Nude Awakening II (24 page)

Trevon was dying to get between her legs and crush. Precum stained his boxers, and she had yet to touch him below his belt. The passion between them moved to another level when Trevon cupped her pussy through the thin panties. She was hot and damp. Tahkiyah's knees got weak as he massaged her sex while sucking her ear.

“Take—” she moaned, clinging to his wide shoulders, “a shower with me first.”

***

“Pick up the phone, Trevon!” Jurnee muttered as she sped west along the East-West expressway. When his voicemail picked up, she ended the call by voice command. Switching lanes, she mashed the gas, rocketing past a green SUV in the right lane. The throaty exhaust note matched the 563 horses under the hood. Jurnee wheeled the attention grabbing SLS over the posted speed limit without thought. At her speed, the chrome rims turned into a blur, giving an illusion of them spinning backward. Her state of mind didn't register the speedometer creeping past 90 miles per hour. She kept pushing the SLS, jumping lanes without using the turn signal. Horns sounded in protest in the wake of the speeding Benz. Trevon was thick on her mind. A single tear broke from the corner of her eye. She gripped the wheel, her foot still adding pressure to the gas pedal. Smoothly, the SLS broke the triple digit barrier.

“Call Trevon!” she shouted at the voice activated Bluetooth system. Tears started to blur her vision.
I have to tell him,
she thought.
If I don't, I'm no better than Kandi, and he—

Before she could finish her thought, two things happened simultaneously that broke her concentration on the road. First, Trevon answered her second call. And with his voice in her ears, a Florida State Trooper appeared behind the SLS with its light bar flashing. Jurnee gasped at the police, and then her speed. For 3.5 seconds, her eyes had left the road while she was moving at 102 miles per hour. When her mind snapped to the present, she stood up on the brakes only five seconds before she rear-ended a moving van.

***

At the same time, Trevon didn't have the time to wonder why Jurnee had hung up. Shrugging, he pulled his socks off and then joined Tahkiyah in the shower.

***

Unbeknownst to Kandi, she was two floors above Trevon at the Mondrian Hotel. She felt troubled with having to face Trevon. Jurnee was right. Running away from Trevon wasn't the answer. Sulking alone in the suite, she lay back on the large bed gazing at the ceiling. Needing
something
to do, she reached for her laptop on the bedside table. She placed it on her stomach, opened it, and then powered it up. Once she logged on, she saw a new e-mail waiting to be read. With a soft touch of the e-mail icon, she waited a mere one second for the e-mail to fill the screen.

To:
[email protected]

 From:
[email protected]
 

 Subject: You and I

 Date: 2/8/12  11:10 p.m.

God's will this message will reach you. I've been meaning to sit down and type this ever since I got your e-mail. There are things I need to tell you face to face, and all I seek is your understanding, for we all make mistakes that we have to live with. In my case, I lived with mine for too long. I hope to hear from you soon. Here's my # 202-914-2018

      

Tahkiyah Bradford

CHAPTER

Twenty-Seven

I Ain't a Killa . . . But Don't Push Me

Fritz looked at his Swiss Hublot timepiece when a knock sounded at the door of his suite. His guest was on time, not a minute late at 4:30 pm.

Getting up from the table, he filled his hand with a new silencer fitted 9-millimeter pistol. The Glock-19 he had used on D-Hot and Brooke Vee was in three pieces, rusting at the bottom of the Biscayne Bay. He treated his used weapons like used condoms. They were only good for a onetime use. Knowing the security was tight at the Fontainebleau, Fritz would still keep his guard up at
all
times. To his surprise, he saw Swagga standing alone out in the hallway. Just to be sure, he looked through the peephole again. Clicking the safety off, he waited to open the door until a middle-aged couple cleared the hall.

“Where's Rick?” Fritz asked Swagga as he motioned him inside with the gun.

“We don't need ‘im,” Swagga replied, looking at the piece Fritz held in plain view.

“What's in the bag?” Fritz glanced in the hallway and then closed the door.

“Money.”

“Get against the wall so I can pat you down and I won't ask twice.”

“Chill, yo! Whut the fuck!” Swagga complained, shoving his hoodie off his head.

Fritz roughly shoved Swagga up against the wall. “Drop the bag and
don't
move.” Fritz held the 9-millimeter against Swagga's spine, while moving the blue leather Louis Stewart bag with his foot. “Why did you come alone?” Fritz asked, frisking Swagga with one hand.

“I can handle my own gotdamn business. And, yo, I thought you was from the islands. Where yo' accent?” Swagga asked with his face against the wall.

“I'm bi-accented,” Fritz said sarcastically. “Turn around and keep your hands on your head.”

Swagga turned to Fritz, masking his face with a mean grill. He stiffened when the tip of the silencer pressed against his throat. It stayed in that same spot as Fritz thoroughly patted Swagga down. Once he was sure that Swagga was unarmed, he relaxed.

“Dis how you do business?” Swagga said, fixing his gear.

“I hate rap,” Fritz told him. “How much is in the bag?”

“Thirty thou.”

“Dump it on the bed. If it's all there—
then
we can talk business.”

“And if it ain't?”

“Then I'll consider you a threat, and you won't live to see tomorrow.”

Swagga snatched the heavy LS bag off the floor and stomped over to the bed. Fritz kept his gun on Swagga until the money was spread out over the bed.

“Okay, have a seat at the table,” Fritz said a few minutes later. Being patient and true to his threat, he
forced
Swagga to count every single bill.

Swagga adjusted his Gucci headband as he joined Fritz at the table.

“I had a flight leaving tonight,” Fritz began. “But I must assume you need something taken care of?”

Swagga nodded while trying to give off the right vibes. Sure, Fritz was looking like a preppy dude in the dress shoes, black slacks, and a green linen shirt, but Swagga wasn't fooled. “It's a nigga by the name of Trevon. He's a porn star.”

Fritz nodded. He picked up a black felt humidor. “Would you enjoy one?” Fritz had opened the humidor, revealing six cheroot Havana cigars.

“Hell yeah!” Swagga picked one out, looking at the square cut on both ends.

“It's a cheroot. It's the way its cut that makes it a cheroot. For example, if it was tapered at both ends, it's a perfecto,” Fritz explained.

“You know your cigars, huh?” Swagga asked.

Fritz smiled. “Every man has his joy. And yours?”

“Phat booty ‘hos,” Swagga said as the Gucci headband slid down his forehead. “So whut up? Can you help me?”

Fritz reached for a gold plated lighter. “When do you need it done?”

“ASAP,” Swagga said, nudging the headband back up as Fritz lit his cigar.

“Why the rush?” Fritz pushed the lighter across the table.

“I'll pay extra if needed.” Swagga lit his cigar. He leaned back in the chair, filling his lungs.

The two Cuban cigars burning, quickly scented the room.

“What has this man done to you?” Fritz asked, surrounded by a thick cloud of smoke.

“A lot. I just need ‘im gone. Done wit'. Period,” Swagga said with the cigar in his mouth.

“If you want it done tonight, it will be ten thousand extra.” Fritz tapped the cigar over the ashtray.

“Not a problem. Just let me know when and where to break you off wit' the rest. Hell, you can still catch your flight tonight.” Swagga held the cigar out. “I think I need to invest in these.”

“We can do a bank wire for half on my laptop,” Fritz suggested.

“Say no more. Let's do it,” Swagga replied eagerly.

Fritz placed his cigar in the ashtray and got up from the table. Swagga took a deep breath, thankful for the cigar helping to calm his nerves. When Fritz left the room, Swagga reached behind his head and under his mane of dreads.

Fritz returned to the table about a minute later with a thin laptop computer. He oddly sat with both hands on the table, looking directly at Swagga.

“You ai'ight, yo?” Swagga asked, smoke flowing from his nose and mouth.

Fritz picked up the silenced 9-millimeter he had left behind. “There was a hit on me once. Back in ahhhhh '06. A guy came to see me, sorta like this. I left the room and left my piece on the table.”

“And what happened?” Swagga asked with a wall of fear building.

“He was armed, but he figured he would get more . . . how you say—street rep by killing me with my own gun.”

“He missed?”

Fritz smiled. “My gun didn't work. I allowed that mistake to ride him for three seconds before I killed him with my second piece that did work.” Fritz laid the 9-millimeter next to the laptop. “You can't trust no man.”

“Man, I'm here to do
bidness
,” Swagga explained. “Fuck all that other shit.”

“I see that now,” Fritz said, opening the laptop. “I'll need your account number. Do you have it?”

“Yeah. Lemme get my wallet.”

Fritz fingers flew over the keyboard as Swagga slid back from the table. “I'll need your—” Fritz froze when he looked up from the screen.

Swagga's tight grip on the Smith & Wesson .22 caliber pistol had it shaking. Fritz slowly raised his hands up. A sense of failure tore at him for underestimating the young rapper.

“Where did you hide it? Oh, the headband.” Fritz smiled. “Behind your head. Under your hair. I'll have to keep that in mind for next—”

Swagga lunged across the table, popping five quick rounds into Fritz's face. With his adrenaline thumping, Swagga ran to the bed and stuffed his bread back inside the leather Louis Stewart bag. He tried not to look over his shoulder at the lifeless body slumped face down on the table. Blood pooled around the laptop edging to the end of the table. Only the sounds of Swagga's heavy breathing sounded in the room. On his way out, he paused to snatch up the box of cigars.

“Won't be no next time, muthafucka!” Swagga pulled the hoodie back over his head. He slipped out the door with the LS bag slung over his shoulder.

***

Nashlly was waiting for Swagga inside her Mustang Boss filing her nails. He scared the piss out of her when he yanked the door open.

“Boy, damn!” She jumped as he slid inside, closing the door and tossing the LS bag in the back.

“Let's roll, baby,” Swagga said with his hands shaking.

He settled low in the seat as Nashlly slowly pulled out of the Fontainebleau parking lot. He was buzzing off that new taste of power. That rush of being invincible had flowed through him when he popped Fritz's top. Killing Fritz would tie up the loose ends. Fuck the bullshit of having to worry about Fritz coming back to blackmail him. Swagga was done with paying others to do his dirt. Yeah, Fritz had taken D-Hot's grimy ass out the scene, but that was over with. If you wanted shit done right, do it yourself! Swagga assumed things would've been done differently, had he done shit
his
 
way
on that Chyna bullshit last year. Bringing Yaffa in the fold had fucked everything up.

Swagga was keeping Nashlly in the blind about killing Fritz. He threw her off by telling her he was hustling that
white
girl on the side. She fell for it, thinking she had a platinum meal ticket in Swagga. Her rapper/D-Boy. Swagga was moved now. He had broken his fear of killing. Next on the menu, Trevon.

CHAPTER

Twenty-Eight

If He Only Knew

Trevon had fulfilled his end of the bet by giving Tahkiyah a full body massage that left her sopping wet. It was forty minutes past 4 pm when she motioned to take things to another level. Her youthful C-cup titties sat upright, circled by large areolas that Trevon tasted with his tongue. At her request, he had rubbed her down from her neck to her feet, butt ass naked. Kneeling on the bed, he took her in his arms, sucking on her nipples. She grasped the stiff flesh below his waist, stroking it up and down. Being somewhat kinky, she still had her designer glasses on.

Trevon
knew
she was a stranger to him. They had just met. To cope with the doubt of whether to fuck her, he saw his actions no different than bagging a chick at a club. Her sexiness was too thick for him to pull away. He molded her breasts in his hands, flicking his tongue like a whip across her bulging nipples.

Tahkiyah's thirst for Trevon flooded her morals and the lines she knew she was crossing. She couldn't tell him that he was the first black man that had touched her since 1988. She couldn't tell him how she was raped while married to another man. She couldn't tell him how she deceived her husband by causing false troubles in their marriage. Nor could she tell him how she managed to stay away from her husband and subsequently give birth to a child she didn't want. She held it all in. After she gave birth to the child that was
forced
inside her, she tried to return to her husband a year later. The marriage failed two months later. Tahkiyah couldn't erase the face of her rapist out of her mind. She came to detest black men, even her innocent husband of nine years.

She trembled in Trevon's arms from her fear and pleasure. The mix of emotions had her head spinning. She needed him to break the bonds to her past. Tahkiyah squeezed and stroked hard between his legs, smearing the slick fluid over his tip and up and down his shaft. Filling her palm with his balls, she enclosed him, pulling a deep moan from his chest. The room was spinning. Her breaths were rushed as she made him lie back on the bed. Her tongue and lips left a wet trail down the middle of his stomach. She swirled her tongue in and around his navel while her hands fondled his hard mast of meat.

Her tongue left a wet path around the hairless base of his erection. She felt the heat of his dick against her cheek warming the side of her face. With her eyes closed, she gently licked upward, pressing her tongue flat against his map of veins. While on her knees, her nipples swayed against his upper thigh.

Trevon was propped up on his elbows, chest heaving as her tongue caressed the underside of his manhood. When her lips reached the tip, she swirled her tongue in his gel of precum, giving him the pleasure he so badly wanted.

“Oooohhh shit!” His head dropped back to the pillow. Her warm mouth sent a stream of tingles from his balls to his toes. She took the blunt head of his tool to the back of her mouth. He raised his head just as she tightened her lips around his dick. She consciously lifted her head, unhurried, causing her lips to stretch from her face. The sight and sensation curled his toes. The instant she reached his tip, she went back down then lifted her mouth again, stretching her lips.

Tahkiyah kept both hands at work. His taste was new and delicious. Up and down, she slobbered on his dick, turning and shaking her head.

“Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmmm.” She lost herself for a minute by sucking hard and fast. Pulling back in control, she took his balls inside her mouth, sucking them gently.

“Shit!” Trevon's ass sprung up off the bed.

She released his balls. “You enjoy that?” she whispered with her hands still working his saliva coated dick.

He nodded, struggling to catch his breath. “You got skills, baby.”

“You ready for some of my knockout?” she asked, stroking his dick.

Trevon didn't answer right away. Her hand job was just as good as her head. “Just tell me how you want it,” he said, sitting up.

When she released his dick, it flopped hard against his stomach. “I don't want to have sex with you.” She smiled, walking her fingernails up the length of his dick. “Nor do I want to make love to you.”

“Mmm, so I guess that leaves one thing.” He reached out and cupped her left breast, running his thumb around her areola without touching her nipple.

“Do you still wish to bet against your endurance inside me?”

“I don't back down from nothing.” He slid off the bed and picked up a condom.

“May I do the honors, please?” She crawled in his direction, licking her lips.

Trevon handed her the condom as his gaze fell on her ass and the two sexy dimples above it. As he stood, she slid him back inside her wet mouth and started sucking. Her titties jiggled back and forth just like her head. Trevon rode the high waves of the continuous ecstasy of being inside her mouth. When she started wiggling her ass, he couldn't stop his urge to spank her. Each time his palm warmed that tight soft bun, she would whimper and moan around his dick. He punished both of her cheeks as her slurps grew loud between his legs.

Tahkiyah stayed up on all fours, sucking longingly with her soft lips. She balled the sheets up in her hands when his fingers slid up and down the moist cleft of her ass. Her pussy was throbbing, and it seemed to gush an ounce of juices when Trevon inserted two fingers between her thin-lipped sugar walls. If Trevon hadn't learned by now, Tahkiyah was clearly showing off her cunning skills of fellatio. In truth, it was a strong fetish that she couldn't go without.

Trevon pushed his two fingers deeper in her hole, stirring them in a quick circle. Her gushy sex popped and snapped around his digits.

“Fuck!” she moaned with spit all around her lips. She slipped him back inside her mouth, rolling her pussy against his hand.

Trevon knew he couldn't last another minute in her wet mouth. When he pulled out of her jaws, she tried to pull him back. They both took a second to settle down.

“You taste too good.” She smiled with her pretty titties dangling.

It took all the self-control she had to keep her lips off his dick as she rolled the condom down his enlarged stick.

“Stand up on the bed,” he instructed her.

Tahkiyah shivered at the amount of moisture smeared between her thighs. Fingering her long hair over her shoulders, she rose to her feet. Trevon slid his hand down the sides of her svelte frame.

“Put your arms around my neck. I don't need no bed to beat that pussy up.”

She did as he asked, gasping when he smoothly picked her up, slipping his strong arms up under her legs.

“Awww fuck!” She threw her head back, suspended against him as his slab pushed up between her syrupy pussy lips. “This dick! Oooohhh fuck! This dick! Yesss.”

Trevon palmed the bottom of her ass, and then he broke her walls down. He went hard, bouncing her up and down his span, digging deep and fast. Her titties wobbled in circles as he fucked her on his feet. With her arms locked around his neck she moaned in his ear, bouncing and whirling herself against his dick. Their wet bodies slapped together in a steady tempo.

“Ooohhh fuck! Oooo God! Trevon, please!” she cried as his dick kept punching up inside her frame. “Mmmm . . . fuck me! Ooohhhh fuck. Mmmm.”

“My pussy now!” he moaned as her titties shook against his chest. “Dis pussy good! Mmmm!”

Up and down, she slid along his dick with sweat forming all over her body. She had lost the bet three minutes ago, but she was oblivious to it. He carried her to the sofa, fucking her pussy every step of the way. She sucked hard on his neck as her soft ass bounced against him. He lowered her on the wide, soft arm of the sofa without pulling out.

With her feet on his shoulders, she cried out his name. Trevon palmed her tits while mashing her out. He long-dicked her gushy hole, bouncing his balls off the back of her ass. She couldn't stop moaning. Her pussy clung to him, smacking and sucking. She reached down to grip her own ass as his dick kept plowing between her legs. With his powerful constant strokes, her glasses finally came off.

He left her speechless with his moves. Before she could utter his name, she was face down and ass up on the sofa. She couldn't toss her ass back hard enough. Her first dick-induced orgasm popped inside her about twenty minutes inside their session. He was drilling her on the floor with her calves pushed back, corkscrewing his hips until she creamed all over his stick.

When they finally made it back to the bed, she drew her knees up beside his hips and bounced on his dick with her mind in a trance. Time meant nothing to her as she begged him to fuck her. Ecstasy. Pure, raw ecstasy filled her body as Trevon banged smoothly at her bushy center. Her fear was gone. It was now replaced with a hunger, and thirst, and a yearning. She later stared up at the man fucking her lights out. This was not a part of her plan. Releasing her grip off her chrome 9-millimeter under the pillow, she used that same hand to kill Trevon with pleasure. She gently cupped his balls and held him in her hands until he could give her no more.

***

Tahkiyah refused to let Trevon leave. After his first nut, she waited with her hazel eyes on the clock for him to rise again. Their explicit marathon of sex continued without pause. Tahkiyah took Trevon inside her again after licking him to his fullness. Her heels bounced off his bare ass as he groaned above her. She met his hard thrusts by jerking her pussy up against him. Biting his shoulder, she gripped the back of his arms and then she fucked him back. Their bodies slapped together loud and repeatedly. His dick drilled in and out of her gushy sex. Rubbing his black skin, she looked down at the flesh that filled her.

“Ohhh fuck! Trevon! Baby, yess!” She rolled her hips, wanting all of him inside her.

Trevon pumped her steadily. On looks alone, Tahkiyah was by far the finest woman he had fucked. Her pretty face was coated with a gleam of sweat beneath him.

With no emotions, he kept throwing himself in and out of her sweet pussy. They mated like animals all over the bed. Never in Tahkiyah's life had a man made her feel irresistible. Chanting his name, she shuddered around his dick and reached a climax that snatched her breath away. Floating in a blissful moment, she tickled his balls when he later groaned in her ear. Her nude body was wet with sweat. They lay together entwined, leaving the room scented with lust and sex.

“You were marvelous,” Tahkiyah whispered breathlessly. “What time is it?”

Trevon reached blindly for his smartphone on the night table. “Um, fifteen minutes past seven.”

She sat up, sliding her fingers through her hair. “Well, I lost the bet.” She smiled at him. “And it was sooo good to lose. How long did we do it?”

“Shit, don't ask me.” He shrugged, sliding his hand back and forth across her hip. “But I know one thing. It was longer than five minutes.”

“So um, are you in a relationship?” she asked, rubbing his chest.

“Nope. I'm single and free.”

“Really? Yes, I want the truth.”

“Ain't gotta lie to you about nothing. So let's get that straight. You're the one that came at me with all that game.”

“It wasn't game.” She pouted.

“Okay, so tell me how you ended up at my crib? I know now that you didn't plan on moving into the spot across the street.”

Tahkiyah wasn't ready to tell him the truth. She couldn't make her next move until one or two things happened:

1.  She could find LaToria.
   
2.  Find out more about Trevon and his link to LaToria.
   

“Does it really matter? Hell, I don't think you're being honest with me. What's up with you and that woman back at your place?” she asked, purposely putting Trevon on the spot.

    “Who, Jurnee?”

Tahkiyah nodded. “I saw the way she was looking at you that day. You're fucking her and I know it.”

“Whoa.” Trevon sat up. “What does it matter to you? Seriously, I don't know you. You don't know me . . .”

“I apologize, baby,” she said. “I guess I just lost my mind. What you did to me was so good. I'm sorry. I had no right to question you like I did. Can you forgive me?”

Man. I hope this chick ain't on no bipolar shit. Pussy was good. But it might be time for my ass to bounce.
“It's all good,” Trevon replied with an easy smile.

“Can we exchange numbers?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “You know where I live, so what difference does it make?”

“Are you leaving?”

“I have to get home to feed my dog.” Trevon stood and then he picked up his clothes.

“Wait.” Tahkiyah crawled toward him. “Before you leave. Can I have you in my mouth again?”

They grew quiet for a second.

“When are you going back home?”

“Soon,” she replied, kissing his stomach. A second later, she took him back inside her mouth.

With her body refreshed and cleaned, she slid up under the new clean sheets. The room service had changed the sheets and left a single long stem rose on the pillow. Tahkiyah was giddy when she realized the romantic gesture was from Trevon. Inside the small card was written: