Toy

By Monica Clark

Latoya, nicknamed Toy, is a woman vent on revenge but all her plans get derailed when she falls in love with her target's son and she finds herself on a new mission.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Monica Clark
• Release date: Jul 8, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476217178

Monica Clark

Currently living in Florida with her family, Monica is working on her next book and is co-owner of a ladies' clothing line.

Book preview

TOY

By

Monica

© 2012 by Monica Clark

Smashwords Edition

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Prologue

Troy, don’t! I hit him in the chest with my fists. He grabbed my wrists and held them over my head. I tried to knee him in the balls and he slapped me.

Toy, I’m not going to hurt you, you really don’t wanna have sex with me?

Troy. He slid his free hand between my legs.

Damn, Toy, you are so wet. Doesn’t this feel good? It did and my body was responding. He sucked on my nipples and played with my clit. My legs opened wider and I moved against his fingers. Troy put his dick in me and his tongue in my mouth. We moved in unison. We came together after my third time. Damn, I knew we’ll be good together.

Troy, we can’t do this again. Tony will kill us.

I know but some things are worth dying for. He kissed me and got up to leave

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 1

No one wants you! Patrick said. I don’t like fat women. What made you think I would even be interested in you?

His words still echoes in my head. The disgust on his face I still picture vividly. These words have shaped how I view all men. Some say words don’t hurt, they lied.

My name is Latoya but my family calls me Toy, because when I was a baby I was so cute, everyone wanted to play with me. I grew up. I am 18 and just moved with my father. I was tired of my mother’s constant put downs and bossiness. My grandmother had just died and left me an inheritance. My mother was upset because she had been disinherited. At the time, my mother wanted to control my trust until I came of age. My mother wanted me to pay her rent and I thought she was out of her mind, especially expecting me to live with the same rules I did as a child. If I was going to pay rent, then she better recognize me as the adult I was trying to prove myself to be. I couldn’t do that living under her roof and sleeping on the same twin bed I had been for the last four years.

I hadn’t always lived with my mother. My mother and father were married for six years before having me. They got divorced when my mother cheated on my dad with some major drug dealer named Antonio. I was a year old when this happened. My mother couldn’t run behind Antonio with a baby, so she sent me to live with her mother. Because of Antonio, my father went to prison for 15 years. Whenever she felt like she could take care of me again, she would come and take me out of my comfort zone to live with her. She continued to do this until I was 11. During those years, I would alternate living with my mother and grandmother. I was always the new girl in school. I was extremely shy and it was difficult for me to make friends. I became quiet and withdrawn. At the age of 11, my mother let me stay with my grandmother for good or so I thought. I got comfortable, made friends and started coming out of my shell, I built around myself. I completed middle school and was preparing to start high school when my mother developed a different mindset. She came, snatched me up and that was the beginning of the end. I had to start high school with people I never met or saw before. I saw how friends from middle school would greet each other and knew I had no one to share this new experience with. I started to hate my mother. I went back into my shell and food became my friend. My mother would tell me how fat I was getting and made me feel so ashamed, I would hide in my room eating and reading. I am a pretty girl but I never saw it. I am 5’8 mixed, grey eyes, with long curly hair. If I grew up in New Orleans, I’ll be called a mulatto. I kind of looked like Lisa Raye in Players’ Club or so I’ve been told.

In the 12th grade, I developed a crush on a guy named Patrick Davis. He was so cute, in ROTC and just an all around popular guy. My plan was to get him to notice me so I started a diet. I would skip lunch and get off the bus farthest away from home so I could walk. I did make very good friends, Addie and Demetria. Dee and Addie were friends with Patrick so I became an acquaintance of his. He would say hello in the hall and stuff. Every time I saw him, my heart would beat faster. I told Addie and Dee my plan and they agreed to help. They gave me tips on make-up and clothes. The weight dropped but my self- esteem didn’t rise. Even though I looked and felt better, I couldn’t see it despite the interest of different guys. They would talk to me but I would get tongue- tied. They assumed I was stuck up. Around prom time, I was expecting Patrick to ask me to go with