Christine Gray [Gray - I’ll Be Good to You

ILL BE GOOD TO YOU

A COMPLETE NOVEL

A Novel By,

CHRISTINE GRAY

2019 Published by After Hours Publications, Inc. www.afterhourspublications.com

All rights reserved.

Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 17+

TAKE A PEEK BETWEEN OUR PAGES

WWW. AfterHoursPublications.Com

CHAPTER ONE

JOHNNY

Same shit. Different day. Nothing changes in the game. People try to steal your shine by talking shit or rape you by sneaking around to reduce your hard work into nothing by catching a glimpse of your work to make it their own. Then there are the females that want to get into your pockets by birthing a whole baby on your ass. After being in this industry, you get into the groove of things quickly, or you're eaten by the wolves to make room for the next motherfucker that's been waiting for you to fall.

I know I might sound sour, but trust me, I ain't. If not for making beats back in the day for my friends, my ass would be toes up, pushing daisies. Shit, the music lab still wasn't enough to keep me out of the man's system. Three years in for ganging and slanging was all it took for both my wannabe black mama and me to see the light. I know this is completely off subject, but why the fuck white chicks that wannabe black all have the same ass look?

See, like the hoes that are strolling naked around in my crib. I glide over the threshold of my house to find that my boy, Rafael has already got the party started. It didn't matter that I could do without all this shit for just one damn night. I swear, I think his punk ass got an issue. Kim K butts, pouty lips, and jet black hair in braids are all I peep. Tan bodies, big tits, and plastic-looking females all stop to welcome me into my own home. Bass being pumped through the speakers, echoes through the house.

I fight to keep a smile on my face when all I want to do is roll my eyes and tell them to get the fuck out. Everyone in the house knows these women could give two shits about the other men. It's my dick; they all want it to be beating down their walls. The thing is, I can take it or leave it. Loose pussy attached to empty-headed women that only want to floss and spend my money is old as fuck. Or maybe, I'm just hungry for one piece of ass in particular.

"Ladies," I chuckle while walking by the group forming around me.

"Nice selection, huh?"

I glance to my left to find Rafael entering the foyer with another woman at his side. You would think after all these years he would have smooth out that crip walk of his, fuckin' fool. Always stunnin', his neck is iced out with gold and diamond necklaces. His shirt is open to show off his chest and tattoos that he says he got while in the gangs, which is bullshit. Nobody dares to call him for the weak shit he is out of fear of pissing me off. At times, I wonder why the hell I never cut his loud mouth self off. I guess I'm just a sucker for the past. I mean, where the fuck is his lazy, slow boat ass is gonna go, if not on my coattails. Not that I haven't encouraged himeven offered up seed money to help him spread his wings. The fucker just wanna be a turd that's stuck on the hair in my ass crack.

He grins, flashing his gem-encrusted silver grill.

"Oh, look bitches and hoes," grumbles Chana, my sister.

Don't let the fact that she seems stuck on age eighteen fool you. She's a full-grown woman that boast one helluva mean left hook. Her mind is like a steel trap. She never misses a beat, and business is her life. That playground nursery rhyme about making a dollar out of 15 cents, I swear was about her ass. After I was lured back to the States to make beats for a few up and coming friends, she's been right at my side keeping me right and steady. She isn't my only family. She's just the only one that matters.

"Johnny's been in the studio all day, working ," she stresses. "He needs to rest."

Now, that's one thing I can't abide, when a female thinks that she's got the right to disrespect my sister. Chana is my do or die, my blood, and the one that will always be on my speed dial, while the one rolling her eyes is nothing but a rolly and not a stop.

"You lost a contact or something?" I ask frowning. "Yeah, you better fix your fuckin' face," I snap.

"Calm down, take a breath," says Rafael as he dislodges himself from his arm candy. "She didn't mean nothing, right?" he presses glancing at the scared girl. "See, all good. Why don't you go get cleaned up and take a hit of this a few times," he offers as he shoves a fat joint in my hand.

I can't even enjoy the craftsmanship put into rolling it because I'm still stabbing the female with my mean gaze, which brings me back to my other rant about these chicks. They can never be as stacked and beautiful as a natural black woman, so embrace what you have and make peace with it. Instead of looking like a clown and a fool trying to twerk what your mama never gave you, come at me with what you have and let's have some fun. Just because I'm called the 'white Luther Vandross', which I don't think I am that good by the way, and hang out with African Americans, Jamaicans, and Puerto Ricans doesn't mean I can't appreciate all women. Obviously, Rafael and the world didn't get that memo.

"Nah," I sigh as I pass the joint back to him. "Chana is right. I am tired. I got too much on my mind."

"Which is why I went through all this trouble," promises Raf.

"Have fun, man," I smirk while squeezing his shoulder. I hope the bone-crushing pressure I'm applying and the straight stare I'm giving him is all it takes to let him know, I mean what I say.

"Well, okay," he chuckles weakly.

The females don't even hide their disappointment that it's his dick they'll be entertaining instead of mine, tonight.

"I'm going to need to see ID," announces Chana.

"Who do you-"

"Get your shit and bounce, bitch," I spit. "As a matter of a fact, all ya'll get the fuck out," I snarl.

B,b,but, but-

"All you got to do is do as she says," growls Raf. "Everything is on the up and up. See, they're getting their wallets," he rattles.

He comes close to me, "Come on, man, help a brother out," he begs.

I want to list all the things I've done to help his broke down ass out, but I bite my tongue.

"And your cell phones, too," adds Chana.

She places a locked box on the side table for the girls to drop their mobiles in. What goes on in the house stays in the house. I shake Raf loose and head for the stairs. I got to get a grip, though. I mean, I am acting like a douche bag. I claim it's all work and shit, but it's not. It's that goddamn woman. I curse the day my rubbernecking ass peeked her Instagram account. Since that day, I've been like a crack head, stalking her ass and trying to get the hookup. Lord knows I don't want to play the celebrity card to get a date, but for some reason, I know I can't count on that getting me a win.

You know how they say that some men just know which females to try to run game on and which they need not even to try? Well, from what I can see, she isn't about the foolery. Of course, people play all kinda games on social media. They'll catfish your ass into thinking they have millions in the bank and a body of your dreams. Not this woman, though. It's the reason why I can't get her out of my mind because I know all the glitter, she's throwing my way is all gold.