Just Can't Let Go Read Online Free Page B

stool facing the exit, leaned back against the chair, crossed my legs, swung my foot back and forth waiting for Spencer to arrive.
    Say what? Straightening my spine, this could be my lucky day. Phoenix and Goldie entered arm in arm, side by side. I captured a few photos with my cell, then watched them. No doubt. They appeared booed up. I couldn’t believe I had pictures of Mercedes’s husband, Benjamin, cheating and now Phoenix. I could be that bitch to expose these trifling pretenders.
    Stirring up shit in both of my sisters’ households was not my intent. Okay, yes it was. My life was screwed. Theirs were too. They just didn’t know it. I texted a pic of Phoenix to Mercedes knowing she’d show it to Devereaux. To level the situation, I sent Devereaux a picture that I’d taken of Benjamin out on a date at Houston’s restaurant months ago. I might snag my role sooner than I’d expected.
    My brother was a twenty-seven-year-old in heat born February 17. I was a year younger than he, July 28, Leo. My vagina was always turnt up. Being with child made me hornier. I could tell the moment I saw Spencer working behind the bar at the Cheesecake Factory on Lenox Road pouring my mother a birthday drink that he had a big dick that I wanted to ride. I didn’t care that it was my mother’s fiftieth, or that Spencer was interested in her. He was hot for me. I’d admit, I didn’t care about a lot of people or things. I was out to get mine all the time.
    Didn’t believe my mom would go all the way with a man almost half her age when she’d let a sixty-year-old married man move in with her. Guess she caught a break when Fortune suffered a heart attack and died the day after she stepped over the hill. His death was worth celebrating. No one missed his broke ass. Trifling men like dude at the bar should never get laid, but there were always females like my sister Sandara who’d lay with the lames, have their babies, then bitch about what the daddies didn’t do for their kids.
    Whatever.
    At least I can no longer say I didn’t know my father. Now that I knew the truth, I didn’t give a fuck about his old deadbeat decrepit ass. His tired one foot in the grave, high blood pressure, bent over behind with gout in both feet was calling every day begging to see me. My father was a stranger to me. Having met him hadn’t changed that situation.
    I smiled. A half smile as my brother entered the bar. Noticed Phoenix and Goldie were seated at a booth up front. Spencer was six feet two. Had them light brown bedroom eyes and full lips. Slim, sexy, 180 with that creamy milk chocolate complexion. I liked his hair trimmed low; preferred those shoulder-length locks he’d recently cut off, though. Told me the energy in his dreads wasn’t the same after knowing he’d sexed his sister.
    Female heads turned toward him. If they knew he had those indentions in his lower abs that curved toward his inner thighs, a big dick that hooked to his left . . . Alexis, that’s your blood!
    I could’ve waved at Spencer, but decided to check my face in my compact mirror while letting the ladies enjoy his view.
    I didn’t believe in regrets, but that was one good dick I sure ’nuff should’ve passed on.

CHAPTER 3
    Spencer
    A h, yeah. Inhaling slow and long, the aroma of chicken and waffles greeted me the second I opened the door. I spotted her right away. I swore that woman never took a holiday from ultra sexy.
    Vinyl-covered cushioned stools lined the bar. This was my favorite joint. Knew lots of shit like how men approach dudes, hook up, then leave together. What they did wasn’t my thing or my business. The food and hospitality kept me coming back.
    Wooden high tables on the perimeter. Dining-height seats in the front, private cigar lounge upstairs. My man Tom was mixing. I rubbed my palms together. That was what was up.
    Should’ve known there was something beyond