right then.” She knew the more shit she popped the more intense their encounter would be, so she kept poppin’ shit. And the more shit she popped the harder his dick got.

  ”You feeling brave tonight, huh...comin’ out ya face. You gangsta now, huh?” Petie said.

  Share kept on and on. She got up in his grill, talking more shit. ”Yeah, nigga, I’m feelin’ gangsta—now what? Get it crunk!” she said, and he did. Before she could go on, Petie was biting her on the neck. He turned her around and started smacking his dick between her cheeks. He spit on her bumper and rubbed it on her hole. He called it his goodness. ”Ma, gimme my goodness,” he’d say. But tonight he was taking it. It was all right, though. He could do that; it was his. Share never let anybody else hit her there. Petie rubbed his fingers around her entry, massaging the hole. Every now and then he would stick his tongue inside, just to get her more ready.

  Petie was so smooth and despite his large sized penis, he never ripped her. And he always talked her through it. ”Share, put your thumb in your mouth,” he said. ”Yeah, like that. Now relax, ma, daddy got you. Don’t run from me. Open up and let me in...yeah, that’s what’s up. Gimme my goodness.”

  She felt him moving in deeper. ”Ooh, God, Petie...please,” she moaned. The head was the worst part, but once that got in it was a wrap. Share was on the floor on all fours with her back arched, her bumper at Petie’s waist level. But the more he pushed, the lower she got. He continued stroking, and her butt began making juices, allowing him to easily slide in and out of her.

  Share climbed onto the bed and Petie followed, hitting her like he was on a hang glider. He was giving her full pressure now, and it was his turn to pop shit. “So who the fuck is Will, huh?” stroking her deeper each time he asked.

  ”Aaah, Petie, please wait. Be nice,” Share begged.

  ”Tell Will to lose your number, ya heard?” he said digging his gun deeper into her hole.

  Oh, God, help me, Share thought. She couldn’t take it anymore. It felt like he was making a new hole that wasn’t supposed to be there. She fell flat on her stomach, hoping his gun would slip out—it didn’t. Petie was long and strong and when she fell, he fell right with her; there was no escaping...in and out, in and out.

  Share began to cry out. Petie loved that shit. The more she cried and moaned, the harder he stroked her. She just didn’t know that all that crying made his dick even harder.

  ”Share, be quiet. Why are you making me punish you like this, huh? Answer me, ma.” He was taunting her now. If she didn’t answer right away he would go even deeper, and Share knew it.

  ”I don’t know. I’m sorry,” she whined. He stroked her long and easy now. He spread her bumper cheeks so he could slide his whole self inside her. “Aaah, God, Petie...please, please.”

  ”Please what, ma? Huh, please what? Answer me.” Before Share could respond, she was coming all over the place. Her pussy cat was soaking wet; it was like a waterfall. God, this nigga is gonna make me crazy, she thought.

  Petie’s breathing quickened and he was stroking her long and hard again. He re-applied pressure, this time creating smacking noises each time he thrust himself inside of her. He pulled out and thrust himself back into her over and over again, until he finally fell on top of her, out of breath and kissing the back of her neck. “Whew! That’s what’s up, ma,” he said. He rolled off of her, gave her a long kiss, wiped the sweat off her face and then kissed her nose. Share turned over onto her back, crossed her legs and looked over at Petie. After a few moments she got up, grabbed her hairbrush from off the dresser and swept her hair back; Petie had sweated out her doobie.

  Share walked to the living room and took Petie’s phone out of his coat pocket. She checked the missed calls to see if she recognized any of the numbers. Ha! Wifey had called only about three hundred times. She wished she knew his password so she could hear the messages. Don’t worry; I’m sending him home now, bitch, she thought. She hated the idea of him leaving to go home to her. She wondered if he dug wifey out the same way he did her. The thought made her sick. She knew who his wife was, but his wife did-n’t know who she was. She put the phone back in his pocket after erasing all of the missed calls. He didn’t need to know that she’d called so many times. Shit, he was going home
to her.

  Share fixed herself a drink and sat on the couch naked, waiting for Petie to come out of the bedroom. She thought that maybe they could swing another episode. Petie walked into the living room putting on his shirt. He looked at Share, wanting to get at her again, but there was no more time for that now; he knew wifey had probably blown his phone up. He bent down in front of Share, spread her legs and sucked on her sweets. She wrapped her legs around his neck, and he nibbled and licked on her clitoris until she was fully arched. He finally gave her one last suck before getting up and kissing her long and deep, their tongues entwined. “Next time, ma,” Petie said kissing her nose. He reached for his coat and let himself out of the apartment. Share threw on a robe and ran downstairs to watch him walk to his truck. Yeah, next time, baby boy, she thought. Damn, I’m caught up with this nigga. Share’s emotions were all over the place. It’ll be all right...next time.

  Chapter Two

  Petie jumped in his truck and grabbed DMX’s It’s Dark and Hell Is Hot CD. He popped it into his CD player and pulled off, with How’s It Goin’ Down pumping out of his speakers. He always played that before and after seeing Share.

  Petie knew Share was whipped. He put it on all the chicks like that. Nobody was special—not even wifey. He only stayed with her because of the kids. She was home base. Nobody could touch that, and he refused to let it go. She took care of his sons and cooked meals every night. Nah, he wasn’t going anywhere. What wifey didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. But if it wasn’t for his sons he would’ve been bounced. She wasn’t fun in the bedroom anymore. She was boring—unlike Share. Share was creative and always willing, and she took it in the bumper. Yeah, that’s what he liked. Share was his, and if he ever found out somebody else was hitting that, he’d beat her down. However, there’d be none of that; he knew she enjoyed that bedroom punishment. But if he ever caught her cheating, there’d be no enjoyment whatsoever—believe that.