The Faithful Side Chick

by Racquel Williams

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Romantic Suspense; Love Triangles; Dark Romance

Synopsis

<strong>An unsuspecting wife finds herself in a love triangle that threatens her safety when her husband’s side chick decides she wants her out of the way. </strong><br /><br />Brooklyn is a fierce, no-nonsense woman who is about stacking paper and building a good life. Meeting the handsome Jihad was pure coincidence, but she quickly catches feelings for this smooth-talking brother. A whirlwind romance develops between them, and before you know it, Brooklyn is thrown in a love triangle she was not aware of. Common sense and her Ivy League education couldn’t prepare her for what is to come in her once quiet life .<br /><br />Alyssa is a money-hungry side chick on the prowl for her next victim. As fate would have it, she crosses paths with the lying, two-timing Jihad. She uses sex and her good mouthpiece to snatch his soul up. Not caring about his wife and determined to become his main squeeze, she and Jihad concoct a devious plan to get his wife out of the way.<br /><br />Jihad is every woman’s dream: ambitious, sex game on point, and a mouthpiece that will have the ladies squirming in their panties. He hits it big when he marries the well-off Brooklyn, but with no good intentions and his narcissistic behavior, he quickly puts a plan into motion that will have deadly consequences. With jealousy, murder, and greed mixed together in this web of deceit, there can be no happy ending in this twisted love triangle. 

Release date: August 22, 2023

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

I’m sitting here thinking back on my life and can’t help but laugh at how naive my ass was. See, all the signs were there, but I let my common sense and my Ivy League education all slip away just because this nigga fucked me good and sucked the life out of my pussy.

To understand how this drama unfolds, I have to go back to 2016. This was the year that brought out hoes and thots to Front Street and gave these side bitches a voice. I remember back in the day if a bitch was fucking your nigga, she used to do that shit on the low, hoping and praying the wife or girlfriend didn’t find out. That shit is now a thing of the past. These new bitches are definitely on some “Let’s share this nigga” kind of shit. A nigga can be married and have a family, and that still won’t deter a bitch from jumping in the DM or hitting that nigga up on some “Let’s get together” type of shit.

See, that’s all motherfucking good . . . until they fuck around and bump into a bitch like me. Brooklyn was the name my dad, who was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, gave me. My mom was from the island of Jamaica. She met my father as soon as she moved here. They started fucking around at a young age. She got pregnant at 14, and he was 16. My father was a well-known trap nigga that had a couple of trap houses all through the tristate. But on the other hand, my mother went to college and earned an accounting degree. In my opinion, I think she did that so she could learn how to clean my daddy’s illegal money.

I was never exposed to that life. As a matter of fact, I went to live with my daddy’s mother, who had moved to Richmond, Virginia. She was a schoolteacher and part-time librarian. Grandma was a dedicated Christian woman who made sure we were in church every Sunday morning, rain or shine. We were always there. I used to think Grandma was fucking the pastor because, in my young mind, I did not understand why Grandma was so damn loyal to this nigga. I ain’t never seen them together, but only God could come down and tell me different. Anyway, I graduated high school, went on to college, and got me an associate degree in psychology, but I didn’t stop until I got my master’s in psychology. I wasn’t surprised ’cause, from a young age, I used to try to get into the mind of these young niggas, often manipulating them to give me whatever it was that my heart desired, whether it was beating them out of the head or bleeding their pockets dry. I was a savage at the games I played.

I wasn’t your average chick. I had brains, and I had a bossy mentality. Maybe this was one of the reasons why none of these niggas were in any rush to bag my ass. I saw how my father treated my mother like a queen, but everyone, including my mother, knew that Daddy was a whore. Rumors had it that he was slinging dick from the Bronx all the way to Brooklyn, and a few females done called his name as their baby daddy. See, Mama was no pushover, though. She stayed calm and handled all of Daddy’s money. Then when he was gunned down in Harlem over ten years ago, Mama walked away a rich woman. I respect my mother, but shit, there was no way I would’ve dealt with his ass that long for the love of the money . . . or would I?

After getting my master’s in psychology, I opened a counseling center with my portion of the money that Daddy left me. Before you knew it, I was raking in a good sum of money on my own. I cater to the juvenile system ’cause God knows some of these young motherfuckers were fucked up in the head and needed someone to help them figure their way out. That’s where my staff and I came in.

The day after my thirtieth birthday, I was walking out of Planet Fitness. I had gained a few pounds over the winter and decided I needed to get them off me. I was never a skinny bitch, but I was always toned. Lately, I peeped a few cellulites creeping up on me. I quickly joined the gym, and I’ve been showing up faithfully ever since.

Anyway, I had just finished working out when I put my Kate Spade sunglasses on and exited the building. My phone vibrated, and I looked down to check it. It was a text from my homegirl. She’s out here visiting a friend and spent a few days at my house with me. I promised her I would drop her off at the airport this evening.

“Excuse me,” I heard a sexy, sultry voice say.

It was too late. I done walked dead into this man. I looked up, and we locked eyes. “I’m so sorry. I was paying attention to the phone,” I tried explaining myself while feeling a little embarrassed.

“Nah, you straight, beautiful,” he flashed an addictive smile at me.

“Have a good day,” I said and started to walk off.

I heard someone running behind me, so I quickly turned around. Surprisingly, it was the nigga that I bumped into. I was confused. I apologized, so what the fuck do he want now? I thought.

“Excuse me, is something wrong?” I quizzed.

“Nothing is wrong. I just felt like I had to come strike up a conversation with you.”

“Really, and why is that?” I was puzzled and annoyed. I had shit to do, and this nigga was holding me up.

“Where are my manners . . . My name is Jihad. What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Nice to meet you, Jihad, but I ain’t got time to be sitting here talking. I got some shit to do.” I started walking off.

“Damn, ma, why the attitude? I just asked your name. You’re behaving like I asked you for your account number.” He came off a little too cocky for me.

“You know what? You’re right. My name is Brooklyn. Now, can I go?” I asked sarcastically.

“Is that your name, or you just threw something out there ’cause I asked?”

“Jihad, I’m a grown-ass woman. Does it look like I’m into games?” I took off my glasses and stared down this nigga.

“Okay . . . Brooklyn, can I take you out sometime?”

“No disrespect, Jihad, but no. I’m not interested. Now, have you a blessed day.”

Without waiting for a response, I put on my glasses and sped off toward my car. This nigga was really tripping. I accidentally bumped into him, and he took that as me trying to go out with him. These niggas must really think every female that they come across is either lonely as fuck or just desperate for the dick. I beg to differ ’cause my ass is far from lonely, and I got a few different size dildos that I use almost nightly or whenever my pussy starts fiening for some dick. Yes, I know, the dildo can never replace a man, but for now, it was doing the job. Sometimes, I fucked myself so damn good, pussy be sore for days. You should see me walking around with my legs close together because of the soreness from tearing my walls up with that plastic dick.

I got in my car and pulled off. I glanced in my mirror to see if he was still standing there, but he was nowhere in sight.

I really hate coming to Richmond International Airport. These damn cops out here be tripping, telling people to move along. Why the fuck would I move along if I’m trying to drop someone off? I pulled up.

“Brooklyn, my dear friend, I am going to miss you. Maybe you can come see us next time you get a vacation.”

“You know I will. I been to Toronto quite a few times, and I love it there.”

“Well, I’m in Pickering. Toronto is not that far, though. Just let me know, and we can get you.”

“Okay, love. Have a safe flight.”

“Okay, hon.”

I watched as she dragged her bags into the building, waited a few seconds, then pulled off. This Richmond traffic was not easy this time of evening. I hope 95 South was not backed up. I was too tired this evening to be stuck in this heat.

Thursdays are usually my busiest days, so I wasn’t surprised that the office was packed. By the time I realized that I hadn’t taken a break or even drunk a glass of water, it was a little past four. Shit, I really was trying to make the gym today, especially since I couldn’t go earlier. My first client was scheduled for 8:00 a.m., which my secretary mistakenly made ’cause my black ass don’t usually work before 9:00 a.m.I thought about not hitting the gym, but I knew that was the devil playing with me. My entire life, I’ve kind of been on the chubby side. Finally, I got tired of looking at that belly roll in the mirror. So, one day I got up and decided to make a change. Shit, three months later, you should see my banging-ass body. I ain’t where I want to be yet, but I was proud of myself. I also changed my eating habits. I cut down on red meat and started eating more fish and vegetables. For lunch, I often bring a bowl of fresh fruits that I picked up from the market.

Finally, I cut off my computer, grabbed my purse, locked my office, and headed out.

“You’re leaving early?” my nosy-ass secretary, Nicolette, asked.

I wanted to say, “Yes, bitch. I am the boss, so I can leave whenever the fuck I want to,” but instead, I smiled at her. “Yes, that was my last appointment. Plus, I didn’t make the gym this morning.”

“You really been on that exercising thing hard, huh? Let me find out you got a new man in yo’ life,” she giggled.

“Don’t you think that’s a little too personal?” I giggled.

“Umm, I’m sorry, boss lady. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“Please, set the alarm when you leave and deposit those checks first thing in the morning.”

“Okay, will do.”

I walked out, slamming the door behind me. See, I wasn’t the kind to sit around and tell bitches my business. There were levels to this shit. I was the boss, and she was merely the help. Regardless of whether I was screwing a new man, I didn’t see how it was any of her business.

I jumped into my car, pulled off, and cut on the music as I made my way to the house. After changing into my active wear, I made my way to the gym. I’m not going to lie. Going to the gym is a task, but whenever I’m finished working out, I always feel better mentally, even though physically, my ass be tired as a bitch.

I checked in and immediately got on the treadmill. Then I did my squats. I noticed someone watching me from the corner of my eye. I turned my head and went back to focusing on getting my workout on.

Finally, I grabbed my bag and was heading out the door when I heard someone clear their throat. I turned to look and noticed it was the same guy I bumped into the other day. I searched my brain. Jihad. I think that’s what he said his name was.

“Hey, you. What you doing, stalking me?” I asked.

“Nah. Me stalk you? Never that,” he laughed.

“So, what are you doing here? Are you a member of the gym?”

“Actually, I’m part owner of the gym. My brother, Jaseem, and I started this business years ago.”

“Oh, nice. A brother that owns his own business.” My whole tone changed toward him now that I realized he wasn’t no bum chasing after me.

“Listen, Brooklyn, ever since I saw you the other day, I can’t seem to get you off my mind. So, let me cut to the chase. I would love to take you out for lunch.”

“Is that so? Hmm, lunchtime is way gone. I think it’s almost supper,” I said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I know. I was just throwing something out there, hoping you say yes. So, can I take you out on a dinner date?”

“I’ll think about it. If you give me your number, and if I decide to take you up on your offer, I’ll give you a call.”

“Man, this sound like bullshit to me. I mean, if you not interested, just let me know straight up instead of stringing me on.”

“Listen, I’m a grown-ass woman. If I wanted to tell you no, I would’ve. So, are you going to give me the number or not?”

“Damn, you a feisty one.” He smiled, showing his teeth, which were pearly white. I did notice one of his teeth had a chip on it, though. That kind of makes him sexier when he smiles.

He gave me his number, and I walked away while he walked into the gym. I got into my ride and pulled off. I couldn’t help but wonder what that was all about. Did he purposely bump into me just so he could ask me out? I was aware of the little games these niggas be playing.

As soon as I got into the house, I undressed. It was the best feeling to come up out of them clothes, letting this pussy air out and letting these breasts hang loose. I poured myself a glass of red wine while I set my bathwater. My body felt a little sorer than usual. I was hoping the hot water would do my body some justice.

I closed my eyes as I relaxed in the warm water with bubbles. Crazy enough, this nigga Jihad popped into my head. I ain’t gon’ front. I was curious to find out what the fuck he was about. I smiled to myself. It’s been a minute since a dude piqued my interest, especially a Black brother. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brothers, but I only dated one Black dude, and that was in my teenage years. All through college and my adult years, I only dated white dudes. The white dudes love my black, fluffy ass. And when I tell you they know how to eat pussy and ass, man, my freaky behind loved it. Often, I get a dirty look from the brothers or even the females, but shit, I love what I love.

The next day, my ass hurried to leave the office and head home. I wasted no time changing into my exercise clothes, grabbing my gym bag and water bottle, and heading out. In my mind, I tried to convince myself that I was eager to get to work out, but who the fuck was I fooling but my damn self? My fast ass wanted to see Jihad. I love the way his name rings out in my head . . . Hmmm. I wonder how it would sound rolling off my tongue when he was knee-deep in my guts?

Honk, honk!

Oh shit, I was tripping. My ass was so caught up in my thoughts I done swerved over in the right lane, causing the old bitch that’s driving the beat-up-ass Buick to honk the horn at me while yelling, “Bitch, pay attention.” I was in a good mood ’cause if I weren’t, my ass would be on the 6:00 p.m. news for beating up somebody old-ass granny. So instead, I breathed hard and continued driving while keeping my eyes on the streets.

Five minutes later, I pulled into the gym parking lot. There were a lot of cars, which meant the gym was crowded. I really didn’t give a damn ’bout who was there. My only concern was if Jihad’s fine ass was there. I quickly parked and sashayed inside. I signed in and got into my routine. I wanted to turn around and peek the entire time I was there, but I tried not to. A bitch didn’t want to come off as being desperate.

Thirty minutes later, I was finished. I grabbed my bag and walked out. I was hoping I would hear someone come running behind me, but I got to the car, and no one came running. I drove off feeling disappointed. Well, fuck it. I quickly dismissed him out of my mind. It was still early. I thought about going back to the office but quickly changed my mind. It was almost rush hour, and God knows my black ass didn’t want to be stuck in traffic. I decided to head on home, but not before stopping at the Boston Market to grab dinner.

As soon as I got home, I took a quick shower. Ain’t no better feeling than a fresh pussy. I put on a little housedress, poured me a glass of wine, and made a plate. I decided to sit in the living room while I relaxed, waiting for the evening news to come on. I took a few sips of the red wine and was definitely feeling lovely. Suddenly, my phone started ringing, so I grabbed it.

“Hellurrr,” I tried to mimic Madea.

“Hey, you. Why is it that I haven’t gotten a call from my best friend at all today?” My BFF, Jasmine, said with her loud ass.

“Girl, I was so damn busy today. First, I barely had time to breathe, and then I left early for the gym.”

“Hmmm, is that so? Is this the same woman that complained about working out? I see that nigga got you doing crazy shit already. Let me find out you already got fucked.”

“Bitch, you so crazy. No, I have not slept with Jihad, and if I did, I probably wouldn’t be telling you.”

“And you know that’s a gotdamn lie. I know the minute you get that dick, you will be on my line either telling me he got some bomb-ass dick or his ass ain’t got no damn use in the bed. Either way, I’ll be hearing about it,” she laughed.

“Well, you got me there.” I joined in on the laughter.

We chatted for a few more minutes, then hung up. That crazy Jasmine was really my grandmother’s adopted granddaughter. We grew up together and have been inseparable since. If she’s rocking, then I’m definitely rolling, and vice versa. We done had our share of laughter, tears, and just going through life together, so she knows my ass all too well.

I put down the phone and took a few more sips of my wine. Damn, I held the glass up, and it was empty. So I got up to fix me another drink. Jasmine put me on to this Pinot Noir, and I’ve been addicted ever since. Ain’t nothing like a glass of wine after a long day at the office. I heard my phone ringing again, so I walked into the living room. Hmm, is that so? I thought before I answered it.

“Hello,” I tried to sound like I was asleep.

“I hope I didn’t wake you up, beautiful.” His deep accent rang through my ear.

“Hey, you. I was just resting my eyes a little,” I lied.

“Well, get you some rest. I can hit you up tomorrow.”

“No, I’m up now. What’s going on with you?”

“I was calling to see if you want to join me for dinner?”

“I already ate. You should’ve invited me earlier.”

“Well, in that case, what about a few drinks?”

He was not giving up, and what the hell? I do want to see him. “You can come by the house since I’m already settled in,” I suggested.

“You sure you want to be alone with me in your crib?” he laughed.

“Shit, I’m a big girl. I can handle myself,” I said, thinking about my 9 mm Glock in my bedroom drawer.

“Well, in this case, shoot me your address. I’ma close up in another twenty minutes, head home to shower, and then I’ll be on my way.”

While he was talking about taking a shower, my mind was thinking of all sorts of dirty things. So I hurried up and cleared my thoughts before my ass said the wrong thing.

“Okay.”

“See you in a few, beautiful.”

After I hung up, I sent him a text with my address. I know I took a shower when I came in, but shit, I needed to make sure my pussy was clean and well shaven. After showering, I rubbed my body with Victoria’s Secret Oil Sleek, pulled out one of my sexy panty and bra sets, then put on a sexy minidress. Finally, I poured myself another glass of wine. By now, I was definitely feeling the buzz.

About an hour later, a text came in on my phone. It was Jihad letting me know he was on the way. I tried to calm my nerves, but I was excited to be around this young, attractive brother, and I could barely conceal it.

I opened the door and watched him walk up the driveway. “Hey, there, beautiful,” he greeted me and gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

I closed the door and walked into the living room. He took a seat on the sofa.

“I got some Grey Goose and a bottle of Pink Moscato for you.”

“Hmm, a man with expensive taste. Thank you.” I smiled at him as I took the bottles out of his hand.

We sat there drinking and talking mainly about our backgrounds and stuff. I tried not to give up too much information ’cause a bitch like me never kisses and tells. Plus, nowadays, you can’t tell these niggas too much about you because they’ll use that shit against you as soon as you get into an argument with their ass.

“So, tell me, Miss Brooklyn, how do you manage to stay child-free and no husband for so long? I hope I’m not asking too much.”

“Well . . . let’s see . . . Most of these dudes nowadays are intimidated by a woman like me. You know, one that got that boss mentality and knows how to run shit. And as far as kids, shit, I got to find the daddy first.” I busted out laughing.

“I hear that,” he said as his hand reached over and rubbed my leg.

I looked him in the eyes and instantly felt my body shiver. His hand continued up the dress I was wearing, traveling up to my breasts. I closed my eyes as he massaged my breast with his hand. My mind was telling me to stop acting like a ho, but my heart loved every bit of the feeling he was giving me. Then things started getting hot between us. Before you knew it, we were both going at it on the couch. My dress, bra, and panties were completely off.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.

He trailed behind me. I assumed he was watching my ass clap while I led him to the master bedroom. Damn, I can’t wait to feel this dick inside of me, I thought as my clit throbbed. I stopped in front of him, wrapped my arms around his waist, then his body, and started kissing his neck. I unbuttoned his pants, allowing them to drop to his feet. I pulled his boxers down to his ankles, releasing his rock-hard dick. Then I ran my hand over it to get a feel of what he was working with. It wasn’t no ten-inch dick. Maybe around eight and a half inches, but it was thick, just like I love it.

“Hmmmm, don’t start nothing you can’t finish,” he whispered in my ear while he used his hands to cuff my tight, firm ass. Hmmmm, only if he knew I could finish whatever I started. I continued kissing his neck while massaging his dick, rubbing it against my clit.

“I want you really bad, beautiful,” he whispered in my ear. My entire body trembled. I swear I felt like I was about to explode, and I hadn’t even gotten the tip of the dick yet.

“So, what you waiting on?” I whispered back to him in a sexy tone.

I think that’s all he needed to hear ’cause he picked me up and carried me to the bed, parting my legs and inserting his dick deep inside me. I’m glad I was wet, and his dick slid in without any major pain. Then he used his hand to grab my ass and pulled me up closer to him. I tried to move a little, but his firm hold on my ass made it impossible.

“This some good pussy,” he whispered in my ear while he thrust deep inside of me.

I wanted to say something back to him, but shit, a bitch was under pressure. My ass really underestimated the width of the dick ’cause it seemed like it was stretching out my pussy.

“Aw, damn, it hurts,” I moaned.

“But you loving it,” his cocky ass responded, still not easing up.

I ain’t gon’ lie. He was kind of right. Even though I was complaining, the fuck was sweet. I think I was only complaining ’cause I’m used to throwing my ass all around and handling a nigga. But this nigga’s dick was huge, which left no room for me to perform on the dick like I would love to.

After about twenty minutes, multiple orgasms, and me screaming and hollering, he finally pulled out and busted all over my stomach. I lay there for a few minutes while he was in the bathroom. I was out of breath and weak from this dick lashing that I received from this nigga.

“You a’ight?” he asked as he walked out of the bathroom in his boxers.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I lied. I really wanted to say, “Hell nah, nigga. My pussy on fire,” but I didn’t. So instead, I eased up off the bed and walked to the bathroom. I tried not to let it seem so obvious that a fire was burning between my legs.

My alarm startled me as I jumped up. I looked at the time. It was 5:45 a.m., the time that I usually wake up. That’s when I realized this nigga was still lying in my bed. Last night after sex, we both decided to rest for a few minutes. Shit, that turned out to be this nigga spending the night at my house. Hmmm. I sure hope he didn’t have no bitch at home ’cause if he did, his ass going to be in a shitload of trouble.

I got out of bed and took a shower. Then I took out a beige-colored pantsuit a. . .