Luvin' Him Wasn't Enough

by Racquel Williams

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Have you ever met a man that just grabs your attention and sweeps you off of your feet, only to find out later that he isn’t worth a damn?

Amoy Simpson experienced a rough life growing up and can’t wait to get away from her turbulent home life. Looking for love, she stumbles on Devon, and thinks he is sent by God. She quickly learns that the thug is nothing but a two-timing liar who will go to the extreme to protect the secret he is hiding from her.

Kennedy Guthrie is a self-proclaimed cougar who has everything going for herself—except someone to make her feel loved. After losing her husband to a violent crime, she has given up on love until she comes face-to-face with a street thug who makes her insides quiver and helps to make her feel loved all over again. But Kennedy is no stranger to deceit, and she is determined to show him that she is not the one to play with.

Shari Simpson is selfish and out for herself, even if it means betraying her older sister. Her intentions are deadly, and she has no idea that she is playing a dangerous game. Her lies will reveal that blood is not always thicker than water, and sometimes, the ones closest to you are the ones that you have to watch around your man.

Take a ride with three women, each going through their own drama with the loves of their lives. Will their love prevail, or is it not enough?

Release date: April 23, 2024

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

I was fast, but I wasn’t no dummy. I decided to go to night classes so I could get my GED. I knew it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I also did it to prove to Mama that I wasn’t the “worthless bitch” she often called me. My goal was to save up enough money to try to go to college. If it was the last thing I did, I would prove this bitch wrong.

At the age of 18, I was eager to get the fuck on. I didn’t need that bitch’s permission because I was grown. Over the years, I had gained some experience by braiding the dope boys’ hair and the chicks who needed their hair braided. I didn’t have a cosmetology license, but I had to admit, I was a beast with my hands. I could braid any length hair and do any style my customers wanted. I hooked it up. My homeboy knew my skills and offered me a job in his barbershop on Third Street.

The money that I made at the shop wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to help me get by. I managed to rent a room in a rooming house. I wasn’t fussy. I just needed something clean.

I woke up with a heavy heart because I had to leave my sister behind. I wished there was a way I could get her away from this evil bitch, but she was only 16. The bitch was getting a welfare check from the State, and I knew she wasn’t going to give that up.

I knocked on my sister’s door and went in. She was sitting up in her bed, listening to music. Whenever you saw my sister, best believe she had some headphones on her head. I thought she used music to block out all the bullshit that was going on in her life.

“What’s up, sis?”

I sat on the edge of the bed. I took her hand and rubbed it. “Baby, you know I keep telling you that I can’t wait to leave this hellhole. Well, today is that day. I’m leaving.”

She looked at me strangely. “Sissy, you can’t leave me here with her.” She snatched her hand away from me.

“Listen to me, Shari. I’ve got to go so I can make a life and come back for you. I’m a phone call away and over on the next block. You know I got you.” I grabbed her and pulled her to me. I hugged her tight. I really didn’t want to leave. I wiped the tears from her eyes. “I love you, baby girl. You hear me? I promise, this will be over soon.” I kissed her face.

“Love you too,” she managed to say.

I got up off her bed and walked out of her room. I was tearing up on the inside and couldn’t hold it in any longer. My little sister was my heart and the only person who could make me shed a tear. I walked into my room and grabbed the plastic bags of clothes I owned. The cab I had called earlier was outside, honking its horn.

I was about to open the front door when I was stopped in my tracks. “You think you’re grown now, bitch? Trust me, your stanking ass will be back, beggin’ Mama to take you in. You goin’ to always need me, you little slut.”

I turned around to face her. I was about to address her, but I shook my head and opened the door. She was still hollering some shit, but I was gone. I put the bags into the cab, and it pulled off.

That day, a new woman was born. I was a force to be reckoned with, and no one was exempt. I was that bitch!

This was my first time alone, so I was nervous. I couldn’t sleep, so I lay awake most of the night. I kept replaying Mama’s evil words in my head. Even though I was lonely and kind of scared, I sucked it up and put my big girl panties on. I was determined not to grant her her wishes. She would never have to say, “I told you so.”

I’d been out of her house for about three months. and if I said it was easy, my ass would be lying. I busted my ass at the barbershop every day, trying to make sure I could pay for my room every Friday. Sometimes I would work ten or more hours, depending on how late the shop stayed open.

My hard work was finally paying off, because I had saved up enough money to move out of the rooming house and get a one-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t no big, pretty apartment, but it was enough for me.

I didn’t believe in coincidences, so when I met Devon, it was definitely in the making. I was at work one day at the shop when this tall brown-skinned brother with dreads walked in. I was doing another dude’s hair, but my focus was more on the stranger who had walked in. He had some big brown eyes that seemed like they could see through my soul. I tried to break my stare, but I was unsuccessful.

“May I help you?” said Janice, the receptionist, breaking my stare.

I was kind of embarrassed and hoped he didn’t notice. I went back to taking care of business, but I was still being nosy.

“Yes, I need to get my dreads washed and retwisted.”

“Well, you came to the right place. Sign in right here and have a seat.”

I pretended like I didn’t see Janice walking toward my booth. After all, I was the only braider in here, so who else was going to take care of this stranger’s dreads?

“Well, love, you can stop staring right now.” She burst out laughing.

“Girl, bye. What are you talking about?” I played stupid.

“Mm-hmm. I saw how you were staring him down.”

“What’s he trying to get done?” I said, trying to get off the subject.

“He wants a wash and twist.”

“Okay, I’ve got him after I’m finished with this guy.” I smiled at her.

She shot me a dirty look and walked off. I took a second to regroup.

After I was finished with my client’s head, he paid me and left. I washed my hands and walked over to where the stranger was sitting.

“Hello, my name is Amoy. Please follow me.”

“Whaddup, B?” he greeted me in a sexy, sultry voice.

He followed me and took a seat in the chair. I took the hair holder out of his dreads and shampooed his locks. I stared down on his face as he closed his eyes. I started feeling tingling between my legs, but I ignored the feeling and continued doing my job.

I finished washing his hair and dried it with a towel.

“Come on over here.”

“Your wish is my command.”

I smiled but remained quiet. I knew he was trying to flirt with me, but I didn’t want to come off as being thirsty, so I played it cool. We exchanged a few words, nothing major.

“Look in the mirror and tell me if you like it.”

He stood up and looked around into the mirror. He had a fresh lineup, which made him look extra sexy.

“You did a good job, B. How much is it?” he inquired.

“It’s sixty dollars. You can pay the receptionist.”

“A’ight, bet. See you, shawty.”

“Thank you.” I smiled at him while I turned away to clean up my work area.

I still tried to peek at him through the corners of my eyes. He paid Janice, said something to her, and walked out.

I watched as she hurried toward me, smiling like she had just won the lottery.

“Girl, what did you say to his ass?”

“What are you talking about now?” I was getting tired of her nosy ass for real.

“Hmm, here you go. Looks like the nigga is checking for your ass.” She handed me a $100 bill with a white piece of paper.

“What’s this for?”

“That nigga said that’s your tip, and he left his number for you.”

“What? I don’t need his money.” I behaved like I was shocked.

“Child, you better take this money and take this paper so you can call that nigga. A nigga throwing money at you without even knowing you is a keeper. Why y’all chicks always get lucky?” She rolled her eyes.

I snatched the money out of her hand, along with the paper. I stared down at the number that was jotted down.

“Thank you, boo,” I said. That was her cue to scram, which she did.

I sat down to rest my feet and to let my mind wander around a little. Who was this dude? This was my first time seeing him around here. Whoever he was, I could tell he had a few dollars. I grabbed my phone, put the number in, then put Potential Boo and pressed Save.

Another client walked in, and it was back to the money. But who was I fooling? I couldn’t get this stranger out of my head. I wasn’t really looking for a man—or was I? Anyway, back to the situation at hand. I could definitely use some good fucking and sucking. Shit, I felt my pussy tingling as the thought left my mind and took control of my body.

After braiding five heads and retwisting ol’ boy’s dreads, I was done for the night. I cleaned up my work area and left.

“Girl, don’t forget to call him,” Janice yelled out with her big-ass mouth.

I waved her off because I didn’t have the energy to entertain her ass.

I was tired as hell and hungry. I stopped at the Golden Krust on Fourth Avenue and grabbed me a bite and then headed home. I was starving, so I dug into the Jamaican beef patty and coco bread and took a few sips of my pineapple soda to wash the food down.

My feet were hurting from walking. I watched as the cars sped past me. I definitely need a car. I’m tired of walking or catching a cab, I thought as I walked down the street toward my block.

Just then, I heard a car honking its horn. I kept walking without looking. This was New York, and crazies were always trying to holla. However, the horn kept going. “Look, leave me the hell alone,” I turned toward the street and yelled.

I stopped immediately when I noticed it was none other than Mr. . . .

“Damn, shawty, I’ve been trying to get your attention,” he said as he pulled over to the side.

“And you think this is the way to get my attention? By the way, what is your name?”

“Nah, but it worked. Come on, get in, and I will tell you my name.”

I kept walking, and he kept driving slowly beside me. “I don’t ride with strangers. It’s dangerous out in these streets,” I said sarcastically.

“Ma, stop tripping. We’re not strangers. Matter of fact, you’re my stylist.”

I really needed the damn ride because my feet were killing me, but I really didn’t know this nigga. I had only met him a few hours ago. “You better tell me yo’ damn name if you want me to get in.” I stopped and gritted my teeth at him.

He smiled, showing his pearly white teeth. “It’s Devon.”

I stared at him. I figured he wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. I reluctantly got into his black Chrysler 300. Instantly, the smell of new leather hit my nose. This was my first time riding in something this nice, but I didn’t show my excitement.

“My apartment is right around the corner,” I quickly said.

I was second-guessing my decision to get in his car. For all I knew, he could have been a killer or rapist. I looked around, trying to see where I could jump out.

“Why are you so quiet?” He reached over and touched me.

“I’m always quiet,” I mumbled under my breath.

I was more focused on his hand that remained on my leg. I felt my body temperature slowly rising, and my clit started to tingle. I was about to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out. I gently moved his hand off my leg.

I looked up and noticed we were going the wrong way. “Ay, what are you doing? My house is in the other direction.”

“Relax, ma. I’m about to take you out to eat if you don’t mind.”

I looked at him and kept quiet. I ain’t goin’ to lie. His in-control attitude turned me on in a major way.

“All right, but you ask me first. You just don’t make the decision,” I spat.

“Damn, I love your attitude. Let a nigga know how to treat you. Well, let’s try this again, Miss Amoy. Can I take you out to eat?” He smiled.

“Sure.” I folded my arms.

He took me to Bronx Diner on Baychester Road. We sat down and ordered our food. I was kind of nervous because he sat there staring at me.

“So, Amoy, where’s yo’ man at?”

“What gave you the impression that I have one of those?”

“Shit, you’re a cute chick with a fat ass, so I know some nigga done already bagged you.”

“Hmmm. Interesting observation.” I laughed aloud.

“Yeah, when I see something I like, I waste no time in small talk.”

“Do you have a woman?”

“Nah.”

I wondered why a fine-ass man like that was single. Hmmm . . . Shit, I wasn’t going to worry about all that. He looked like the kind of nigga I could definitely fuck with, and he appeared to have money. I wondered what he did for a living. These were all questions I wanted to ask, but it was too early to be prying in the man’s life.

Our food finally came, and I dug in. I wasn’t worried about him watching me eat because I was still hungry. That patty and coco bread didn’t even fill the gap in my stomach. We shared stories about our lives, nothing too deep, and when we were finished, he paid the waitress, and we left.

After dinner, we got back into the car. I was full as hell, and the wine he ordered me kind of made me tipsy. That was my first time eating in a fancy restaurant like that, and I hoped it wasn’t the last. A bitch could definitely get used to this kind of special treatment. It was so different from when I dated Marquise. The only place he took me was to Kentucky Fried Chicken or to the Chinese spot on Gramatan Avenue.

“The night is still early. Do you wanna chill with me?” he asked after he pulled off.

“I ’on’t know. I’m kind of tired,” I said, hoping he would say something to convince me to chill with him.

“Come on, ma. I’ll give you a massage and rub your feet.” He looked at me and smiled.

Damn, that shit sounded enticing. My mind was telling me no, but my body was in full control and wasn’t trying to hear that bullshit I was talking. “Well, we can chill, but only for a little while,” I cautioned him.

I was grown, so why was I pretending like I didn’t want to chill with him? I was curious to find out more about his life, and this was the perfect way to find out. “God, please don’t let this man be no rapist,” I whispered under my breath. I closed my eyes as he drove, nervous as hell. I counted from ten to one, trying to calm my nerves.

He pulled up at a house on the nicer side of Mount Vernon. Only people with money stayed in that section. I stayed seated as he pulled into the driveway. He got out of the car and walked over to my side.

“Come on, B.” He opened the car door for me.

“Whose house is this?”

“This is my shit, B,” he answered like he was annoyed with me asking that question.

He opened the door and showed me the way in. He followed me inside and locked the door behind us. I was starstruck at the sight of the house. The house was nicely decorated, with big leather couches and a large rug in the middle of the floor. The television was huge and sat nicely over the fireplace. I knew then that I was dealing with a nigga with some money.

“Don’t be scared. Come in and get relaxed.”

I gave him that “yeah, right, nigga” look.

“Here you go.” He walked out of the kitchen and handed me a glass of wine.

“Thanks, but don’t try to get me drunk,” I jokingly said.

“Nah, B. It ain’t like that. I just think you might need something to relax you a little.”

I liked him already. I stared at his features. Baby boy was definitely blessed in the looks department. I still wondered why his ass was single. The wine was taking its effect on me because I went from admiring his face to looking at his crotch. The print of his dick was visible because of the Nike sweatpants he was wearing. I took another gulp of the wine to calm my nerves. Bitch, stop trippin’, a little voice in my head warned.

“You good, shawty?” He moved closer to me.

“Shit, I’ll feel better if I lie in your arms,” I said bluntly.

“What you waiting on then?”

He had big, strong arms. He pulled me closer and wrapped them around me. He used his hands to turn my face around to him, his lips then locking in on mine. The smell of alcohol reeked through his breathing, but that didn’t bother me. He started to passionately kiss me, and I stuck my tongue in his mouth. The influence of alcohol clouded my judgment and caused me to act aggressively. He ran his masculine hand across my breast, gently massaging it. I grabbed his dick into my palm and gently stroked it. This nigga had one of those horse dicks. It was long and thick. Whoever his daddy was, he had definitely blessed him.

He aggressively started to rip my clothes off. I helped him out by unbuttoning my shorts and stepping out of my drawers. I felt a gush of juice dripping down my legs. He picked me up and carried me upstairs to his king-sized bed. My body temperature was on fire as he parted my legs and dove head-deep into my pussy.

“Aweee,” I moaned out in ecstasy. He applied more pressure as he locked his tongue on to my clit. My body tightened, and my legs trembled as I busted into his mouth. I wanted to get fucked now, so I pulled him up toward me. He got on top of me and eased his dick inside. I cringed as his dick made its way all the way inside of me. The pain was unbearable, but the feeling was lovely. He slowly ground on top of me, and I held him close as I had multiple orgasms. I wanted him as bad as he wanted me. I knew then that I had to make him my man one way or another.

Everything started moving so fast between us. I was definitely digging him, and I knew he was digging me also because he was showing lots of interest in me. I would go to work in the barbershop, and he would go to work, wherever that was. I thought about asking him where exactly he worked, but I didn’t want to pry any further than I did already.

I was kind of skeptical at first because things were moving too fast, and I didn’t want to be used and end up getting dumped. But the more time we spent together, the deeper my feelings for him got, and my goal was to make him my man. Even though we were spending time together and he was taking me shopping, he still hadn’t come out and said we were going steady. I wanted to ask him, but I was kind of scared of what his answer may have been, so I kept quiet and just rolled with the flow.

I figured that he was a street nigga because his phone was constantly ringing throughout the night. Sometimes, while we were in bed, he would get up and walk out to answer it. At first, I thought it was a woman, but I quickly dismissed that idea because of the amount of time we were spending together.

I wasn’t a fool though. I knew that if he was a dope boy, there were plenty of bitches lined up trying to get him. I had to admit, he made me feel special because he chose to be with me. I wasn’t worried about no bitch though. In my eyes, I was his woman, and he was my man. Until I saw differently, that was what it was.

Things were still going good between us, but I started noticing a few things. Like, after that first night at his house, we never went back. Also, after a month of us going together, he started leaving at night but would come back early in the morning to take me to work.

One morning, while he was dropping me off at work, I decided to ask him what was going on. “Babe, why don’t you ever stay over anymore?”

“Why you say that?”

“Because it’s been a while since you spent the night, so I’m just curious.”

“Ain’t nothing, baby girl. Just been handling business, and when I’m finished, I be beat.”

I didn’t think he was telling the truth, but I had no proof that he was lying, so I dropped the subject.

He pulled up at my workplace. I kissed him as usual and watched him pull off. I had a bad feeling deep inside of me that had me bothered.

As soon as I got to work, I started feeling sick. Numerous times, I had to run to the bathroom to throw up. I figured it was that cheese sandwich I had earlier doing a number on my stomach. I made myself a cup of soup, thinking it would settle my stomach, but the smell sent me back to the bathroom. I decided to call a cab and go home. I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t, and I was feeling really sick. I called Devon to see if he could take me to the hospital.

“Hey, babe, can you take me to the hospital?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been throwing up all day, and I drank some soup, but I still feel sick. I had to take a cab home.”

“A’ight, bet. I’ll be there.”

I dragged myself out of bed and changed from my jeans into a pair of sweatpants and a wife beater along with my Aeropostale slippers. Today was definitely not my day, and I didn’t give a damn about my looks.

I lay across the bed, trying to block out the bad feelings. I was no longer throwing up, but my stomach felt queasy. I heard my phone ringing, so I reached for it. I looked at the caller ID, and it was my little sister.

“Hey, sissy,” I answered, but I was weak.

“Damn, bitch. Why you sound like you’re dying and shit?” She giggled.

She had no idea how true that statement was.

“I’ve been throwing up all day. Devon is on his way to take me to the ER.”

“Devon? Who the fuck is this Devon, and why is this the first time I’m hearing about him?”

“This dude I’ve been dating for a while now. I didn’t know how it was going to turn out, so I didn’t say anything.”

“So now we’re keeping secrets and shit?”

“Nah, but, sis, just know he makes me happy, and I think I love him.”

“That nigga must’ve fucked you real good for you to be bragging on him like that.”

“Uh-huh, and he’s got some money. Anyway, sis, I’ll update you o. . .