Nobody's Girl (6 page)

Mills figured they'd get married and he'd convince her of his undying love, so by the time the truth was revealed she'd be more inclined to stay—or so he hoped. He was fully aware of how wrong it was, but he loved her too much to risk losing her. He'd be completely destroyed if she was to walk out of his life, so he was willing to do anything to keep her. But now, seeing how unhappy Farrah was and knowing it was all his fault, he felt like the biggest asshole.

The light of the silver moon shone down onto the skyline of the yacht, cascading a soft glow onto Farrah, highlighting her misery. For over an hour she sat alone, gazing at her wedding ring, wondering if she had made a mistake. The only answer she could come up with was that she loved Mills wholeheartedly. But was loving Mills enough? Mills knew that giving Farrah her space was probably the best thing to do, but enough was enough. He had to ease his baby's worried heart.

As he stepped out onto the skyline of the yacht, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful Farrah was. She sat with her knees up to her chest, staring out onto the open sea. Her long, ravenous black hair and colorful maxi-dress rippled in the wind. Mills was only inches away from her, but felt as if he needed to take a bus, plane, train or bike just to get next to her.

“Can I sit?” He stood next to her.

“Yeah.” Farrah scooted over.

Mills sat beside his wife and took in her presence.

“What's on your mind? You've been quiet all day,” he probed.

“I think I'm just a li'l jet-lagged.” She withheld the truth.

“You sure that's it? 'Cause I feel like it's something else.”

Farrah couldn't hold it in any longer. An abundance of tears poured from her eyes.

“Farrah,” Mills took her into his arms. “Talk to me.”

“I'm scared,” she sobbed.

“Scared of what?”

“That everything is gonna come crashing down and that we're not gonna make it.”

“I told you, you don't have anything to worry about. We gon' be straight.”

“But what if we get back home and find out the baby is yours?” Farrah lifted her head and stared into his eyes.

“I already told you it's not, though.”

“I don't know,” Farrah shook her head, not convinced. “I just feel like at any moment the ball is gonna drop and everything is gonna be fucked up.”

“It's already fucked up,” Mills objected. “We just got married and on our honeymoon, but we can't even enjoy it 'cause of this bullshit. You're my wife. Do you understand that?” He looked at her.

“This is what we've been waiting for. I'm not tryin' to beef wit' you, Farrah. I love you and it hurts me to see you so upset. The only thing I can tell you is you gotta ride wit' me. I ain't gon' let you down.”

A swift wind blew through the air as Mills reached over and placed his lips upon Farrah's. Her lips tasted like honey and he immediately became addicted to the sweet taste. Farrah feverishly kissed her husband back, knowing fully well that an orgasm or two wouldn't stop the ache in her heart. Allowing their bodies to become one under the moonlight would only place the unanswered questions and excruciating pain on pause for a brief moment.

Mills lay Farrah down onto her back and lovingly peeled her dress down and away from her body. To his surprise, she wore nothing underneath. Farrah's golden skin shined bright in the darkness. Naked as well, he laid on top of her and kissed her lips once more. Neither could get enough of the other. In the still of the night, among nothing but nature, Mills slid his way down Farrah's chest.

Her supple breasts were begging to be probed by his tongue. As he held them in his hand, Mills licked and sucked each nipple until both sprouted like rosebuds. Farrah loved when he tortured her nipples with kisses. It was a sure way to get her wet. Knowing his baby like the back of his hand, Mills teasingly rubbed his throbbing ten-inch dick against the slit of her cream-filled lips.

“Put it in,” Farrah moaned.

“Uh-uh.” Mills sucked her bottom lip. “Not until you tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” Farrah groaned.

“Promise me you ain't gon' never leave.” Mills stuck his dick inside her, causing her to gasp, then quickly pulled it back out.

Farrah knew that was a promise she couldn't make. She wanted more than anything for their marriage to work, but her and Mills's relationship was as rocky as the sea they floated upon.

“Say it.” Mills thrust his hips hard.

The hard pump of his dick sent Farrah into a tailspin. Her body needed more. She had to release the pent-up frustrations inside of her.

“Say it. Say you ain't gon' leave.” Mills held each of her thighs in the crook of his arm and pounded until she could hardly breathe.

“I'm not gon' leave!” Farrah whimpered, feeling her spirit rise from her chest.

Mills always knew how to take her to the highest height of ecstasy. Within seconds, an orgasm so intense caused Farrah's legs to shake. A current only to be described as bliss shot through her body. She would pay millions to bottle this feeling up, but nothing lasted forever. As soon as Farrah came down from her orgasmic high, all of the uncertainties she temporarily put on hold came flooding back. Staring up at the sky, Farrah held Mills in her arms. Silently, she wished upon each star that all of their drama would disappear and that they could stay wrapped up in each other's arms forever.

–A$AP Rocky featuring Kendrick Lamar,
“Fuckin' Problems”

 

A month had passed since Farrah and Mills's wedding and things had gotten somewhat back to normal. The paternity test results still hadn't come in yet, so on a daily basis nervous energy took up space in the pit of Farrah's stomach. She couldn't figure out why it was taking so long. On the Maury Povich show the results came back in no time. When she questioned Mills about it, his answer was that Jade hadn't taken her part of the test yet.

Aggravated with Mills, his potential devil-spawn baby, and all of the drama that surrounded them, Farrah decided to have a girls' night out. Farrah, London, and their secretary Camden each got dressed to the nines and hit up the new hot spot, the Rustic Goat. It was located in the heart of the city where all of the action was, so the ladies were sure to have a good time. Serving up 1990s b-girl realness in a black Brooklyn Nets snapback, a sleeveless T-shirt tied in a knot exposing her toned stomach, leather leggings, and sky-high Giuseppe Zanotti peep toe gold-studded heels, Farrah tossed her long hair to the back and entered the spot as if she owned the place.

Everybody took notice of her cherry red lipstick, gold lion-head necklace, gold Patek Philippe watch, and Hermès bag as she headed toward the bar. Farrah was dying for a drink and a mojito was sure to do the trick. As soon as the mint-filled alcoholic drink hit her palette, she felt a sense of ease.

“Umm, this is
soooo
good.” She rolled her head around in a circle.

“Mmm-hmm,” London stressed.

“This place is nice.” Farrah took in the ambiance.

The Rustic Goat was a humongous space with beautiful aesthetics: Edison bulbs, plush mezzanine nooks, a back poolroom, and artwork, including some by Muhammad Ali. Patrons were able to look on into the open kitchen, where cooks hustled to get out dishes. Farrah couldn't wait to try the food. The menu consisted of dishes like lobster napoleon with silky avocado and sweet roasted corn, and the southern classic chicken and waffles.

“Let's get a table,” Camden suggested.

The girls found a nice round table near the center of the room and posted up. For the first time in a long while Farrah found herself truly having a good time. It felt wonderful to lay all of her troubles to the wayside and let loose.

“Okay, so the other night . . .” London began telling a story. “Me and Teddy were about to have sex and he was giving me head, right.” She started laughing and wouldn't stop.

“What?” Camden started to laugh too.

“I—” London bugged up laughing.

“Bitch,” Farrah giggled, hitting her playfully on the arm.

“Okay-okay-okay,” London calmed down. “I farted.” She instantly started laughing again. “I farted in his face.”

“Oh, my god.” Farrah's eyes grew to the size of saucers.

“What did he do?” Camden asked.

“He just stopped and looked at me like,
really, bitch
.” London tuned up her face. “I was so embarrassed.”

“I know you were,” Farrah said. “Did y'all finish having sex?”

“Hell yeah, his ass wasn't about to pass up this good pussy,” London replied.

“Wow.” Camden crossed her legs.

“I will never look at the Grammy-award–winning,
People
's sexiest man alive, Teddy, the same again,” Farrah said.

“Me either,” Camden agreed.

“Aww, bitch let's not forget about the time you told us Mills's pissy ass pissed on his self in the car while y'all were house-hunting and still went in to view the house.” London put Farrah on blast.

“Touché.” Farrah winked.

“Speaking of Mills . . .” London played with her straw. “What's going on with the paternity test?”

“Don't ask me,” Farrah rolled her eyes. “Last I heard Jade hadn't went in to take the test.”

“Well, there you go.” London waved her hand dismissively. “That obviously proves that the bitch is lying. She just did it to start shit between you two and it worked. She just mad 'cause y'all were getting married.”

“I guess,” Farrah said, shrugging. “I don't even know. I just want the shit to be over with so I can know either way.”

“What if it is his?” Camden chimed in. “What then?”

Farrah sat and thought about it. She'd threatened Mills a thousand times that if the baby was his, she'd pack up her bags in less than two seconds. But secretly, in the deepest corner of her heart, she wasn't really sure if she would actually leave. To not have Mills be hers anymore would be worse than serving up stepmother realness to his baby. He was her husband and she honestly couldn't fathom life without him. But she couldn't tell her friends that. She had to continue to play the role of being strong and secure in her values. Showing weakness wasn't an option.

“I will leave his ass,” she stated firmly. “Ain't nobody got time for that.”

“But you just got married!” Camden stated.

“And? A ring don't mean a thing.”

“Then what was the point of y'all getting' married?” Camden quizzed.

Faced with an impossible question to answer, Farrah sat speechless. Then a real answer slipped through her lips before she had the chance to stop herself.

“'Cause I didn't wanna be thirty years old and alone.” Farrah stared out into space. “And loving him is better than losing him.”

For a while the ladies sat quiet, each engrossed in their own thoughts of love and loss.

“Well, thanks for killin' my vibe,” London joked.

“Real talk,” Camden laughed. “You ain't have to get all Iyanla Vanzant on us.”

“I don't wanna talk about it anymore,” Farrah sighed. “I just wanna drink, laugh, and dance.”

“Amen!” London lifted her drink in the air for a toast. “Round two is on me,” she announced as they all clinked glasses.

After their fourth drink, all three girls were beyond buzzed and kicking it. Justin Timberlake's smooth hit “Suit & Tie” was bangin' and Farrah was grooving to the beat. She was having so much fun that she didn't even notice that she was being watched from across the room. West Coast Compton rapper J.R. and his entourage of fellow rappers and goons were in the building. He was there for his show's after party.

He and his crew were posted up in the corner of the room with bottles of Ace of Spades and Grey Goose. Chicks were sweatin' him left and right, but he wasn't trippin' off none of them. The women were all pretty and shaped like video vixens, but he knew that they were only checkin' for him 'cause he was signed to Dr. Dre's Aftermath and his debut album
Compton's Most Wanted
had gone double platinum and was a certified classic. Industry heavyweights like Jay-Z, the Game, and Drake were all clamoring to work with him.

His U.S tour was sold out across the country and money was coming in by the boatload. All of J.R's dreams were coming true, but living life on the road was a lonely task and one-night stands with random females had already begun to get old. He wanted more and the mystery girl in a Brooklyn Nets snapback was possibly the woman to fill the empty space in his heart.

Not only was she drop-dead gorgeous, but homegirl didn't seem to have a care in the world. All she cared about was kickin' it wit' her girls and vibin' out to the music. He loved that she wasn't jockin' him. She hadn't even looked in his direction once, which made him want her even more.

“Ay, I'll be back,” .R. told his pot'nahs before stepping away.

Farrah swayed from side to side to Kendrick Lamar's sensual melody “Poetic Justice” as her and J.R.'s eyes met. She couldn't pinpoint at first where she knew him from, but she did know that he was beautiful. Everything about him from, his nappy box to his smoldering brown eyes and the dip in his walk screamed danger and sex. But Farrah couldn't turn away.

He looked to be about five feet eleven and possessed the creamiest chocolate-brown skin she had ever seen. He donned a black T-shirt and three gold chains that appeared to kiss his collarbone. A classic gold Rolex watch, black Y-3 fitted jeans, and black Givenchy sneakers summed up his simple, yet edgy, look.

“OMG, is that who I think it is coming toward us,” Camden screeched, tugging on Farrah's arm.

“I think so,” Farrah said, unsure.

“Is that the rapper J.R.?” London scrunched her forehead.

“Yes, he is so hot,” Camden replied in a daze.

“Who's hot?” J.R. asked, standing in front of them.

“You, you're hot,” Camden stated with a hint of attitude. “You
are
J.R., right?”

“I am.” J.R. smiled, revealing a perfect set of white teeth.

“Fuck,” Camden stomped her foot. “Even his teeth are sexy.”

“His teeth are sexy, really?” Farrah looked at Camden as if she were dumb.

“I mean, look at them—they are.” Camden pointed. “Smile for us again.”

“No, but thanks for the compliment,” J.R. responded, smiling anyway.

“Anytime.” Camden winked.

“Sorry about my friend. I think she's drunk. Hi,” Farrah extended her hand for a shake. “I'm Farrah, the crazy chick to my right is Camden, and the other one behind me is London.”

“Nice to meet you all.” J.R. shook her hand.

“I love your music,” London spoke up. “Your mixtape
The Untold Stories
is everything.”

“Thank you.” J.R. gently held Farrah's hand in his.

“You are so sexy in real life.” Camden damn near drooled.

“Is that right? 'Cause I think that your friend Farrah is pretty sexy herself in real life.” He traced the curves of her frame with his eyes.

“You did not just say that,” Farrah laughed.

“What?” J.R. said, confused.

“Nothin', can I have my hand back?” Farrah cocked her head to the side.

“Yeah, if you say
please
.”

This negro crazy,
Farrah thought.

“Please,” she said sweetly.

Never one to go back on his word, J.R. reluctantly released her hand.

“Real talk, I haven't been able to take my eyes off of you since you walked through the door,” he continued.

“Uh-huh.” Farrah nodded, unimpressed.

“Word?” J.R. chuckled.

“I mean, aren't we a little too old to be throwing out corny pickup lines? You're supposed to be a rapper. I know you can come harder than that, playboy,” Farrah said, smirking.

“Wow, okay.” J.R. grinned, massaging his chin.

Deciding he'd call her bluff, he stepped into her personal space and said, “Damn ma, your ass is so fat I can see it from the front.”

“
What?
” Farrah shrieked.

“Yeah, now that's a wack-ass pickup line. Me standing over there eye fuckin' you for the past hour is a fact . . . not a line. You're beautiful and I wanna get the chance to know you better.” J.R. licked his bottom lip.

“I love you,” Camden said in a trance.

“You sexy as hell.” J.R. stepped back and looked Farrah up and down. “And from the look on your face, you think I'm sexy too.”

“No, I don't,” Farrah replied.

“Yes, she does,” Camden rebutted.

”I know she does,” J.R. answered, giving Farrah a wink and a smirk.

“
Nooooo
I don't,” Farrah stressed, laughing. She could feel her cheeks getting hot from her blushing.

“You do,” J.R. said, nodding.

He could tell by the look in her eyes that she wanted him and it'd only be a matter of time before he'd have her right where he wanted her.

“She sure in the fuck does.” Camden bit her bottom lip.

“You both are insane.” Farrah shook her head.

“Can I buy you a drink? What y'all drinking?” J.R. asked.

“I'm good. I don't think my husband would like a strange man buying me a drink,” Farrah said, flashing her ring.

“Damn, I'm too late? I thought God would've gave me a li'l more time to find you, but I guess he's already blessed you with somebody else.”

“That was a good one.” Farrah wagged her index finger.

“That was the truth,” J.R. replied, totally intrigued by her.

“You know what? It was nice meeting you and I love your music as well, but it's time for me to go.” Farrah picked up her purse.

“Damn, it's like that? You just gon' leave?”

“Yeah, it's getting late,” Farrah said, knowing damn well she secretly wanted to stay.

“Okay, well, should I tell my driver to pull around or are we gonna take your car, 'cause I can drive if you've been drinkin',” J.R. said seriously.

“I like you, but you're crazy.” Farrah patted him on the shoulder before sashaying away.

“Damn, Farrah,” London caught up with her. “You could've at least let him buy us a bottle.”

“What about
I'm married
don't you two get?”

“Girl, bye.” London waved her off. “Married, my ass. Ain't nothin wrong wit' letting a multimillionaire trick his doe if he want to.”

“You can't even front,” Camden chimed in. “J.R. is some kind of cute.”

Farrah looked over her shoulder at him and caught him eyeing lustfully at her ass. Suddenly a jolt of electricity shot through her stomach and down to her clit and she felt her pussy walls start to throb.