Saint And Sinners (11 page)

“Oohhh God!” she yelled, her back arched as his load shot inside of her over and over
again.

“Uhhhhhhh! Fuuuuuuck!” He grew suddenly dizzy as he blasted his flowing gratefulness
within her tight, wet walls. “Uhhhhh! Uhhhh…”

Jerking a bit, he gained control of himself and, drawing close to her face, he delivered
a gentle kiss across her collarbone. “Mmmm…” he moaned as he made his way back to
her nipples, his dick still twitching inside of her. After a few moments, he grinded
gently against her pubic bone and brushed her hair away from her eyes as they lovingly
kissed one another, wrapped in a lovely, wet rapture. The woman made his damn heart
stop.

“Alright, you were entirely
too
good tonight, woman…
too
damn good. What do you want, huh?” He smirked as he looked down at her, pressed his
head into the pillow and slumped back a bit, relaxed. He eyed her affectionately.
“Another new car? A trip somewhere exotic, what?” he half teased, causing her to playfully
hit him across the shoulder.

“I don’t want anything, baby,” she said seriously, though her lip curved upward in
a rascally way. “I’m happy that you enjoyed my performance tonight though.” She snickered
as she gathered the sheets closer to her body, covering up her breasts—much to his
disappointment. “I have some great news, too.” She sighed, looking dreamily up at
that the ceiling for a moment.

“I have some great news, too.” His eyes narrowed.

“Oh, really? You go first.” She resituated herself and waited patiently.

“I have another hard on… I’m ready to fuck again. Isn’t that the greatest news you’ve
ever heard, baby?”

Xenia balled her face and fist up tight, landing a wallop across his shoulder blade.

“Damn it!” He burst out laughing, rubbing the sore area. “What? I can’t play with
you? I’m joking.” He grinned, but she paid him no mind. “I
am
hard though…” He drew serious, as if the words coming out of his mouth merited top
priority. “No sense in wasting it with senseless talking…”

Xenia raised her hand, again prepared to land it across his flesh.

“Okay!” He threw up his hands to block any pending punches. “I give…damn, beating
me up ’nd shit. Go ahead, honey.” He grinned wide while he lingered in the moment,
waiting for her words.

“I was going to tell you earlier but you knocked me down on the bed before I could.”
She burst out laughing. “This is my third time trying to tell you, actually.”

“Really? Well, that’s a damn shame, baby, but they say three time’s a charm,” he rasped
as he looked her sexy ass up and down. “Speaking of threes, you want me to fuck you
two more times tonight? Make it triplets? Sure baby, no problem.” He flaunted a prize-winning
smile, hoping she’d oblige. His dick was throbbing beneath the sheets, making them
rise between his damn legs. He hated to be so rude, but hell, he wanted to make love
again. NOW. Instead, he received another hit across the shoulder, this one much harder.

“Ouuuch!” He pretended to be in pain as he rubbed his imaginary wound, a twinkle no
doubt in his eye.

“No…actually, I spoke to a colleague of mine, and it looks like he would like a co-host
for his radio show.” She crossed her arms proudly, flattening her breasts beneath
the sheets. “He is in Brooklyn. Now, I know we don’t know where we will be or anything
like that, but—”

“…Don’t do that to the girls.”

“What?” She looked at him in confusion.

“They can’t breathe when you squeeze them down like that… that’s not right. They need
air. Get off of ’em, and let me play with one.” He tugged at the sheet, causing a
small wrestling match to ensue as the woman cursed his name and pushed him away with
both palms. Falling to his side, he cracked the hell up and sighed with the realization
that he wasn’t going to get any ass for at least a few minutes.

“Saint, have you been listening to anything I said?!” she asked angrily, her left
breast partially exposed after the melee.

He stared at the damn thing, unable to take his eyes off of it. Suddenly aware of
his gaze, she looked down, then back at him, her face now wearing a ferocious frown
as she covered herself back up once again.

He huffed in disbelief. “Of course I heard you! I heard everything you said, baby.”

“What did I say?” she demanded, lifting her chin high and clicking her head to the
side in the ‘sista girl’ fashion he was accustomed to seeing from her when she’d had
just about enough of him.

“There’s a radio show in Brooklyn and you’ve been invited to be the co-host. See?”
He grinned mischievously. “I’ve been listening.”

The woman rolled her eyes at him. “Well, like I was saying, even if I’m not on his
show, he has other connections. So, I think that’s one concern we can scratch off
our list.”

“Oh baby, that’s beautiful…just beautiful.” He kissed her nose. “Now, do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Turn around on your stomach. I want to hit it from the back.”

“Saint! You are getting worse about this as the years pass instead of better! I thought
you were supposed to have been out of your sexual peak by now.” She sat up, fighting
a grin, but seemingly still quite irritated with his lack of a detailed response.
He chuckled.

“I’m just kidding, baby, well, kinda. I mean, I knew you’d find something, you’re
Xenia Aknaten after all, and yes, I’m
really
happy for you.” He paused, thinking better of it. Suddenly his jealousy bone twitched.
“Who is this cat, though? Is this someone that used to be interested in you? ’Cause
if so, I’m not trying to go through anything like that again.”

“No, of course not. His name his Stephen Fare, and he is a professional,
married
man and a great guy! I’ve known him for years.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of Stephen Fare!” Saint cooled a bit.

Older white guy with a conservative slant…

“He has that financial show, right?”

“Yes, and he has other shows, too and I’d be on one about entertainment news, my specialty
of course.” She grinned.

“Well, why don’t you entertain
me
and get on your stomach like I asked?”

“Saint, I think you need to go to that therapist again about your sex addiction. You
are completely out of control.” She shook her head, as if shocked by this revelation.
The woman had the audacity to be offended. “Here I am, telling you this wonderful
information, and all you can think about is getting laid!”

“Mmmm hmmmm…” He grinned and ignored her, turning her how he wanted—on her belly with
her ass in the air. She resisted a bit by hitting his fingers and scratching at his
wrists as he finished positioning her just so. It was no use; he soon overpowered
her. Resting his weight on her body, he continued to listen to her complaining as
her head pressed firmly into the mattress. She kept escalating the situation, even
ended up cursing him out, but it all came to a halt once he pushed back inside of
her…

“Ahhhhhh…” she groaned as he seized her body, took it completely over.

He gripped the back of her neck as he humped her big, cushy ass, making their bodies
slap against one another to an illusory beat. Over and over, he forced his cock in
and out of her hot wetness.

“…Now isn’t
this
the best way to celebrate good news, baby? I sure as hell think so…”

*

The upper eastside
Manhattan townhouse boasted four bedrooms with the original, exposed brick, originally
built in the 1920’s—a seamless backdrop to aerodynamic plush sapphire furniture with
satin black throw pillows. The place didn’t seem to have a thing out of place, and
the eat-in-kitchen was almost set up to look like a showroom. A crystal bowl of ripe,
dark red apples set atop a slate and granite island, equipped with an oven range and
vast sink with custom chrome goose-neck faucet. Koki made his way towards his dining
area, leaned down, and inhaled the fresh bouquet of crisp, white roses he’d picked
up earlier in the day. As he took in their delicious scent, he stepped back and grinned
when they turned charcoal black and wilted from his mere touch.

It was good to be home. He removed his white leather jacket, placed it on a nearby
hook then dug in the pocket to remove his wallet and car keys. They jangled in his
hands as he made his way back down the long, dark hall. Ushering the door open, he
entered his favorite room of the entire house—the grand master suite. Up on the eleventh
floor of the building, he could see a fair distance onto the busy street as he walked
to his couch and placed his items down on the side table. The sky had drawn deep purple,
as the evening pressed through the firmament landscape. He sat down and meticulously
removed his spotless, black and white Reeboks, taking special care to not mess up
the neatly tied laces.

“Ahhhh.” he sighed as he slid them off, giving his sock-covered feet a bit of air.
He sat there for a moment, taking a deep breath. A rich orange slither of smoke escaped
from the side of his lips, like a burning flame doing a horizontal dance in the atmosphere.
He looked ahead at the blank, silver plasma television, waved his hand towards the
screen and commanded it to come on. Before he could take another breath, his iPhone
buzzed against his jeans pocket. He glided his hand inside, retrieved it and answered.

“Yeah…” Rising from the burgundy couch, he made his way towards his bed, where the
minibar was conveniently located on one side.

“What are you into?” Zoo questioned, the man’s heavy Spanish accent coating each syllable
like syrup on a pancake.

“I’m home. I haven’t been home in three fucking days,” Koki stated, letting Zoo know
he wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit and that his call had better be important.

“Well, there’s a party in Carroll Gardens…I think we should invite ourselves.”

“There’s no action in Carroll Gardens right now.” Koki gripped the cold neck of a
Corona beer and untwisted the cap with his bare teeth. He spit the twisted, metal
remains onto the gray silk duvet and took a glorious guzzle.

“Well, tonight that’s supposed to be different. The Blanco cartel will be in the building.
We can put in some work.”

“Sounds dangerous.” Koki grinned. His stomach quaked in excitement as he took another
deep swig from the bottle. “How many will be there?”

“Twelve, maybe thirteen. It’s on the low, but I’ve confirmed it’s going down.”

“Well, this may be a good score for us. Why don’t we take care of the guests? Treat
them to our own brand of refreshments.” Koki fell limp onto the side of his bed and
kicked one leg up, working out a budding Charlie’s Horse. “It wouldn’t take much.”

“I guess they thought they’d be safe there, you know, let their guard down. That will
make this all the more fuckin’ fantastic.” Zoo gloated, a smile in his tone.

“Well, who can blame them? Carroll Gardens doesn’t typically attract that sort of
clientele. Didn’t realize Joey took a day off… I suppose even God had to have a day
of rest. Sabbath…” He lightly chortled, triggering Zoo to do the same. “Alright, give
me some time. I need to get some shut eye.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “See
you later.”

“Peace.”

Koki lay across his bed for a spell, his hands behind his head as he looked up at
the high ceiling with thick beams running across it. After a few moments, he got up
and disrobed, peeling his dark green T-shirt away from his tan flesh and placing his
folded jeans neatly beside it. He removed his white boxer briefs and stood in front
of his circular ash gray vanity mirror. He peered at his reflection, taking in what
he saw. Standing 6’2, with jet-black hair, a small cleft on his chin and a natural
smirk, he enjoyed eyeing himself. His assortment of tattoos ran the length of his
arms, symbols that most people didn’t dare to understand. He glanced at the inverted
cross birthmark on his ankle, then stepped closer to the mirror and tucked his hands
under his arms. Grinning, he slicked his tongue over his bottom lip, then bit into
it, drawing a bit of blood.

What is beauty? What is fame? What is fortune and prestige? People die for all of
the above, take a life for so much less. I am the last road of destiny. I do not create
the path, I just pick up the carcasses up along the way. Fuckin’ vermin, fuckin’ roadkill.

He turned and waltzed his naked body into his kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of water,
he looked back at the wilted black flower and approached it. He cupped the thing,
and like magic, it gradually turned back white, the petals fresh and renewed. His
smile faded, while his heart beat a bit faster as he danced with his thoughts. He
was finally alone, able to think, able to talk it all out. It was short lived. His
cell phone rang once again, so he darted to his bedroom, grabbed it then burst into
his master suite bathroom to turn on the Indian summer granite shower.

“What?” he huffed as he tested the water temperature.