Nude Awakening (14 page)

“She’s a porn star?” someone asked.

“No,” Dani replied, rolling her eyes. “She’s one of their receptionists. Anyway, I have an unedited copy of the next DVD they’ll release later this year! All of us are going to watch it. My cousin told me it’s a film of a fine handsome brutha that just got out of prison. And she said it’s his actual first time doing it! Hold your questions. I know some of you have some babysitter on the clock, so let’s watch this film. Tammy, hit the lights!”

Kendra slid next to Dani on the sofa when the lights went off. “Girl! Ain’t about to waste my time watching no porno film.”

“Kendra, relax please.”

Kendra settled back into the sofa crossing her arms. This is really a waste of my time! I can be home reading my Kindle!

Everyone turned their attention to the flat screen TV. Since the film was unedited, they would be viewing the raw footage. The scene started with a view inside a bedroom. To the left of the screen someone was wrapping a towel around her body.

Her butt is so big! Look at her small waist. Wish I had a body like that. I wonder if her butt is real. I know them perky titties ain’t. Kendra was about to make an excuse to leave when on the screen, Trevon Harrison walked into the bedroom and looked directly into the camera.

NINETEEN

Fort Lauderdale, Florida

Later that night around ten o’clock, a white BMW drop top slowed to a stop in front of Swagga’s mansion. Swagga hurried down to the first floor to meet his guest. Yaffa was knocked out in a deep sleep and Swagga wanted him to stay that way.

Chyna was not surprised when Swagga himself opened the front door. This was their first time meeting since Swagga’s discovery of Chyna’s mixed gender. He fought hard to overlook how sexy Chyna appeared. The high heels, tight miniskirt and tube top with no bra had Swagga lusting if but for a second. Truth be told, Chyna was a dime in the face with a firm fit body.

“You late!” Swagga’s voice boomed.

“I was pulled over for speeding,” she informed him and followed Swagga into his mansion.

Swagga took Chyna to the entertainment room at the far end of the mansion. It was the furthest room from Yaffa’s bedroom.

Chyna sashayed into the entertainment room that was nearly the size of his two-bedroom house. The walls were covered with black and red felt with matching leather furniture placed around the room. There were 40-inch plasma TVs on the walls plus a minibar to the left. Two chrome and black pool tables sat in the middle of the room with chrome plated pool sticks.

Swagga flopped down on the sofa, picking up a wireless remote. He turned the lights off at the bar then sat back folding his arms. Chyna sat on another sofa across from him.

“What did you find out about, Trevon?” Swagga asked, trying to stop his eyes from lowering to the jutting nipple prints on Chyna’s tube top.

“A lot. He just got out of prison back on—August the seventeenth.”

“How much time he do?”

“Fifteen years.”

“Damn! That will make it more believable to expose him as a nigga on the down low when we—you—do your thang with ‘im.”

“Just because he did a lot of time doesn’t mean he’s into men.”

“I don’t give a fuck if he ain’t! We gonna make it so that he is! Now tell me what else you found out.”

Chyna crossed his legs. “Trevon goes to get his car hand washed at a spot in Liberty City. My cousin said he has seen Trevon there every Friday since he got that Jaguar.”

“And what’s your plan?”

“I’m thinking that I can bump into him at the carwash. Start up a conversation and just go from there. My only issue is him being attracted to me or not.”

“He will. Trust me,” Swagga admitted, then regretted his comment.

Chyna smiled. “Do you find me attractive?”

“Bitch, don’t play me!”

Chyna kept smiling. Yeah nigga, you said it right because I am a Bitch!

“Anyway,” Chyna said, blowing off Swagga’s weak reply. “If I can get up with Trevon at the carwash, I’ll see if he’s down to come to my crib.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll try to seduce him. I also have this . . .” Chyna reached into his tote bag and pulled out a small clear liquid in a tiny glass bottle.

“What the fuck is that?” He sat up, peering at the bottle.

“Date rape juice.”

Swagga jumped to his feet. “You used that shit on me!”

Chyna looked up at Swagga. “Didn’t need to.”

“Fuck you!”

“Anytime you want it, you can get it.”

Swagga sat back down. “Fuckin’ faggot!”

“Call me what you like. But you still can’t erase what I did to you. I know for a fact that I sucked your dick better than Cindy!”

Swagga was feeling that Chyna was going to be hard to control. Chyna had too much sass.

“Fuck all this shit, okay!” Swagga fired back. “I slipped up, so fuck it! You said once I pay you, that all this bullshit will be dead.”

“Your—our secret is safe, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll do what you need to be done to Trevon and then I’m gone. Maybe I can come back to visit you once I get my full sex change. How about it? Wanna be the first to fuck me? It will be like breaking in a virgin pussy.”

Swagga stared at Chyna with his emotions brewing. I see right now I’ma end up killing dis faggot ass muthafucka!” When will you try to hook up with Trevon?”

Chyna knew he was pissing Swagga off. “This Friday. I’ll need your help though.”

“How?”

“I’ll need a fly ass whip. I want all eyes on me. I will handle the rest.”

Swagga shrugged. “I’ll have something for ya by Thursday. And film that shit wit’ Trevon.”

“Make sure the ride is white. Cum white is my favorite,” Chyna added.

Swagga was happy when Chyna finally left. He stayed in the entertainment room and found his peace in a bag of weed. Dealing with Chyna was a big regret.

Chyna stepped into his car when Yaffa appeared out of nowhere.

“What are you doing here?” he firmly demanded.

Chyna spun and stumbled back against the BMW. “Damn! You scared me.”

“I know that. Now answer my question.”

Chyna waited a few seconds. “Yaffa, do you get a kick out of sneaking up on a beautiful woman at night?”

“Listen, I’m Swagga’s bodyguard and I need to know when he has a guest over here.”

Chyna shrugged. “He didn’t mention my visit?”

“If he did I wouldn’t be wastin’ my time out here talkin’ to you.”

“I guess you need to take that up with Swagga. But as for you wasting your time talking to me, why does it have to be like that?” Chyna flirted.

Yaffa glanced back toward the mansion. The lights were off in Swagga’s bedroom.

“Are you worried about Swagga seeing you talking to me?”

“Ain’t worried ‘bout a muthafuckin’ thang. What I don’t get is why some women will put up with a man beatin’ on ‘em. Swagga beat the shit outta you and you still bouncin’ on his heels.”

Chyna maintained a straight face at the knowledge of Yaffa not knowing about his gender problems. Umph! Swagga didn’t even tell the man that’s trusted with his life about me! Chyna took a step closer to Yaffa. “I’m not bouncing on his heels and I don’t put up with men hitting me.”

“Okay. Back to question number one. What are you doin’ over here so late?”

“Nothing important.”

“Yeah right.”

“Look, can I thank you for pulling Swagga off of me?”

Yaffa folded his arms. “I was lookin’ out for Swagga, not you. I can’t get paid if he’s sittin’ up in jail for beatin’ your ass.”

“I still want to thank you.”

“Whateva, yo.”

“I’m not seeing Swagga if you think it’s like that,” Chyna replied softly.

“Shit, I can’t tell. Not the way I saw you suckin’ his dick.”

Chyna blushed. “You saw us? How?”

“That ain’t none of your business. Just doin’ my job.”

“Okay, I still appreciate what you did and I’d really like to thank you. A good deed should not go unrewarded.” Chyna took a risk by lightly touching Yaffa’s elbow. “If you want me to reward you, I think we could both find some pleasure behind it.” Chyna’s fingernails skated up Yaffa’s arm.

When Yaffa reached down to adjust his dick, Chyna knew it was a wrap.

Yaffa knew Chyna’s type. A jump off. He fell for Chyna’s advance and was now following Chyna’s BMW in his silver Lexus LX570. They ended up at a city park in Northwest Miami. The park was dark and deserted. The only light was that of the pale moon. Chyna told Yaffa to relax as they walked past the gate and into the park. Yaffa had his .45 out and he had no thoughts of putting it up.

“I think we’ll be okay here,” Chyna said, standing under a mango tree waiting for Yaffa to step around the swing set.

“So what’s up?”

Chyna reached down toward Yaffa’s dick. “I hope you’ll be up.” Chyna squeezed him.

“You on some outdoor freaky shit, huh?” Yaffa smiled, a rare emotion.

Chyna nodded yes. “It’s that time of the month for me. But you can fuck my mouth as much as you like.”

Yaffa began to relax as Chyna’s little hands unfastened his belt. The weather was still warm so Yaffa was not bothered when Chyna pulled his dick out and went to work on him. The deception was a risky rush for Chyna, but it was done. Chyna just hoped that these actions that were done in the dark would stay in the dark.

TWENTY

Sunday, 11:30 p.m.

Coconut Grove, Florida

Trevon stormed into LaToria’s bedroom slamming the door behind him.

“What’s your problem?” she shouted, looking up from the latest issue of Straight Stuntin.

“You’re my problem! Why do you keep finding ways to avoid talking about what’s going on between us?” Trevon stood next to her bed with his big arms folded.

“Why are you yelling?” She threw the magazine down.

“’Cause it seems to be the only way you’ll listen to me! You’ve been gone since . . . eleven o’clock this morning!”

“I’m grown, dammit!”

“Then fuckin’ act like it, LaToria! Last night you got all emotional and shit, talkin’ ‘bout make love to you. And now you acting like ain’t shit happened!”

“Big deal! I got caught up, okay! We fucked without a rubber. What now? We supposed to be in love, huh?”

“You buggin’!” He threw his arms in the air.

She rolled out of bed and got up in his face. “You the one that’s buggin’, nigga!”

“How!” He crossed his arms again.

“How? How, motherfucker. You the one that pulled me back down, remember? I told you to wait so I could get a rubber!”

“Oh, so you saying I took the pussy?”

“Fuck you Trevon!”

“Why are you actin’ like this? All I want to do is talk to you.”

“We ain’t got shit to talk about, okay? We made a mistake last night.”

“A mistake! You call last night a damn mistake! What about this morning? Oh, I guess that’s what you call business, huh?”

“All of it was a gotdamn mistake! I don’t love you! I don’t give a fuck about you, Trevon! Why do you have to try to make this something that it ain’t?”

Trevon grabbed her arm as she tried to walk away. “You’re not running from me this time.”

LaToria snatched her arm away. “Nigga, you betta slow the fuck down! You ain’t the only nigga with a big dick! Ain’t my fault you got wide open on me! And for your info, I been out fuckin’ somebody else. And ain’t no need to look stupid!”

“Well, I guess I better go get my shit checked for STDs since you being a ho off the camera, too.”

LaToria slapped him hard. “Fuck you!” she shouted with tears in her eyes. “Get out!” She pointed toward the door. “GET OUTTA MY FACE!”

Trevon had no idea why she was tripping on him. All I’m doing is trying to treat her with respect. He gave up. I’ll just give her time to calm down, he thought as he walked toward his bedroom.

“No!” She ran to the door. “I don’t want you under this roof no more. Pack your shit and get the fuck out! I hate you!”

TWENTY-ONE

September 26, 2011

Monday, 9:30 a.m. - Miami, Florida

Trevon was eating his breakfast from Burger King inside his car. Last night he had stayed in a motel. The drama with LaToria was still on his mind. On top of that, he had a ten o’clock appointment with his parole officer. Above him, the bullying sun was trying to burst through the tinted sunroof. Trevon had the cool air running, wishing he could postpone the meeting with his P.O. Not gonna happen, he thought. When he finished his food, he turned the car off then headed into the office building.

“I’m here to see Ms. Kendra Paige,” he said when he stepped up to the front counter.

“Umph! You again,” Ms. Nikki Conner said, rolling her eyes. “I see you’re still rude and—” She looked him over. “Gucci’d down again.”

Trevon was not in the mood for her drama. “Good morning, Ms. Conner,” he said with his jaws tight. “I’m here to see my P.O.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sign in and I’ll call up to her office.”

Now I gotta go sit and wait in that dirty ass waiting room! I hate having to check in like I’m a damn kid! Trevon waited impatiently as Ms. Conner called Ms. Paige.

“Hi Ms. Paige. This is Nikki on the first floor. You have a Trevon Harrison here to—” She paused to listen to what Ms. Paige had broken in to say. “Oh. Well, I’ll send him right up.”

Trevon was directed up to Ms. Paige’s office, thankful that he did not have to wait. The sooner it’s over, the sooner I can leave! He stepped off the elevator. Might as well get pissed off some more because this salty ass chick will do or say something to piss me off! Trevon paused. He had to get his mind right. The most important thing was not to piss her off. Turning the ringer off his cell phone, he knocked softly on the door.

Kendra was twisting the top back on her tube of lip-gloss when Trevon knocked on her door. She nearly tripped in her rush to get around her desk. Small ass office! she complained. She composed herself, tidied her fitted dress, and reached up to pat a strand of hair in place. Once she felt she was in order, she pulled the door open.

“Glad you could make it, Mr. Harrison,” she greeted him with her hand extended.

Trevon was caught completely off guard. The first major difference he noticed was the warm friendly smile on Kendra’s face. He was too stunned to accept her hand. The eye shadow, lip-gloss, the hair, the perfume and the tight dress that seemed to turn her curves into a sculpture. He noticed it all, even down to her peep-toed platform heels.

Kendra lowered her hand. Damn! He ain’t even smiling. I’m making a damn fool of myself.

“Come on in.” She ushered him into her office. Taking a risk, she stole a quick look at his crotch.

Trevon sat down as Kendra closed the door. Her perfume was sweet with a subtle peach scent. When she strolled by, the scent turned Trevon’s head in her direction. He had to admit that she was looking good. Yeah,she was looking good at the club too! And she dissed me.

“So,” she said cheerfully once she was seated behind her desk. “How are you doing this morning? I see you’re adjusting well back into the free world.”

Trevon glanced over his shoulder then back at her. “Am I in the right office?”

Kendra kept smiling as she removed her glasses. “Trevon, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Trevon noticed she had called him by his first name. What’s going on? First, LaToria tripping on me. Now my P.O. on some other shit. Must be the sun or something baking folks’ brain.

“I um . . . thought about what you said to me at the club and you were right.”

“Right about what?” he asked, surprised that she had thought about him.

Kendra touched her hair. “I should be trying to help you. I—know I’ve been a challenge to deal with and I’d like to apologize.”

“Are you serious? This ain’t some kind of mental test, is it?” He looked at the ceiling.

“You got some hidden cameras up in here?” he joked.

“If there were, I’m sure they wouldn’t bother you.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” His smile fell off his face.

“Um, you were in prison and I know they had you under twenty-four hour surveillance.”

“Yeah, I was.”

Damn, I let that one slip, Kendra thought, putting her glasses back on. “I want to um . . . change my attitude and see if I can help you with your reintegration.”

Trevon relaxed his tense posture. This is what he wanted. A cool, laid back parole officer who was willing to help him. Trevon looked at her. Was she real? Even with her so-called new attitude, he had his doubts about her. He wanted to see how serious she was.

“So, you want to help me?”

She nodded yes.

“Okay, I need your help finding a place to stay.”

Kendra gasped. “I thought you had a place?” she said, sounding concerned.

“I did, but um, the living arrangements ain’t working out.”

“Care to talk about it? You didn’t get in any trouble, did you?”

“Nah. My roommate, she just felt that—”

“She?”

Trevon nodded. “Yeah. She. Let’s just say that she’d rather be alone.”

Umph! She must be a dumb bitch to put his fine (and I can now add, BIG DICK) ass out on the streets. Kendra could not get over the unedited porno film of Trevon. Keeping her connection to Trevon a secret, she easily convinced Dani into letting her borrow the DVD. After watching the film in the privacy of her bedroom, she saw Trevon in a new form. She had fingered herself to two orgasms while viewing the film. In all, she was open highly on how Trevon could put it down in bed. Even now, she kept looking between his legs.

Kendra snatched her mind from the gutter. “How soon do you need a place to stay?”

“As soon as possible. I had to stay at a motel last night.”

“I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll try to help.”

“Thank you,” he said, wondering why she had yet to ask if he had a job. She actin’ weird as hell.

“I’m really sorry about the other night,” she said, expressing deep regret.

“Nah, I understand. You are my parole officer and I know you have certain lines you can’t cross.”

“I agree.” She smiled. “But that gave me no reason to treat you the way I did.”

Trevon believed her. Maybe I should run with this new attitude she is showing. Yeah, she’s been a pain to deal with, but that was the past. I have to deal with this woman for two years! Okay, she wanna be friends. I’ll roll with it.

“So . . .” he said with a grin. “Let’s say we cross paths again like we did at the club. Would you let me buy you a drink?”

“Publicly, no.” She cheesed. I can’t believe I’m flirting with this guy!

Trevon read between the lines. Publicly no? “So, you’re saying if we was like . . . alone somewhere, you would say yes?”

“Are you flirting with me, Trevon?”

“If I was?”

“If you were, I’d tell you that my workplace is not the right spot.”

“Okay . . . if I was flirting, where would the right spot be?”

Shit! We can do it right now on my desk! Kendra pushed her sexual urge and thoughts aside. She knew she was taking a big risk at losing her job if she was caught getting personal with him. Shit, didn’t I take a big risk once before? Sure did, and ended up being played by Marcus. Kendra reached for an ink pen and wrote down an address.

“There is a nice restaurant up in West Palm Beach. Maybe you should show up around . . . say eightish? Maybe you’ll bump into someone you know. And maybe, she’ll be the one buying you a drink.” She handed him the address with a lustful look in her eyes.

He folded the address, slipping it into his pocket. “Eight o’clock?”

“Eight,” she replied. She would not back down, figuring the odds of anyone recognizing her with Trevon would be slim up in West Palm Beach. The risk could be the same at a spot in Miami, but she just wanted to be extra safe.

Moving back to being his parole officer, she promised to do her best at finding him a place to stay. Before he left, he gave her the info to the motel where he was staying. When it was time for him to leave, she walked around her desk to show him out.

“Take care,” she said and held out her hand. Mmm! I don’t even have to try to undress him with my eyes. I already KNOW what he looks like without any clothes!

“You too.” He shook her hand. Yo! I know she ain’t blushing! She still ain’t ask if I had a job? She got to be up to something. Maybe she’s trying to set me up for real.

“See you at eight?” Kendra held his hand longer than a friendly shake.

“Yeah, eight.” Trevon released her hand after a brief moment of feeling awkward. I might have to think about this shit ‘cause something ain’t flowing right. Buy me a drink! Yeah right! She up to something. Something that won’t be good for me.

Trevon felt at ease riding in his Jaguar. It gave him a sense of control. For fifteen years, in prison he was controlled. If he wanted to go left or right, today it was his choice. His outer looks made it appear that he was fully adjusted back into society. Deep inside, he knew that was not true. In the small motel room, he had woke up at 5 a.m. That was his body still acting on the prison schedule. He had actually waited for someone to call him to breakfast. When Trevon took a shower and washed his arms, he realized he was wearing shower shoes. He left them on, but felt at a low state because he had not thought to put them on, he just did it.

He slowed at the intersection of 22nd Avenue and 62nd Street with the system knocking “I Can’t Wait” by Redman. The traffic was heavy. Trevon waited for the light to turn green. He saw a cheerless looking guy sitting at the bus stop, clad in mismatched colored ragged clothes. That could easily be me. Trevon knew what he had going for himself was rare. Eighty percent of black men being released from prison were back within a year. He thought back to a Positive Thinking course he had taken in prison. The teacher had told him to refrain from what she termed ‘stinking thinking.’ I wonder where her sexy tail at? He grinned.

When the light turned green, he drove off. Suddenly, he hit the turning signal to turn back around. Thoughts about that course pushed his next action. He drove back down 22nd Avenue then crossed over to pull up behind the bus stop. He blew the horn twice, easing the window down.

“Yo, bruh!” He waved the guy over.

The guy looked around, then pointed at himself.

“Yeah, you. Lemme holla at cha’.”

The guy timidly approached Trevon as the sun poured down through a gap in the clouds. Trevon got out of his car. The two men stood within arms reach apart.

“Nice ride you got!” the guy said, nodding at the silent running car.

“Thanks. She’s my baby.” Trevon slid his fingers down the sculpted gleaming white hood. Yeah, I could easily be at a bus stop. Watching cars go by and wishing I had one. Well, I got one and since I know this means struggle, I’ma help him out if I can.

“What is it? A Benz?”

“Nah. This the new Jaguar XJL.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, if you don’t mind. Can I ask where you’re headed?”

“Huh . . . I’m going to the rec center in Liberty City to get something to eat.”

Trevon wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. “What they having?”

The guy looked at Trevon with a strange expression. “Um, collard greens, hot rolls and fried chicken, I think.”

“Times are hard out here, huh?”

“Sure is. I’ve been struggling ever since I got out the joint.”

“You did time?”

“Yeah. Did six years. Been out for almost two years. Hard to get a job.”

Trevon’s attention was briefly drawn to a MetroRail train clacking by overhead on the tracks. In Miami, the train system was built above ground instead of underground like New York.

“Prison ain’t the place for ya, brother,” the guy said. “Whatever you’re doing, legal I hope. Stay at it.”

Trevon could not bring himself to tell the guy of the time he had pulled. This man has been out for almost two damn years! I’ve been out less than three months. How is life fair?

“Hey, my bus coming, rap. I gotta go—”

“Wait!” Trevon looked down the avenue at the approaching city bus. “Um, how about I give you a lift?”

The guy looked at Trevon, then glanced toward the bus. “You ain’t crazy, is you?”

Trevon laughed. “No, my brother.”

The guy shrugged. “What the hell. I always wanted to ride in a Benz.”

“Jaguar.”

“Oh right.”

Trevon eased inside his ride then waited for his new friend to get adjusted in the seat. Trevon introduced himself as he slid the Jaguar back into traffic. He found out his passenger’s name was Marvin and he was forty-eight years old. Trevon was acting off what his teacher had told him on his last day of class. “Do good for others to do good for yourself.” Trevon told Marvin that he wanted to help him out. He first took Marvin to the USA Flea Market and bought him a few pairs of shoes and five outfits. After that, he took Marvin to a soul food joint in the Brownsville area. Marvin thanked him for everything.

Nearly three hours later, around 2 p.m., Marvin directed Trevon to a small duplex apartment with a shabby fence around it.

“God bless you, brother,” Marvin said with tears in his weary eyes. “Ain’t nobody never gave me nothing all my life. Why you do this?”

Trevon gripped the steering wheel. “I could have been in your shoes, Marvin.”

“Could of, but cha’ ain’t,” Marvin pointed out.

Trevon indeed felt better about himself as he pulled off. He gave Marvin $500 and told him to be safe. Back on the road, he settled easily into his element behind the wheel. Feeling the need to just be wholly free, he ended up on I-95 North. On cruise control, he commanded the big-bodied sedan while letting one of his favorite songs play on repeat, “Sky’s the Limit” by Biggie.