Sex in the Hood Saga (50 page)

Duke took one look into Shar Miller's devious eyes and felt pumped with power. And here, inside this white stretch Navigator limousine, Shar looked fine as hell. She sat with Leroy Lewis from Miami, Raynard Ingalls from Chicago, and Red Moreno himself.

“Vegas look good on you, girl,” Duke said, glancing over her body. He'd hardly gotten a look at her at the last meeting at the nightclub, when she'd been covered by her Stud and Baby Blue.

Now, Shar wore a skintight black dress that pushed up her big chest and showed off a tattoo that said
SHAR
scrolled across the top of her left tittie. Next to that, her tiny red cell phone poked from between her nutmeg-brown boobs. She had to be damn near forty-five, but her smooth skin proved that black don't crack.

Timbo became as long and hard as a log inside Duke's baggy jeans. “How you gon' look betta wit' age?”

She smiled, glancing at the bare-chested Stud beside her. His brown biceps bulged as she stroked the leg of his jeans. He was holding her steaming coffee cup with one hand and picking a piece of lint off her arm with the other.

“This is my fountain of youth.” She glanced at the Stud. “The secret lies in womanly wisdom and a daily regimen of sex. And thank you, Massa Duke. I am so honored to work with you as a partner to put you back in charge of Babylon. We can't let all that business sense you got go to waste.”

Duke shrugged, but sat tall. The sound of somebody calling him Massa Duke again made Timbo throb so hard he hurt. “I'm back in full effect.”

Moreno flicked his wrist to make his watch fall down from under his crisp white shirt sleeve. How he could even tell time with that blinding sparkle of diamonds was a mystery. And how he could concentrate with Baby Blue sucking his dick was even more baffling.

Duke wanted to see if Moreno's dick looked as waxy as the rest of his skin. That muthafucka looked embalmed; cold, hard, and chemically preserved. Like Prince in his casket. And with that spooky accent, maybe he was some kind of vampire that would live forever until someone drove a stake through his evil heart.

Leroy shifted on the seat. He rested his gold-ringed hand on his crotch and watched Shar in action.

It was hard enough to look at the top of the crack of Baby Blue's fine ass as she knelt in front of Moreno, her jeans holding that bubble-booty of hers just right. The way her head bobbed on his lap and her mouth made little sucking sounds made Timbo stand up like a tree trunk. And the scent of sex filling the limo didn't help much.

Moreno's hazel eyes looked as sharp and alert as he rested his waxy-looking right hand on Baby Blue's head and said, “Duke, my brother, Shar, Leroy, and Raynard, pardon my promptness, but the time is short. We can reminisce once the fortunes are in our respective bank accounts.”

Shar sipped her coffee, which seemed to deepen her voice and harden it into a razor-sharp tone. “Massa Duke, your brother seems to have forgotten where he came from. Others on the Board are ready to pluck him out, so we'll just be doing them a favor tonight to expedite the process.” She raised her long red fingernails to her mouth, parted her red-painted lips, and poked a nail into the gap between her front teeth. She made a sucking sound like she was disgusted. And she moved her hand like she was trying to pull out a piece of sausage that had gotten caught there during breakfast.

She looked elegant and business-like, but the bitch was bad as she needed to be. And the hard glint in her eyes as she spoke of Knight reinforced Duke's belief that Shar wasn't about to play pussyfoot and fuck anything up. She was serious as a heart attack.

“Knight's righteous act,” she said, taking the coffee cup from the Stud, “strikes the wrong way, when you remember what a ruthless renegade muthafucka he was before he got locked up.” She sat with her ankles together so that the pointed tips of her red patent leather boots looked like they could make a brotha cry—either in lust or in pain. Or both.

Duke had already had her like that. But this was strictly business now.

She already was. Their phone conversations for the past several months had laid the foundation for the coup of the century.

If Knight had strutted in like the new sheriff in town, then Duke was about to swoop down on his ass like a global superpower.

“My operations around the world,” Moreno said, “will be greatly enhanced by this partnership. I need it to work out to the finest detail tonight.” Moreno's tongue flicked over his blood-colored lips. “Your brother has promised me the ultimate delight when my teams win The Games.”

Duke stared into Moreno's sleazy eyes. There could be only one thing that could make Moreno glaze over like that.

“It's gon' be wild, fo' sho',” Duke said.

“You'll be glad to know,” Shar said with a smooth, deep voice that was nothing like the ghetto-girl twang she'd had while working as a Slut here at Babylon. “That every aspect of Oz is playing out like a well-rehearsed movie; it's almost too perfect.” Her dark eyes focused hard on him in a business like way. They looked into his face without a glimmer of disgust or disdain or pity or any of the other fucked up attitudes people had been projecting on him since he came back.

Now, he was a phoenix rising out of the ashes of his own pipe, reinventing himself, bigger and badder than ever.

And Leroy Lewis from Miami was picking up on that. Leroy smiled without showing any reaction to Duke's appearance, and that made Duke feel pumped even bigger and better. “Duke, baby,” Leroy said, wringing his gold-ringed hands together, “I been waitin' for this day to come. No disrespec', but I can't stan' that scoundrel who came out yo' momma hoochie befo' yo' sweet ass.” Wearing a lemon yellow suit with matching alligator shoes, silk tie, and a feathered hat in the same color, Leroy looked like the pimp he was.

“We gon' make this happen so big an' bad, we gon' make Babylon look like a backalley, boot leg.”

Shar rolled her eyes. “Right now we need action, not words. I have to warn you, though”—Shar glanced toward the dark tinted window at the blue Detroit River sparkling in the morning sunshine—“your girl Reba was having serious doubts about this venture. In fact, her absence right now indicates a serious problem. She should be actively participating in every conversation.”

Duke ground his teeth. That bitch had better make right and get her act together. He had no place or patience for a snitch or a defector.

Shar added, “I talked some sense back into her, but Duke, you'd be wise to keep an eye on her.”

“Already on it,” Duke said. “E'rybody in position for tonight? The Barriors and B'Amazons?”

“We've had two drills, both successful,” Shar said.

Duke nodded. “And the inside info you got e'rythang pinpointed, how to take down the dudes wit' the bank?”

Shar nodded down to her phone between her titties. “Just had them on my hotline,” she said with a deep laugh, “and we're all set.”

“What about Gerard and security?”

Leroy's shoulders shook up and down as he laughed. “We sendin' him the kind o' poontang that'll make him think sweet Jesus done turned into a girl an' come to escort him through the pearly gates.”

Raynard “Dickman” Ingalls, wearing a green Pelle Pelle leather jacket covered with rhinestones and Benjamins, cracked his knuckles. The twenty-year-old from Chicago was notorious for running a gigolo ring that was thrusting into the upscale market, just as Duchess was doing for Babylon. “I been studyin' the demographic in all the cities we gon' take.” He fingered the bill of his baseball hat that matched his jacket. “The Queen ain't got nothin' on what we gon' do.” He cracked his knuckles again then flashed a golden grill that had DICKMAN etched in diamonds over his front teeth.

“Coo',” Duke said as he ticked down his mental check-off list for Oz. “What about the Hummers and the drop-off?”

“We've got the schedule and a double backup plan,” Shar said. “As soon as The Games officially end at midnight, you and I will meet with Reba and Antoine in the tunnel. Leroy will be in the boat with the crew. We'll target each diver and take their moneybags. Those who may have already reached the boat—”

“We gon' be pirates like a mug,” Duke said with an ecstatic tone. But a tremor rippled through his thin body as the image of his bigger, badder, blacker brother, Knight, came to mind. Duke shook his head to banish the thought. He ground his teeth, loving the strong, powerful feeling of his jaw muscles flexing. He couldn't wait to look down on Knight and make him pay for his lifetime of abuse.

Yeah, pretty soon Knight would be Duke's servant. He might even make big bro' sleep on a cot every night so he could watch Duke make love to his Duchess over and over and over again.

He savored the power of his new court here in this limo. “Yo, Dickman, how y'all's crew handlin' the take-down?”

Raynard cracked his knuckles. “Yo, rock dis, I got a exact map showin' the spot where we gon' get his black ass. My crew flawless. Yo' boy, Knight, gon' be right where you want him in about”—Dickman checked out his watch—“twelve hours.”

“Coo', coo'.” Duke bit down a smile. By daybreak, he would be back in charge of Babylon. His insides tingled.
With Knight out of the way, the Duchess will be mine when all this shakes down tonight.

Timbo jumped and flipped under his jeans. His dick was like an excited fish that couldn't wait to dive into the deepest, warmest, sweetest waters, and frolic for a lifetime.

Inside The Playhouse, where one of the private suites was transformed into a bridal boudoir and dressing room, The Queen stepped into the sexiest wedding gown she'd ever seen.

“Damn, I feel turned on just looking at myself in this mug,” The Queen said with a seductive tone.

“Put
that
into an etiquette book for brides on their wedding day!” CoCo giggled. Then CoCo said with the kind of prim and proper English that she had used while working for The Queen's father, “Every bride should feel so excited and happy on her wedding day, that her entire genital area should become aroused with a moist, swelling sensation. In addition, her nipples should tingle, and her mouth should pucker slightly, to indicate that she is ready and available to receive her husband's penis on their wedding night so that she can get fucked into a delirious stupor.”

“Love it!” The Queen laughed.

CoCo lifted an already-open, dark-green bottle of Cristal from the silver ice bucket on the vanity. She poured a steaming stream into The Queen's crystal flute, then her own.

“Cheers!” CoCo said, as they clinked glasses. “Here's a toast to the sexiest bride marrying the sexiest groom on the sexiest day in Babylon history!”

The Queen raised her crystal champagne flute to her lips and took a long sip. She couldn't wait for the sweet bubbles to dance on her tongue and through her whole body. The cool fluid would relax her tense muscles and erase all thoughts of the high security alert on this stressful-ass day of The Games. “To tell you the truth, girl,” The Queen said, “I can't wait to get the fuck outta here and enjoy my honeymoon. I wish they'd just catch Duke and take care of his ass so we can get on with our lives.”

“As many Barriors and B'Amazons they got outside this room,” CoCo said, “and all the security cameras, you got nothin' to worry about. Knight wouldn't let nothin' happen to you, girl.”

The Queen remembered all the terrifying moments over the past month that had made her question whether she wanted to remain in Babylon as a married woman raising a child with Knight. “Sometimes I wonder if I'm in the right place.”

“It don't matter where you at.” CoCo brushed a loose thread from her pink maid of honor dress. “As long you wit' the man you love. That's how I feel about me an' Jamal. Much as I love Babylon an' his music, I'd drop it all an' live in a barn wit' him if he wanted me to.”

The Queen giggled. “Girl, you crazy.”

“Money don't buy love or happiness, but love make you happy.”

“I'm gonna talk to Knight on our honeymoon about our future,” The Queen said. “If I ever surrender my throne, it's yours, CoCo.”

CoCo's eyes glowed with appreciation as they filled with tears.

The Queen raised the glass to her lips and took a sip of the sweet, bubbly liquid. A golden spray of champagne shot from between The Queen's lips and into the warm beams of sunshine pouring in from the warehouse windows. “Oh, shit!” She slammed the glass down on the vanity. Her other hand instinctively grasped her stomach.

CoCo's eyes widened with alarm. “What's wrong? Girl, I didn't think you'd get wedding-day jitters.”

“Just a cramp.”

The Queen wanted to share the good news for weeks, but Knight insisted that she keep the pregnancy a secret until she was actually showing. Plus, the first three months were the most high-risk time for miscarriage anyway.

“We'll wait until it's safe,” he'd been saying for the two weeks since her period was late.

The home pregnancy test confirmed what Celeste had already told her, and the doctor down in the clinic had proven it with a blood test.

Her and Knight's baby didn't need to be swimming around in Cristal. “Damn!” The Queen exclaimed. “My mind is so fucked up right now, I can't think straight to save my life.”

“Don't say that, girl. You know Knight says our words have power. Every bride is whack on her wedding day; it's normal.”

“How many brides you know who got armed guards outside their dressing room door?”

CoCo shrugged. “This life in the big city. But you The Queen of Babylon, so be glad about it. Look at you!”

The Queen checked herself out in the mirror. But she didn't really see herself, except for the brilliant sparkle off her QUEEN choker necklace as the sunshine lit up every diamond. It was so bright, it created silver blurs in her eyes as if someone had just snapped her picture with a flash.

From here on out, she would drink only bottled water, juice, and milk. And most of all, she'd keep her head straight so this wouldn't happen again.

“You and Knight got what everybody else wants but can't even think about having,” CoCo said. “It's too rare. So smile. Celebrate, sweetheart!”

The Queen imagined staring into Knight's eyes at the altar. She believed that the only time she could feel more intoxicated and euphoric than that moment was when she was making love with Knight. Otherwise, the thrill of every little girl's dream coming true, in this most sexy, blingin' way, was so over the top, she felt dizzy.

“Knight's gonna love this dress so much.” The Queen giggled. “He'll be at the altar like, ‘Uh, 'scuse me, y'all, we got some business to handle.'”

CoCo, who was sipping champagne as The Queen talked, pulled the crystal flute away from her highly glossed lips. She laughed. “Then he'll be like, ‘Yo, Rev, move out the way an' lemme jus' drill this fine ass on the altar for a hot minute.' “

The Queen bent down slightly as CoCo adjusted the lace straps of her gown over her shoulders.

“It might be white,” CoCo said, “but it ain't innocent.”

The Queen grinned and shivered as she looked into the giant, three-paneled mirror set against a wall draped in pink tulle, white roses, and green vines. She pivoted on white satin stiletto slippers, loving how the dress hit every curve just right.

“CoCo, look.” The Queen stroked the curve of her chest. Her diamond engagement ring sparkled in the sunshine, and her French manicure with clear, opalescent pink polish matched the dress perfectly.

“Girl, you makin' me hot just lookin' at you.” CoCo made her shoulders shimmy as if she had caught a chill. Then she stood in the mirror and untied her robe. It fell open. In the bright sunlight, CoCo's pussy glistened like a melting chocolate rose.

“Damn, girl!” The Queen made a sucking sound. “Look like you need a bitch to take care o' that.”

“Naw. I'm savin' it for Jamal tonight. He like it when my pussy be marinatin' in hot cream all day, then when we fuck, it's like so boilin' hot, he almost can't stand it.”

“Girl, you talk so prim and proper in business, but get you some Cristal and a hot pussy, an' you just as rank as me.” The Queen ran her hands down the lace bodice. Embroidered with tiny pink crystals, the body-hugging fabric shimmered as it curved in a perfect hourglass over her breasts, waist, and hips. Right at her thighs, the dress poufed out in an explosion of pale pink tulle, which was also embroidered with tiny white crystals.

“Can you believe I designed this myself?” The Queen said. “It's like a vision just came to me. And the designer was right on point.”

Suddenly, The Queen heard Knight speaking in her thoughts,
You were a vision I saw on TV. And the divine plan was right on point. Now you're about to be mine for life. Love you to the infinity, baby girl.

Celeste answered,
I'm your Queen forever.

The Queen's nipples hardened, and her pussy swelled with heat and cream. It wasn't so much lust for the sexiest man alive; she was aroused by a sensation of pure joy. After all she'd been through, she was finally being rewarded with the most amazing gift; the love of a lifetime.

The Queen gathered her long black hair up into a twist, which she secured on top of her head with two shimmery white chopsticks. Then she turned around to glimpse the back of the dress, which was mostly bare skin. The lace fastened behind her neck, forming a halter top with two strips that stretched down over her shoulder blades to support the backless dress. Framed by a scalloped lace edge, most of her back was bare, all the way down to the crack of her ass.

“Damn!” CoCo zipped the side of the dress from The Queen's hip bone up to her ribcage. “That designer got it fittin' like second skin. And look,” CoCo ran her finger over The Queen's tattoo at the base of her back. “You gon' walk down the aisle and everybody gon' be starin' at your tattoo.”

The Queen cast a seductive glance over her shoulder at CoCo. “Love the way you touch me, girl.” Then her gaze lowered to the reflection of her tattoo in the mirror. She read the black, Gothic-style letters aloud, “Queen of the Knight. Damn! You won't see this sexy shit in those prissy bridal magazines.”

“I bet you'll see a bunch o' hoes copying your style, though. Hey, girl, don't forget about your garter.” She pulled it from the vanity, which was covered with makeup that The Queen had just applied. On it also sat a small beaded purse that held The Queen's pearl handheld pistol. “Here, sit down so I can put it on you.”

The Queen sat on the white satin stool in front of the vanity. Fabric rustled as she pulled up her dress.

CoCo, who hadn't fastened her robe, knelt before her. Her tight little body, and juicy, cantaloupe titties with nipples made The Queen's mouth water. “Does it go on your left or right leg?” CoCo looked from The Queen's satin shoes up to her face for an answer. Her eyes grew large. “Oooh, girl I never heard of a bride who just said to hell with panties altogether!”

The Queen spread her legs wider and rested her elbows on the vanity behind her. “I get too hot.” She cast a seductive stare down at her assistant. She knew CoCo was clean; she'd just been checked the day before, along with Jamal. And The Queen knew for a fact that CoCo wasn't getting with any other girls. “Hot and horny,” The Queen said.

In fact, all those pregnancy hormones were keeping her pussy moist at all times, no matter what she was doing. But Knight looked so weak and pale lately, she was afraid to over tax him by demanding dick every hour on the hour.

“Tell me you love to lick my pussy.” The Queen moaned in anticipation of CoCo's hot mouth pressing down on all her hot, swollen meat. “Tell me you love it.”

CoCo slid her hand between her own legs as she dove forward with an open mouth. She inhaled loudly. “I love to lick this pussy,” she whispered, making her hot breath steam onto the top of the bride's clit.

The Queen loved the sensation of CoCo's nipples rubbing against the insides of her thighs.

CoCo stuck out her tongue and licked the tip of The Queen's clit. She loved the sound The Queen made as she moaned.

“Lick that shit like you a little kitten,” The Queen whispered. “Suck up all that milk.”

CoCo wrapped her lips around her clit.

The Queen buckled. “Damn! You do that good. You still gon' lick me off after I'm married?”

CoCo licked faster.

“Speakin' in tongues,” The Queen said with a mellow, intoxicated moan. “Love it.”

“Damn, girl, all that champagne made me have to pee.” The Queen giggled.

CoCo stood up.

“Go 'head. Turn on some music.”

CoCo walked toward the living room area. The sexy beat of
Diamond Hearts
blasted from speakers built into the walls around the suite.

The Queen stood and danced in her gown. She grabbed her veil from the mannequin, put it on, and spun in a big blur of white.

She froze. Her ears strained against the loud music. Those two sounds were unmistakable. And they came from right outside the door, where at least two Barriors were stationed at all times.

She scanned the vanity for her phone. With the push of a button he'd be here. After all, he was dressing on this same floor, in a suite at the opposite end of the long hallways. But where was the phone under all that makeup?

If ever she needed to use their supernatural vibe to call him, now was the time. She tiptoed to the entrance hall and peeked through the peephole. Nothing. Except an empty hallway with brick walls and wooden doorways lit by cobalt blue sconces.

She spun, holding up her gown. She ran toward the bedroom dressing area. The double doors opened. The Queen's heart raced. The metallic taste of fear burned on her tongue.

Because Reba and Antoine were entering the suite, pushing in a huge armoire.

And not a Barrior or B'Amazon was in sight. Except for the tip of a black boot positioned at the bottom of the doorway. The toe pointed to the ceiling, and the heel rested on the blue carpet, as if he was lying on the floor, shot or dead!

“We got your clothes ready for the honeymoon,” Reba said, strutting in wearing a pink spandex bodysuit and matching knee-high boots. Antoine wore a black suit.

The Queen glared at them.