Sex in the Hood Saga (57 page)

Trina Michaels could not believe that those ghetto pimps were pulling off this pyrotechnic feat. Her whole story was ruined, thanks to a lying thug named Rip Masta, an incompetent FBI joker named Rick Reed, and a Bonnie and Clyde team who had outsmarted everybody.

“Incredible.” Her cameraman gasped as he stood beside her, outside the TV truck, shooting video of the twenty-foot-high wall of fire.

Sure, this would make spectacular story in itself, but it was nothing like what she'd envisioned for her exposé on Babylon and the capture of Victoria Winston. Was she even still inside there? How long would this fire burn?

She dialed Rick on his cell phone. “Have you heard from Rip Masta? Or did he just fuck you up the ass?”

Two helicopters hovered nearby, but they couldn't get any where near those flames.

“Gunfire!” Trina screeched.

“Snipers on the roof,” the cameraman said, aiming his camera up where the orange glow of the fire illuminated the black tips of guns aiming down at federal agents still standing on the streets around the building.

Trina ran back into the unmarked TV truck.

“Shit!” She had dropped her phone. She'd thought she was so smart, orchestrating this story, using her body to get what she thought would be the scoop of the century. Now, she felt like a stupid, good for nothing, bitch. She was fucked.

The siren blared as Emcee Sexarella and her crew hurried down the stairwell with mobs of other spectators. An announcement played over and over on the speaker system, “To escape the raid, proceed down the stairs to the underground tunnels. They will take you to a nearby nightclub, a park, and an outdoor concert pavilion. Blend in with the people there for a while. Then discreetly make arrangements to get picked up.”

Sexarella's head throbbed. “We all drunk and fucked up, how we gon' do all that?”

“Better 'n gettin' locked up,” her Stud said playfully. “Gotta hand it to my man Knight though. He planned it out, an' took care o' his peeps in case of emergency.”

“What they got us on?” Sexarella took off her high-heeled boots so she could walk faster down these damn stairs.

A girl laughed. “Prostitution, drugs, gamblin'—”

“Guurrrl, shut the fuck up!” Sexarella said playfully. “Now, where we gon' party at when we get the fuck outta these damn tunnels? Guuurrrlll, I hope it ain't no rats up in here.”

Babylon was burning behind her, or at least so it seemed, with the ring of fire around the building they had just escaped. The rat-tat-tat of guns echoed off the fire-lit sky. The screams of people in the stairwells and that deafening siren still rang in her ears.

The Queen was shell-shocked but not surprised.

Every minute for Alice in her sexy Wonderland had gotten more erotic and enticing from the first jump into what she'd thought was a terrifying black hole a year ago. But suddenly, over the past month, erotic, and enticing, had nose dived into sinister, and scary. So the turn of events today, her wedding day, was just following that trend.

She stared straight ahead at that boat about twenty feet away in the marina behind The Playhouse. That would be her magic carpet ride up and out of this Terrorland.

She gripped Knight's hand harder as they ran across the lawn toward the water. CoCo, Jamal, Ping, and Pong clustered close as they sprinted.

The marina lights were out, but the fire cast a bright orange glow over the boats and the black water.

Her lungs ached as she gasped for breath, and her toes throbbed from running down the stairs in stiletto boots.

Finally, their feet pounded onto the wooden dock. To her right and to her left, the fire ring burned all the way to the water's edge. Knight had never told her about this medieval looking defense tactic. As long as it was keeping the bad guys out long enough for them to escape, she didn't care. But what about all those police boats, Coast Guard patrols, and who knew what else was lurking out on the river?

Yes, she could hear her Knight speaking again on their supernatural love connection.

The crew on the yacht was pulling in the bumpers and the ropes, ready to speed away as soon as they jumped on board. They stepped onto a plexiglass lip at the back, which was strewn with ropes, boogie boards, and scuba gear. It led to two sets of sliding doors.

Knight hurried them through one door, down into the plush living room area, and the boat took off.

“We're safe,” Knight said, breathing hard. He looked pale, dark circles ringing his bloodshot eyes.

If anything had happened to him back there, she would've made like Juliet and followed Romeo to heaven. Hopefully they were on their way to doing that right now. On Earth. She needed a long hug and to make love to her husband.

Knight walked to a sleek, wooden desk built into the flat screen TV console. He pulled out his laptop and huddled with Jamal as they typed quickly and spoke softly.

“What the fuck type of business could you possibly be doing right now?” she demanded.

They ignored her.

So The Queen and CoCo sank into the suede couches, closing their eyes, catching their breath. Ping and Pong stood by the door, securing the outside.

A deeply tanned crewman dashed in. “Everybody into the phantom room,” he ordered, pushing a silver sconce on the wall that made a doorway appear in the beige suede wall. Inside was a windowless room ringed by low, cushioned benches. “The Coast Guard and FBI are boarding.”

Knight leaned over The Queen, kissing her in bed. The sleek, dimly lit master suite was silent except for the soft hum of the engines beneath them as they sped south down the Detroit River toward a better forever.

“Baby girl,” Knight whispered, “I wanted you to wear your wedding gown as I make love to you for the first time as my wife.”

Her eyes sparkled and she smiled. She wrapped her legs around the backs of his knees and said, “I'd rather wear my birthday suit.”

She giggled as Shane throbbed against her thigh. Then she asked, “How did you shoot Duke like that so his blood didn't splatter on me?”

“Baby girl,” Knight said softly, “I want you to push a delete button in your head, starting with anything that happened before this minute. Forget all about today. Everything.”

“Then I want you to promise me that you're okay,” she said. “You look pale. And something in your eyes doesn't look right.”

Knight's heart pounded. The fist of stress was clenching his chest worse than ever. He kept telling himself it would go away as soon as they got to the beach. He just had to stop that ringing sound in his head and that fuzzy feeling in his brain. “Baby girl, you know I've hardly been sleeping, trying to get everything together.”

“No, there's more to it that you're not telling me. Are we still in danger? Are the feds still looking for us? I mean, I've never heard so many helicopters in my life.” She glanced up at the ceiling. The chop of helicopters sounded close. The silvery circles of their spotlights flashed now and again on the closed curtains. “See? You look just as worried as I feel. You're not telling me something, just like you didn't tell me about all that shit today.”

Knight pressed his mouth to her moving lips. They stilled. Because there was much more to come that he wasn't about to tell her.

Somewhere between this bed and those double French doors leading out to the little patio and the water, she'd figure it out and help them reach nirvana. He could call it the final test if he wanted to, but by now he knew that she was committed to him forever, no matter what.

Her lips parted. And her tongue, reaching into his mouth, let him know that she'd much rather make love. She reached down and wrapped her hand around Shane. “This is my lifeline,” she moaned, stroking his dick. “I never want to live without you, Knight.”

“You won't ever have to, baby girl. Ever.” His mouth wrapped around her open lips, their tongues twirling in a way that made him moan.

But the roar of boats beside them and the beating chop of the helicopter above made Knight's heart pound and ache. His lungs squeezed. Head spun. Limbs felt light and tingly.

Her face blurred.

“Baby girl,” he whispered weakly. No, he had to make love to his Queen as this happened. He knew she was ready; she was always wet as an ocean. So, just like the first time, this last time, he would make her cum with one stroke, and it would all be over. For both of them.

With the stealth and aim that made him who he was in business, in life, and now in bed with his wife, he grasped the backs of her knees, and pushed them forward.

“Yeah,” she moaned, tickling her fingertips to the sides of his jaw and staring into his eyes.

He thrust Shane into that hot, tight, slippery paradise. Leaned his bare torso over her, and connected his lips to hers.

All in a split second.

Her body went limp and she shivered all at once. A soft little moan surged up from her soul letting him know she was cumming with one stroke.

He pulled his lips back just enough to whisper into her mouth, so that the air in his lungs would mix with hers as they took their dying breath. “We're going to heaven together, baby girl.”

“Oh, yeah,” she moaned deeply, sucking on his bottom lip. She was panting, and breathing his air deep down.

His heartbeat was so out of whack, it was making static in his ears. Yeah, his dick felt phenomenal inside his Queen, but every stroke was sapping his energy. The roar in his ears grew louder. Or was that a chopper? Was he hallucinating that voice that said, “Come out with your hands up.” Knight's heart was exploding with panic and passion all at once.

He thrust harder and she sucked his breath in deeper. Her eyes were closed, and her body was one with his. He was now safe.

He envisioned the tight pink ball of muscle that was his heart. He imagined it never hurting, never making him worry. He imagined it still and peaceful, his spirit floating up with The Queen's soul up to an eternal playground where they could make love for infinity. He closed his eyes and let that fuzzy, roaring sensation. A numb like, tingling sensation took over his mind and body.

And suddenly his heart stopped hurting.

“Knight!” she screamed. Shane was still inside her, hard as a rock, pulsating like he was cumming. “Knight! Wake up!” She pressed her face into his neck, to feel for his pounding pulse. The hot skin against her face was still.

“Muthafucka!”

The roar of boats around them, those damn choppers overhead, and the rage and horror in her head fueled her body as she ran out through the double French doors. She did not feel the chill of the September night on her bare skin as she stepped onto the three-foot ledge designed for watersports. It was smooth plexiglass with a lip that went into the water.

Tonight it would serve a more morbid purpose. She kicked open the gate leading to the black water. From the ledge, she grabbed a boogie board and some rope. She threw them into the room. Then she yanked Knight's arm, to pull him off the bed, but his 275 pounds and six foot, seven inches of African god did not budge. So she pulled harder.

The clock on the nightstand said 3:05 a.m. Someone on the crew had to be awake, driving this boat. But why all the frantic footsteps upstairs? Did they hear her scream?

The Queen laid the rope on the floor under the boogie board. She found superhuman strength to pull Knight off the bed, and onto the board. She tied the rope around his chest then dragged him through the doors onto the ledge.

She felt dizzy from all those boats zig-zagging around them, the choppers, the floodlights, and that amplified voice saying, “Come out with your hands up!” She was so glad the crew wasn't coming down here to bother her.

The Queen positioned his legs so they were already in the water. He was facing up on the boogie board, slippery against the plexiglass. Her whole body trembled as she laid on Knight so she was facing down, pressing her pregnant belly into the warmth of his. With trembling hands, she tied the rope around her waist, fastening it on the small of her back.

She hummed their wedding song as she pressed her ear into the silence of his chest, where his heart should have been beating. Riding him like a surfboard, she pushed her palms into the plexiglass and wrapped her arms around his beautiful, dark-chocolate muscles.

And together, as one, they slipped into the icy black infinity.

The fresh-cut pineapple felt sweet and cold on her tongue, but Knight's fingertip was soft and warm as The Queen bit down.

“Gotcha,” she giggled as they lay side by side on the plush chaise. The turquoise water stretched to infinity before them as the sun sizzled on their bare backs and asses.

Knight loved how she sucked his finger into her mouth as he flipped her on her back.

“Oooohh, yeah,” she moaned, trembling as her pussy pulsated around Shane. “Make me cum with one stroke every time.”

“Sssshh, Mommy,” he teased, “don't wake baby Prince.”

They glanced over at the white bassinet in the shade of a palm tree. His eyes were closed tightly on his plump, beige face; the gentle ocean breeze jiggled his wild shock of black curls. Knight's whole body tingled with pleasure.

This was Manifest Destiny, live and in color.

He tingled even more with the sexual, emotional, and spiritual thrill of it all. He had all the money he needed in the bank, thanks to Jamal's agreement to buy Babylon and keep it going for the right reasons. His body was relaxed; the chest pains had disappeared the moment they had arrived here on this private island a year ago. All thanks to Ping and Pong, who'd executed the underwater rescue a year ago with perfect precision.

They had plucked him and The Queen from the black depths of the Detroit River, put them on the cigarette boat, then whisked them to yacht number two, a short distance down the river. Knight didn't die; he merely passed out with relief that they'd made it out of Babylon alive. And once The Queen regained consciousness on yacht number two, and he'd explained Manifest Destiny, she'd been thrilled to learn that a glorious, safe new future awaited them.

Now Ping and Pong were here on the island, up at the luxurious house just a short walk up the trail from this beach. Knight's mother was loving her private cottage nearby.

“Make love to me all day,” The Queen whispered, “my beautiful African god named Knight.”

“Love you to the infinity,” he whispered as he thrust gently and stared into her lusty eyes. “Right here in paradise, baby girl.”