Red Light Special (3 page)

Kenyatta grabbed Monday by her neck and pushed her into the corner of the room. Her words cut through him. He squeezed the sides of her throat. “Who the fuck are you talking to?” He squinted at her, his veins thumping from the sides of his smooth bald head to his thick neck. “Why would you say some shit like that?”

“You need to learn to tell the truth! I wanna know where you’ve been!”

“Let you know the truth? You can’t handle the truth, so don’t fuck wit’ it!”

“You don’t know what I can handle!”

“All right, since you want the truth, let me give you the uncut version. You and I both know that it doesn’t matter how many women I fuck, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He pointed to her face. “I’d have to leave yo’ ass for this shit to be over, and I ain’t lettin’ you go. We’ve come too damn far for you to be falling apart. Shit happens and we have to straighten the motherfucker out—”

“Straighten what out?” She tried to wiggle free from his tight embrace.

“We are a team, so if I lose, you do too!” Doing his best to calm himself, he released his grip on her throat and roughly cupped her chin. “And I need you now more than ever. We’ve been together too many years to let bullshit get in between what we have.”

Monday stood there, tears running down her face. She knew this was about more than what he was saying; she just didn’t know what. Not wanting to deal with this any longer, Monday sniffed as she pushed his hands off her and walked away from him.

His eyes trailed behind her. Even in a moment of distress Kenyatta could never deny Monday had a beautiful body. He watched her nipples protrude through her flesh-colored bra as she crawled back into bed.

“Monday, I need you.”

Silence.

“You have nothing to say?”

She didn’t answer and instead placed her sleep mask over her eyes and turned away from him.

As Monday settled her head into the goose-down pillow, Kenyatta went into the master bath, removed his clothes, and stepped into the shower.

As the water slid over his broad shoulders, he thought about all of the things that had happened last night.

He’d called in his cleanup guy, Tracy, an ex-cop on his personal payroll whom he’d hooked up with promotions and kickbacks, to come over to the scene and clean up everything: mop up the blood and move the body.

Perhaps whoever killed Eve really wanted him dead and she just happened to be there. Then there was the question of how they’d gotten into the apartment, when they’d gotten there, and how they even knew the apartment existed when it wasn’t even leased in his name.

He knew he had enemies: the disgruntled employee, Charlie, he’d fired because Charlie didn’t know how to shut the fuck up and questioned the city’s deficit and budget just a little too much, the whistle-blowing cop Kenyatta had fired because he told the media how the state police in Jersey arrested Kenyatta at a Korean sex parlor and that he used the city’s money to pay for the coverup.

Kenyatta swallowed and a million questions took over his mind. He let the water stream over his bald head and run down his face and body. After drowning in his thoughts a half-hour too long he turned the water off, walked out of the shower, and wrapped the bottom half of his body in a plush white towel.

Monday’s back faced him when he returned to the bedroom. It was daylight, but only a small portion of the sun shone into the room and on the bed because the curtains were drawn.

She could hear him coming behind her. She shut her eyes tight because she wasn’t in the mood to argue and she wasn’t in the mood to think; she just wanted to be left alone.

“Monday,” he whispered, his warm breath hitting the base of her neck. He ran his hands along the side of her thick hourglass frame and began to kiss down the center of her back. Though his kisses felt good, she was determined not to let him know. Besides, these were the same lips that had probably been off last night caressing his mistress.

“Don’t,” Monday said, shaking her head.

“Don’t fight it.” He slid his wet and warm tongue down the center of her back and started pulling off her bikini panties with his teeth, his lips sliding down her butt cheeks. Her mind and her mouth were resistant, but her body was insistent and her hips lifted just enough for him to pull her underwear all the way down over her feet and toss them to the floor. He turned her over toward him and slid her bra straps off her shoulders. “Monday.” He squeezed her nipples and kissed the left side of her neck. Slipping her sleep mask off, he said, “I’m your man and I need you to ride this with me.”

“But I don’t even know,” she said as he slid his fingers into her slippery slope, “what I’m riding anymore. You don’t love me.”

“I love the hell outta you. Let me tell you something.” He massaged her clit while looking her dead in the eyes. “You think I’m going to let something come between me and you?” He took her bra off and held her breasts together, alternating the kisses he gave her nipples. He continued to whisper, “We’ve been…together…for ten years,” in between words he sucked her breasts, “built…our…whole life…together.” She could feel his hardness pressed against her thigh as he untied the towel from around his waist.

She ached with desire as he cupped her breasts with his palms and slid down her belly.

Monday wanted desperately to fight against how good she felt as his tongue rocked her body, but she couldn’t.

“I don’t deserve you.” He danced on her jumping clit with the tip of his tongue. “You’ve been perfect, and I haven’t been all that you needed me to be.” He licked.

“I owe everything to you,” Kenyatta continued, his tongue feeling like sweet heat. “And if you think I’m going to let something fuck up my marriage, then you’re wrong.” He sucked her cream as if it were butter melting in his mouth. Never had he handled her clit as methodically as he did now. She pulled on the corner of the sheet and started to moan then scream.

“That’s right, baby,” he said with assurance. “Scream. I want you to scream. This is my cream.” He licked inside her.

“This is all my cream.” He sucked her candy until his mouth was sticky and full.

“Kenyatta,” Monday moaned.

“What you want baby—tell me?”

A million thoughts of how she needed to push this motherfucker off of her and simply bounce ran through her mind. Monday knew she didn’t need to analyze, she didn’t need to wonder why, how, or where all of this went wrong; she simply needed to gather what she could and leave. But she couldn’t, and it was nothing she could do or knew how to do; especially with her pussy turning to orgasmic pudding in his mouth.

He blew up and down her soaking lips, taking his tongue and licking the butterscotch juice from each of them; making her thighs shake like butterflies and the muscles in her shins tighten like spasms. Monday wondered if she’d always have a Jones for him or if she’d be able to find a way to break away and detox on her own. But as he flipped her over, tossed her salad, and ran his pulsating dick over her plump ass, over her slit, and between her erotic lips she knew at this moment she would forever be addicted.

She braced the edge of the bed and winced as they eased into what had become one of their favorite positions and began fucking her with such force and speed that it was evident he was on a mission.

“This what you wanted?” He reached his hand under her belly and cupped her breasts. “Look how wet this shit is, and you tryna act like you can do without this dick.”

Monday continued to fight with silence, but the screams deriving from the base of her throat were taking over. Not to mention that the slapping of his balls across her ass caused her whole body to shiver and melt into creamy pieces.

“Fuck!” Kenyatta bit his bottom lip, doing his best to change his focus from the nut rushing to his tip and instead concentrate on teaching her a lesson. He could feel Monday’s pelvis begin to contract as she arched her back and threw her ass directly in the pit of his shaft.

A wicked smile ran across his face, “Oh, you want this dick now?”

Monday didn’t respond, instead her body battled with her mouth’s involuntary moaning and groaning.

“Tell me you want it.”

The battle continued.

“Say it!”

Despite her fight, she was losing like hell, as lustful ooohes and ahhhhs forced their way through her stubborn throat.

“Say it.” He stroked, pounding her in a heated succession.

Nothing.

“Oh, you wanna act like you don’t appreciate a motherfucker. Ai’ight,” he sniffed, “since you don’t give a fuck…” he hit her with one last stroke and then pulled out.

“Stop playing.” Monday turned over on her back, grabbed his dick, slid it back in, and gyrated her hips.

“I knew you wanted this dick. Now
tell me
you want it.”

Silence.

“I swear yo’ ass is stubborn. I see I’ma have to slide out again.” He started to pull toward the base.

“Uhmmm…Kenyatta…don’t…pull out…”

“You want this dick?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

“Say it, like you mean it!”

“I want it.”

“Of course you do. Now say it again.” He flipped her back around doggy style; placing his hands at the small of her back. He stroked her rapidly and just as he began to lose his breath he pulled her to the edge of the bed, forcing her head to hang off and before Monday knew it her hands were pressed on the floor and he was fucking her with her legs straight up in the air. “I’m listening,” he said, holding her by the waist.

Her pussy thumped, her ass jumped, and the blood rushed to her head. She was practically in tears, and though she hesitated, she felt dick whipped enough to say it. “I want it.”

“I know you do,” he said as he pulled her back on the bed and they resumed doggy style again. He bit her on the shoulders and held his hands at the base of her neck. Loving the confining position he’d put her in, his nut threatened to escape as he pushed his expanding manhood as deep as he could, filling her tight walls with every thick and uncircumcised inch of him.

His hard strokes grinded into her as her breasts flopped wildly, her hard nipples swung in the wind, and her arched back curled under his defined chest. “Listen at that shit.” They became extremely silent as the noise of her pussy juices clapped against his ramming hard dick as if it were giving him a standing ovation.

“This shit wetter than a motherfucker.” He spat as sweat drizzled down his chest and onto her back. “This my pussy and don’t you ever forget that shit.”

Monday didn’t know what was better: having to submit to such pleasurable punishment or the fact that his big dick roughly hit the spot every time, causing her feelings to rewind and reconsider all the times she thought about leaving this selfish motherfucker.

Jolts of electricity forced milk to gush from between her thighs as tears slid from her eyes and her mouth hung open. All she could think was there had to be a law against a niggah like this having a dick game so intense.

As he stroked Monday, her thick cum coating his hard and luscious member, he whispered in her ear, “Tell me you love this dick.”

She didn’t respond.

Kenyatta stopped midstroke, “Oh, you don’t love this dick?” He pounded her with all he had, his strokes intensifying as he yanked her hair back. “Answer me!” He tore into her, his strokes echoing like a whip being flicked. “Answer me! Answer…me!”

“Yes!” Monday screamed. She knew the bottom of her pussy had fallen out. She felt bruises form on her ass as she threw her hips onto his shaft, “I love it!”

“You better.” His pace raced.

Monday didn’t respond, she was too busy enjoying the whipping between her thighs. She grabbed her clit, squinted her eyes, and toyed with it.

“You ridin’ for me?” Kenyatta’s nut thumped at the tip of his dick like an oozing heartbeat. He did what he could to hold back his erotic explosion, but the sweetness of Monday’s pussy was fucking with him and taunting him to bring it all home.

As the chilling sensation rocked Monday’s body, her head started to spin. She could feel another and more powerful orgasm tumbling and wrestling in the pit of her belly, ready to bathe him with a slick coating of vanilla.

Monday began to pant and although she didn’t want to, she had to call his name, because the way he was fucking her now was straight insane, “Kenyaaaaaaatttttttaaaaaa!!!” Instantly she felt her brain freeze, causing her to breathe like an asthmatic. She did what she could to get it together and collect her thoughts as she considered that maybe…maybe he did love her…and maybe…just maybe…his dick was worth all the drama he was causing…and maybe she needed to fall back, but whatever the maybe was, it ain’t have shit on the thunderous storm of hailing cum he was now raining over her back.

Once they were done and they both lay there, Kenyatta twirled Monday’s hair and said, “We’re going to get through this, baby.”

“Really?” she asked him, for once he sounded sincere.

“Of course. Without you, where would I be? In the streets somewhere campaigning for somebody else, not achieving my goals, steadily trying to find myself? If anything I need to say thank you. Thank you for being there, for supporting me, for encouraging me. Thank you for making me who I am today.”

Monday lay on her back as he slid down her body and hooked her legs over his shoulders. She realized this was the same shit all over again. Nothing had changed, not even for a split second, and the only thing new were the scratches she’d just discovered on his back.

Collyn was caught completely off guard and slightly embarrassed as she shifted in her seat. She sat in the outdoor café and watched her party step out of his onyx Navigator and click the remote to lock his doors. Had she known Kenyatta’s friend would be this fine, she would’ve rocked her virgin-white Marilyn Monroe dress with no panties underneath.

New York City’s midmorning traffic seemed to halt as he walked his fine ass across the street and looked directly into her face. Though they’d only spoken on the phone, she knew he’d recognized her as soon as he slid his aviator shades off and his dimples lit up the sky.

Squeezing her inner thighs together, Collyn blew a slow string of air out the side of her mouth as the hostess led him to their table.

He smiled at her. “Collyn?” Immediately and without hesitation, his eyes fucked every part of her curvaceous body. For a moment she wondered if that’s how her name would roll off his tongue if he were stroking her.

“Bless?” She held her hand out, and he kissed it.

“Yes,” he said in a smooth, deep voice. Chills shot up her spine and into her chest, causing her to arch her back, which made her breasts bounce just enough to command attention.

He was six-two and resembled the actor Idris Elba, but with a cut-up body like the rapper Fifty Cent. Just the sight of him made her already protruding nipples so hard they became sore. He was the color of pure Colombian cocoa, and his eyes were like slits of brown diamond with a natural flicker and intensity that said he was always on guard. He wore his hair in a dark faded Caesar with an abundance of spinning waves. A neatly lined boxed beard graced the flawless skin on his face.

He was dressed in an ecru Armani short-sleeve shirt, matching dress pants, and square-toe gators. His muscles tumbled down his long defined arms, and Collyn could only imagine that kissing them would flavor her lips with the essence of dark chocolate.

Collyn pushed her oval Chanel shades to the top of her head, and Bless licked his bottom lip. Just when he’d thought she couldn’t get any prettier, she did. Shaped like a special-edition bottle of Coca-Cola Classic, she had the beauty of a Brazilian goddess. Her hair fell over her shoulders and to the small of her back in an abundance of sexy curls. Her skin was the color of rich mahogany, and her almond-shaped eyes spoke volumes. Her breasts were succulent, full, and perfectly round, and her killer smile was framed by kissable lips. “You’re late,” she said.

“And you’re fine, but you don’t see me complaining.” He smiled, showing a perfect set of white teeth.

Collyn laughed as her eyes ran over the menu.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, sitting down.

“That pathetic-ass line.”

“Pathetic?” He gave her a crooked grin. “Well, would you like to suggest another one, then?”

“Not particularly.” She batted her eyelashes. “But what I would like to know,” she said, the tone of her voice quickly becoming serious, “is where is Kenyatta, and why would he send you alone?”

“Do you have something against being alone with me?”

“No, I have something against not knowing you, because this is not how I conduct business, and Kenyatta knows that. I would’ve shut this whole motherfucker down,” she said, “if I knew he would be nowhere around.”

“Damn, beautiful, chill. He called me right before I got here and said an emergency came up last night and he wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“He told you this?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yes.”

“So why didn’t he call me?”

“I don’t know.” Bless pulled out his cell phone. “Call and ask him.”

Collyn stared at Bless. He was fine, but at this moment that didn’t mean shit. This was not how she handled things at Red Light Special, her exclusive call-girl business, and she wasn’t going to start today. She only took clients by referral and personal introductions. But not only was she feeling this niggah, she’d broken at least three of her cardinal rules when she should’ve dismissed his ass at hello.

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Kenyatta’s number. “Excuse me, sir,” she sarcastically said to Bless as Kenyatta answered the phone. She stood up and walked away from the table. “Where are you?”

“Listen—”

“And don’t lie either.”

“You want me to answer the questions or not?” Kenyatta snapped.

“Hurry up.”

“Bless is going to front you my half for the party, but I won’t be able to make it to Sag Harbor.”

“Why?”

“Everything is a mess right now.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“You better get to fuckin’ talkin’ or this whole party is a wrap! Now who is this cat Bless?”

“A friend of mine. I met him a while back. He’s cool. He likes hoes and shit. He wanted to give a pussy extravaganza with me and he had the money to do it, so—”

“I really have a problem with this.”

“Collyn, all money is green.”

“But I don’t know this motherfucker.”

“Look, I just told you he was straight. And I can’t keep talking because some of my staff just came in.”

“Kenyatta…Kenyatta?” When he didn’t answer, Collyn realized he’d hung up on her. “Damn it!” she spat, snapping her phone shut. Still feeling uneasy, she headed back to the table.

“Done throwing a temper tantrum?” Bless asked as she sat down.

“Temper tantrum?” She cut her eyes at him. “Let me put you on notice real quick: I’m not in the mood for no bullshit. So be clear, I don’t feel like checkin’ no fine-ass wanna-be-an-around-da-way niggah because he thinks he’s the one.

“This is about business, and if you ain’t talking about my money or trying to tell me why Kenyatta would be planning this exclusive-ass party with you and suddenly have some shit he can’t discuss come up, then I don’t wanna hear it! So”—she wiggled her right hand, the canary diamond she wore on her index finger sparkling in the sun—“relax that shit.” She looked at the waitress, who’d just arrived at the table. “May I have a cup of coffee with a kiss of cream, please?”

“And the gentleman?” The waitress smiled.

“Just give me a minute,” Bless said in a tone that let the waitress know he needed her to leave. As she walked away he cleared his throat. “Check this, beautiful.” He looked at Collyn and paused. “Don’t get this Armani-dress-pants outside-café shit fucked up. I’ma Brooklyn-hoodie-and-Timbs niggah all day.

“So all that rah-rah you bringin’ ain’t even for you. Me and ol’ boy are cool, but he’s not my motherfuckin’ problem, so you handle that. Now, if you don’t do business with people you’ve never met face-to-face, you should’ve told me that on the phone. But I’m here now and all that other shit you poppin’ at the mouth is extra, so stop it. Understand?” Slipping the menu from her hands, he stroked her cheek. Running his right thumb across her MAC-covered lips, he repeated himself. “Understand?”

Collyn didn’t know what turned her on the most, being put in her place or the boldness of his touch. But no matter what, she had to keep her composure. She moved his thumb and popped her lips as she spoke. “Don’t touch me if I didn’t give you permission to. Now…” She paused. “Do
you
understand?”

Before Bless could respond, Collyn’s cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw it was one of her clients in California. “Hello?” she said. “Eve didn’t what? Didn’t show up?…Yes, I will take care of this, and I will send someone else today. My apologies.” She ended the call. “Look, I have to go,” she said to Bless. “I have some business to take care of.”

“But you’re taking care of business now.”

“No, I’m not. I don’t know what type of games you all are playing, but I tell you what: you and Mr. Smith”—she pursed her lips—“can keep your fuckin’ grip.” She tucked her clutch under her arm and stood up.

“Sit yo’ ass down,” Bless said sternly, never raising his voice. Collyn looked at him, obviously taken aback. “I said”—he squinted as the waitress sat the coffee on the table and shot them a nervous smile—“sit down.”

Reluctantly Collyn complied as the waitress walked swiftly away.

Bless leaned in toward Collyn, his lips practically touching hers. “What’s really good with you, beautiful? Because this is far beyond us obviously wanting to fuck. I’ve got a lot of money and prestigious people tied into this who are flying in from all over, and if this doesn’t go off, they’re going to be pissed. Now, I don’t have the time nor the patience to pacify yo’ diva-ass fit. What I need is for you to keep your part of the bargain. You can get with Kenyatta later, but right now you need to deal with me.”

Collyn blinked. “Bless, is it? Let me explain something to you…
again,
” she said, looking directly into his face, her warm breath bouncing off his lips. “I’m not the one you need to play with. And ol’ boy should’ve told you that. I’m about my business, not fucking you.”

He looked at her and they locked eyes. “It’s all good, beautiful. I wouldn’t charge you.” He seductively licked his bottom lip and slid a large envelope filled with two hundred thousand dollars across the table between them. “Now, lovely, what you gon’ do?”

“About fucking you or this business arrangement?”

“Both.”

Collyn sat still for a few moments. She’d been in business a long time but had never had to deal with anything like this. Although she had a good feeling about Bless, at this moment she wasn’t sure if it was her aching pussy or her mind assuring her that he was straight.

Collyn’s mother had passed her the torch of being an exclusive pimp handling only elite and wealthy dick—politicians, Hollywood stars, Fortune 500 CEOs, and music moguls, men with more to lose than their sorry-ass wives. And in a situation like this her mother would’ve told her to use her intuition and think about her reputation. To be stern, but be a lady and maintain her professionalism. And to know that if she ever canceled an event, then it better be for the right reasons. Otherwise her reputation would be at stake, and in this business reputation was everything.

Collyn leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Don’t let this happen again.”

“Why would it?”

She didn’t respond; instead she slid the envelope into her purse.

“Now,” Bless said with a smile, “we can have brunch.”

“Fuck brunch.” She placed fifty dollars on the table to cover her coffee and tip, slid her shades back on, and flipped open her cell phone. She called her driver, and when he answered she said, “You can come around now.”

Collyn stood and could feel Bless watching her ass as she strolled toward the black town car. The driver opened the rear door, and within seconds they disappeared into the city that never sleeps.