Nude Awakening II (15 page)

“One last question. How did you manage to avoid any legal issues for killing Swagga's bodyguard last year?”

Jurnee was on her feet, wildly gesturing for Chanel or Grime to cut the line. Trevon shook his head, knowing it was best to face the facts before rumors took over.

“Nashlly, right?” Trevon said into the mic. “Well, last year I was cleared of all charges related to Yaffa's death. It's public record of a report filed by the U.S. Marshals and the Metro Dade Police Department that Yaffa's injuries were self-inflicted. Now, if you want to doubt their report, then that's on you.”

“But—”

“Facts are facts,” Trevon stated calmly. “I know I will always be viewed as an ex-convict by many. But I can't let my past nor how people think of me dictate how I live my life. Yes, it's true Kandi and I were in a relationship, but it didn't work out. That's life and I hold no harsh feelings toward her.”

“Good answer.” Chanel nodded at Trevon. “That's what we get when we do it live without a delay.”

“Oh yeah. Nashlly, be sure to check out my DVD and do spread the word.”

“'Cuse me for a second,” Grime said, adjusting his mic. “We just got a question posted on our Twitter by one of our listeners. But ah—I'm gonna have to let Chanel read it.”

Chanel leaned in Grime's direction to read the question off his laptop. When she sat back up, she couldn't hide her wide grin. “One of your new fans would like to know if you're up to allowing me to ah—measure your dick right here in the studio.”

***

“Why the fuck you tell 'em yo' real name?” Swagga shouted behind the wheel of his Bentley Brooklands.

“Because you didn't say not to!” Nashlly complained. “It ain't like they knew who the hell I was anyway! So why are you tripping? I didn't wanna do the shit in the first place.”

“Did you block your number out? Did I have to tell you that too?” Swagga glared as he slowed the Bentley for a stop sign two blocks from Nashlly's crib.

She sighed. “Yes, I blocked my number. Now can you tell me what this shit is all about?”

“No! Don't even fuckin' worry ‘bout it!”

Nashlly rolled her eyes. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“I'll think about it,” he mumbled his reply.

Nashlly allowed Swagga's sour attitude to slip by without a strong confrontation. She knew it came with the pros and cons of fucking with an A-List celebrity. When she was inside her crib, she stayed tuned into the
“Climax Late Night Talk Show”
on her smartphone. Her curiosity about Trevon turned heavy as Chanel narrated in vivid detail of giving Trevon a hand job in the studio. Chanel announced live that Trevon's dick measured at nine inches. Doubting Trevon's manhood, Nashlly had to download his debut film to see if it was true. Her actions were being repeated by countless other women that needed to see Trevon in action, which spoke louder than Chanel's word.

* * *

Back in Miami, Tahkiyah had everything in place for another one of her private moments. The lights were off inside her lush suite at the Mondrian Hotel. Her nude body tingled with an ache that turned her nipples stiff. She closed her eyes and palmed her titties. This was her secret ritual, and she realized it gained power over her each time she did it. Turning to her side, she flipped her laptop open. Within a few seconds she was back on a porn site listed as
Black Sexxx.

Her eyes scanned the list of fantasies she could indulge in.

She clicked
oral sex
,
and then she discovered a link to fellatio. All of the videos featured black on black sex. Rolling to her stomach, she previewed a thirty second clip of a video before she downloaded it. Tahkiyah's beautiful face was lit by the screen. She squeezed her thighs tight and pressed her nipples against the soft, royal blue satin sheets. As soon as the download was complete, she touched the play icon to start the twenty minute video.

The film began with a topless big breasted black girl in a hot tub stroking a man's penis. Her titties wobbled with the slightest movements. Tahkiyah stared at the screen and watched the girl twirling her tongue all over the thick headed penis. Her pussy throbbed between her clutched thighs as the girl started sucking on the hard black dick.

“Ummmm, shit yeah! Suck that dick!” Tahkiyah moaned, watching the girl and the dick she was sucking. From a side view the film showed a close shot of the girl engulfing the dick at a stabilized pace. Tahkiyah started touching herself by slipping a hand under her . Whimpering, she circled her hips instinctively while fingering her moist pussy. She would give anything to have a black man in her mouth. Catching her totally off guard, Trevon slid into her thoughts just at the tip of her climax.

***

After the interview, Janelle called Trevon first to offer her congratulations. She informed him that his next film would be moved up to next week. The interview had proven to be a wise choice as Janelle told him of the spike in the number of hits to the AEF website. Tonight alone, she was sure his videos were purchased and downloaded around 800 times. Jurnee later proved that she was serious about Trevon's career. Knowing he would begin his three-day film shoot next week, all sex was halted. Knowing how strong temptation could lure her in bed with him, she made the decision to sleep alone.

Trevon didn't make a big deal about her choice. Besides, there was always tomorrow.

***

LaToria felt a twinge of hope that Trevon didn't hate her. Listening to his voice stirred her emotions for Trevon. Unable to take the hurt, she turned the show off just after Chanel spoke about his penis. Hiding her hurt, she rushed from the tub into her bedroom, where she remained quiet. She dried off and dressed in her pajamas as she slid under the thick green quilted comforter and sheets. Closing her eyes, she squeezed out a stream of tears.
God, please help me make things right with Trevon.
She wiped her eyes in this dark bedroom that she shared with Martellus. Silence later proved that she was alone. Not caring about Martellus' whereabouts, she curled up with the sincere thought of the only man she truly loved, Trevon.

CHAPTER

Sixteen

Watch and Learn

January 24, 2012

Tuesday, 12:30 am – Coconut Grove, Florida

Trevon was outside waxing his XJL in the driveway when Jurnee came out of the house. It was a blue, cloudless day with the temperature in the low 80s.

“You finally got out of the bed, huh?” he said, squatting down to wax the front bumper. When she didn't answer, he glanced in her direction.

She stood with a frown on her sexy face, her arms folded under her large breasts. “You trying to go back to prison?”

Trevon rose to his feet. “What kind of dumb ass question is that? And what's wrong with you?” he said, squinting from the sun in his face.

“Ain't nothing wrong with me!” she snapped.

“Gotta be for you to be coming at me all sideways and shit. Now what's up?”

Jurnee sighed as she fought to manage her temper. “I found that gun yesterday when I was getting Kandi's shoes from under the bed. I should've told you yesterday. But—what are you thinking about, Trevon?” A look of hurt eased into her expression.

Trevon shook his head and then dropped the waxing cloth on the hood of his sedan. “I need it, ai'ight.”

“For what?” she said, giving him a slighting look. “I'm all for the gun rights and stuff. But Trevon, you're a felon and—”

“You don't need to remind me about that shit!”

“Obviously, I do since you got the damn thing!” she stated, moving her hands to her waist. “If I didn't care about you I wouldn't be having this conversation with you.”

“My life isn't—it ain't all peaceful like yours, okay? I got shit I gotta deal with, and if it comes to me using a gun. Then it is what it is.”

“Do you even realize what you're saying? Tell me. If you could do it all over, would you have killed that teacher?”

“Damn right I would! That muthafucka raped my little sister, so fuck him! And no I don't regret it! I did my time. He's dead. So as far as I'm concerned we fuckin' even!”

“You don't mean that, Trevon.”

“The hell I don't!”

Jurnee tried to understand his mindset, but she came up short. “How can you become what you want to be by remaining what you are?”

“What the fuck am I, Jurnee?” he said, gesturing. “Can you tell me that since you wanna preach to me?”

“I'm not preaching to you, so don't try to play me like that. Hell, if you don't give a fuck about your freedom then why should I?”

“Shit, I don't remember asking you to!”

“You know what. Ain't got time for this,” she said, shaking her head. “Are you going to get rid of that gun or what?”

“No. I'm not gettin'—no!”

Jurnee gasped. “So that's your decision?”

“Ain't gotta repeat myself.”

“Fine! As long as you want to be a gangsta and all that, then you can do it by your damn self!”

“And what the fuck is that ‘pose to mean?”

“How about I just show you what it means!” She gave him another hard look and then turned, storming back inside the house.

“Whatever! You wanna leave, burn the fuckin' road up!” he shouted. Balling his fist, he turned facing the street and cursed. Then he snatched the waxing cloth off the hood of his Jag, slinging it across the driveway. Holding his head in his hands, he closed his eyes and took a few breaths to clear his mind. Trevon needed his space, so he slid behind the wheel of the XJL and sped off, squealing the rear tires. He didn't give Jurnee a second glance as he left her behind. If she was there or not when he returned, he just didn't give a fuck about it. Driving with no set destination, he was forced to think about his life and the words Jurnee had just spoken to him. Cruising north on 22nd Avenue, he thought deeply on the man he was and the better man he wanted to be.

***

Later around 3 pm, Trevon was pulling from a gas station off 79th Street when he received a call from Kendra. It rang four times before he answered.

“What's up Ms. PO?” he said, checking the lane behind him before he merged into traffic.

“Somebody got some jokes today.” She laughed. “How are you doing?”

“Surviving. Just taking it day by day.”

“We're all doing that these days to tell you the truth.”

“True. But some days shit just seems to get out of hand.”

“You should just let some things be. Look. I was wondering if you can meet me at Vic's. It's a new soul food spot on Collins Avenue near the Marlin Hotel. The food is off the chain!”

“Uh, what time you trying to be there?”

“Five thirty. I hope you can make it.”

“You paying?”

“Nope. You are. I paid for our first date, remember?”

He grinned. “I see you got jokes today too.”

“So will you be joining me?”

“It's a date.”

“I was hoping to hear that. Oh, and Mr. Harrison. Don't be late this time, okay? If I have to come looking for you, you won't like it,” she said, good-naturedly.

***

Trevon arrived at Vic's ten minutes before 5:30 pm. After parking his car, he spotted the Bentley GT that Kendra drove sitting near the entrance of the restaurant. Hoping he wasn't underdressed, he entered the cozy restaurant wearing a pair of wheat colored Timberland boots, black Gucci jeans, and a white tank top. The eighteen tables were all occupied, and the smell of soul food made Trevon's stomach growl. Scanning the faces for Kendra, he was caught off guard when someone tapped on his shoulder.

“You walked right by me,” Kendra said as Trevon turned around. “C'mon, I'm ready to order my food.”

“How long you been here?” he asked, enjoying the sight of how her backside was filling out her white jeans.

“Not long.”

They took a seat at the green cloth covered table near the tinted window. The wall behind Trevon was covered with framed pictures of prominent black folks. Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, President Barack Obama, Desmond Tutu, Maya Angelou and many others.

Kendra glanced up from the menu to see Trevon studying the pictures over his shoulder. “Who's in that picture above Nelson Mandela to the right?” she quizzed him.

Trevon turned in the chair. “That's Frederick Douglass. He was a writer and fought to end slavery. In fact, he escaped from slavery.” He turned back to the table. “Didn't think I knew that, did ya?”

“I must admit that you're correct.” She smiled.

“Ai'ight, my turn. Who's in the picture that's below Oprah?”

“Hmm . . . let me guess. Would it be the author of
Roots,
Alex Haley? Born in 1921 and laid to rest in 1992.”

Trevon placed his smartphone on the table. “Okay, we both know our history and stuff. Now, let's order some of this good ass food I'm smelling.”

Trevon kept his fitness in mind by ordering the grilled chicken over a fried one. He explained his reason to Kendra by pointing out that the grilled chicken was loaded with protein but low in carbs. Along with the six-ounce grilled chicken breast, he ordered a side of steamed spinach and one baked sweet potato. Since Kendra wasn't too pleased with her size, she figured today would be as good as any to start eating right. She ordered the same as Trevon.

Before the food came, they spoke about the topics of their life. Kendra admitted that she was ready to get back to work. She also told Trevon that she was officially done fucking with Marcus aka Swagga.

Midway through the meal, Trevon watched as a mixed couple entered with two small kids in tow. What Trevon saw was an item that was out of reach. A family. He was still dealing with LaToria and the way she had left him. His choice of emotions were limited, sorrow or anger. He ran with the latter, having more comfort by not dealing with matters of the heart.

“You okay?” Kendra asked as one of the little kids waved at Trevon.

Shifting in the chair, he nodded yes. “I was just wondering what it would be like to have a child.”

“It's a major responsibility,” Kendra said. “The one heavy burden is trying to be perfect. You know. You trying not to do no wrong in front of your child.”

“How's your little one doing? Did she like the canopy bed we put together?”

“She's doing great. Just wanting every toy she sees on TV. And that bed, she treats it like a trampoline with her spoiled behind.”

“You ever plan to have another kid.”

Kendra glanced down at her plate. “I doubt it.” She shrugged.

Trevon waited a few seconds to get his words in order. Clearing his throat, he leaned forward a bit. “How well do you know Swagga?”

Kendra lifted her right eyebrow. “Uh, he's my baby daddy. I know him very well. Why do you ask?'

“Look. All that shit that happened last year—”

“It's over with, Trevon,” she said, becoming upset.

“Wait,” he said, reaching across the table for her hand. “Just hear me out, okay? Please. I just need to share something with you.”

“Something about Marcus?”

“Yeah,” he replied after a short pause.

Kendra wanted to pull her hand back but she didn't. His contact reminded her of the two passionate times they had been together. She would never forget how full and loaded Trevon was when he was deep inside her wetness. Blinking, she pushed the sexual thoughts from her mind, and then told Trevon to speak his mind.

Trevon started from the beginning, telling her about what happened after he left her house last year. Kendra showed no emotion as Trevon admitted that LaToria had popped up at his front door.

“. . . After we had sex, she went home to get some things so she could spend the night. Well, she left her phone at my place and when I found it, I saw a voice message from Swagga.”

“And?”

“He was telling LaToria to turn over some footage of him and Chyna. He assumed LaToria was down with some type of scheme. Told her to leave her phone in the mailbox. Said Yaffa already killed Chyna and Cindy and she was—”

“I don't believe you, Trevon,” she said, pulling her hand back. “Swagga ain't shit. I'll tell you that my damn self. But he beat the case, and plus, where is the motive? Yaffa, he just—”

“I got the motive, Kendra,” Trevon pressed. “All that bullshit that went down that night was because he didn't want his secret to get out, okay? He tried to burn LaToria alive for something she didn't even know about,” Trevon said desperately.

“So how did her name come up, huh?”

“I don't know. Hell, LaToria don't even know.”

“So what's the motive? What's Marcus got to hide that I don't know about?”

Trevon picked up his smartphone. “When Chyna and Cindy were killed, there was a guy in the closet.”

“And you believe that?”

“This is what I believe.” Trevon slid his smartphone across the table. “He sent me these two videos of Swagga and Chyna back on Christmas. You can see it for yourself.”

Kendra shook her head, refusing to touch the phone. “I don't care to see him fucking another woman, okay!” she asserted hotly.

Trevon made eye contact with her and slid the phone against her hand. “Chyna . . . isn't a she.”

Kendra averted her eyes to the ceiling, sighing. She held a ton of doubt toward what she heard. Since actions spoke louder than words, she picked up the phone to get to the bottom of this bullshit. Whatever secret Trevon assumed was hanging over Swagga's head, she was going to find out. With her mind twisting on what she was about to learn, she pressed
Play
.