Trickery (18 page)

I was all over that thang now and I couldn’t stop my eyes from dipping down even lower. And when they did, I moaned out loud and straight-up embarrassed myself as I licked my lips like I was ready to start sucking!

 On the real, I felt like a dick-hound. A sex fiend. A nasty little nympho. My poor grandmother didn’t raise no loosey-goosey chick in the streets! She had raised me to have some morals in my life, so I tried to tamp down on all my freaky fantasies because I knew most chicks just didn’t crave sex the way I did.

I knew the way to play the game was to hook up with a dude in a serious relationship and then make him spend a couple of months dropping doe and earning the right to get up in my pussy.

But then again I had also been through enough shit in this world to know that time didn’t wait on nobody. I could hear my girl Dicey hollering at me from her grave. “Life is too short, Juicy! You know damn well tomorrow ain’t promised to you. You want that dick? Then go get that shit!”

I couldn’t believe it when I found myself standing up and walking over to my bedroom door. I was wearing a cute pink undershirt and a pair of silky black boy shorts, and I couldn’t tell if the air conditioner had suddenly gone on the blink, or if the heat simmering on the surface of my skin was coming out of my own body.

But what I did know, is that it was a whole ’nother Juicy who put her hand on that doorknob and twisted that shit. It sure as hell wasn’t me. That other Juicy walked out of that room just as bold and horny as she could be, and then she went next door and stepped up in Trey’s crib without even knocking.

That new-and-improved chick Juicy was bodacious as hell, lemme tell you. She followed the sound of running water and then she opened the door to Trey’s private bathroom and stepped inside. The air was moist and swirling with hot steam, but it was no match for the fire that was burning between her legs.

There was a large Jacuzzi bathtub in the middle of the floor, and a double-wide shower stall made out of clear glass panes was up against the far wall. The swirling steam had fogged up the glass a little bit, but that chick Juicy could see inside the shower good enough to peep what was going down.

Trey was standing in there naked with his extra-long dick gripped in his hand.

It was rock-hard and coated with sudsy bubbles, and he was stroking that shit up like a mutha.

Juicy watched quietly for a second as her eyes zoomed in on his monster like it was a heat-seeking missile. Trey’s body glistened under the spray of water as he fisted his wood and pounded it to his own beat.

Suddenly their eyes met. Trey didn’t move, but he didn’t miss a stroke neither. He kept up his steady rhythm as he stared at her and went right on beating his throbbing meat.

There wasn’t a drop of hesitation in that bold bitch Juicy as she pulled her shirt over her head and stepped out of her panties. Her pussy was already damp and hungry, and her nipples were so hard they tingled and ached.

By the time she realized she was on the move she had already crossed the room. Her eyes were locked on him as she pulled the glass door open and stepped inside the wet stall. Immediately, a warm mist blanketed her bare body and tiny pellets of water hit her skin. Juicy stood in front of him honest and naked, showing him what she wanted and checking out what he had to offer her too.

Trey’s eyes straight-up molested her.

They roamed over her firm titties and paused to admire the peaks of her nipples with mad appreciation and crazy lust. His gaze traveled down her toned stomach and paused at the ‘V’ accenting her waistline before heading further south toward the urgent explosion of her hips.

Directly above her neat mound of pubic hair, his eyes took in the dark, twisted wound on her belly. It was a treacherous scar, left by a killer’s bullet, and for him it was a cold reminder of just how delicate she really was.

And that’s when everything changed.

“Juicy,” he breathed quietly. “Gone back to your room, baby,” he said gently. “You shouldn’t be in here with me. Ga’head, baby. Gone back.”

“Trey,” she whispered as she shook her head, no.

He tried to explain. “You ain’t ready for none of this girl. Yeah, I know you want it. And you might even need it. But you damn sure ain’t ready for it.”

“How do you know what I’m ready for? I’m grown, Trey. And I’m ready too.”

 He shook his head again. “The next time I put my hands on you I’m gonna do it the right way. There ain’t gonna be no regrets involved, Juicy. It’s gonna be
right
. But it ain’t gonna be today.”

Even though his dick was still swollen, the look in Trey’s eyes told her that he meant exactly what he said. He wanted to fuck her, but he wasn’t going to.

“I’ll tell you what,” that horny chick Juicy said, scheming on a way to get her sticky off. “You don’t even have to touch me . . . and I won’t touch you neither. Just . . .” she reached for the shower gel and spread a big glob in her hands. “Just touch yourself,” she whispered. “And I’ll touch myself too, okay?”

That wild-ass Juicy dipped her hands into the falling spray of water, and then she crossed her arms over her shoulders and gently massaged the scented suds into her skin.

With her eyes locked on Trey’s, Juicy’s hands crept downward and her palms slid under her titties. Balancing their fullness in her hands, she lathered them up with soapsuds and fingered her stiff nipples as Trey stood there and watched. A low moan escaped her lips as a pleasure chord hummed from her breasts all the way to her clit, and Juicy sighed as she released her nipples and allowed her fingers to trail down and across her belly.

By now Trey’s eyes had taken on a whole different look, and the fingers gripping his penis were tightly clenched. His breathing was getting deeper too, and Juicy could see his manhood responding to her visual stimulation.

Squeezing more gel into her hands, Juicy worked up the foam between her fingers and then delved through the tangled curls of her pussy hairs and gave her punanee a sexy shampoo. She dipped low between her legs and tantalized the fine tufts on her lower lips, and then without warning she brought both hands back up and spread her pussy open wide as her stiff little man leaped right out of his boat.

Trey stared between her legs as her clitoris stood swollen and exposed. Her tender knob of pussy meat looked sweet as hell and his mouth started watering.   

He started jacking his dick again, slowly at first, but then when Juicy suddenly mashed down on her clit and slid her middle finger deep inside her pussy, his fist moved faster and slid up the length of his pole with hard, demanding strokes.

Turned on to the max, they fucked each other with their eyes and masturbated to a common beat. And when the groove finally got too hot to handle, Trey put his head back and moaned, and Juicy rotated her hips as the sugary walls of her pussy collapsed and squeezed down on her plunging fingers.

Their self-induced orgasms were powerful and explosive, and by the time Trey’s dick jerked in his hand and his nut spurted through the air and landed on Juicy’s naked belly, her own orgasm was tearing through her too, and she gripped her pussy in her palm as her juices seeped through her fingers and dripped to the shower floor.

By the time their breathing slowed down the water was turning cold. Trey wrapped an extra-thick towel around her, and Juicy looked up and sent him a sexy message with her eyes.

You was wrong, Mister Jackson. Dead wrong. I’m ready for everything you got, baby. Ready and waiting.

If anything, Juicy wanted Trey even more now. She wasn’t sure exactly how he had done it, but some kinda way this dude had just gotten down with the part of her that had needed it the most.

Her mind.

And he did it without laying a hand on her body.

CHAPTER 22

Happy birthday to ya! Happy birthday to ya! Happy
biiiirthday
!”

It was early afternoon and Monique smiled brightly as she sang and danced and carried Salida’s beautiful made-from-scratch birthday cake over to the bar where her boss sat sipping champagne. The cake was tiny and real cute, just enough for one person really, and she had decorated the shit outta it with creamy hot-pink frosting and thinly sliced strawberries on top.

“Is this for me?” Salida said, her greedy eyes lighting up brighter than the single candle that blazed from the center of the small cake. “Mo-Mo!” she exclaimed. “You baked this pretty cake just for me?”

Monique beamed and nodded at her boss-lady. “I sure did. I know your birthday ain’t until tomorrow, but I wanted to give you something right now. Hell, you do so much for everybody else around here Mizz Salida that you deserve to have something sweet of your own.”

Bitchy-ass Bizzie had the nerve to stand behind the bar and twist his chicken neck. “Oh, so don’t nobody else get no cake?”

Monique shook her head quickly. “Not none of that one there, they don’t. I made another one for y’all though. See?” she angled her head over her shoulder as young Bilal walked outta the kitchen carrying an identical, but much larger cake in his hands.

“So y’all back off and let Mizz Salida eat her little birthday cake in peace,” Monique chastised the hungry men. “That big one right over there is for the rest of y’all greedy asses.”

CHAPTER 23

You didn’t have to do this but thank you, Mrs. Washington,” Trey said as he reached out his open car window and accepted the freshly baked sweet potato pie that one of the older residents of Harlem was offering him.

Mrs. Washington had caught Trey just as he was about to pull out of his parking spot at the Crossover Community Center and get on the road heading south. She was the grandmother of Gerard Brown, one of Trey’s most improved protégés. Two years earlier Gerard had been out there on the avenue bangin’ and wildin’, and he had messed around and gotten caught in the middle of a street-corner crossfire.

The bullet that struck Gerard had severed his spine and paralyzed him from the chest down and left him a sixteen-year-old paraplegic. For months after his shooting the boy had been desperate to check out on life. Not a day had gone by that he hadn’t begged his grandmother to give him an overdose of his pain medication and put him out of his misery.

Lolly Washington had taken the boy to see several psychiatrists, and every one of them had assured her that her grandson’s mental anguish was a natural reaction to his life-changing physical condition. They told her that over time he would come to accept the confines of his body and learn to live within his new limitations.

But after failing to see any progress for many months, Mrs. Washington was unable to bear her grandbaby’s death-pleas any longer. Her older grandson had played basketball with Mayhem and Messiah back when they were in high school. He was in the Army serving in Afghanistan right now, but during a phone call home he suggested she take Gerard over to the Crossover Community Center to get hooked up with his old friend, Trey.

Mrs. Washington knew Trey and his family from the neighborhood, and she had always felt bad about that trouble he’d gotten into. She took Gerard down there to meet him, praying that Trey would accept Gerard into his program and find some kind of way to reach the boy.

Things had turned out far better than she had expected.

Not only had Trey agreed to admit Gerard to his program, he had taken the boy under his wing without an ounce of pity, and he’d treated Gerard the same way he woulda treated him if the boy was healthy and up running around on his feet.

Trey had arranged for a Handi-Van to bring Gerard to the center four days a week, and even though the state paid for him to have a full time nurse, Trey kept the boy close to him, often wheeling him around with him wherever he went. Gerard felt real special when he got to sit in on staff meetings with Trey and watch basketball games and boxing matches right by his mentor’s side. Slowly, Trey trained the boy to use all the things that the stray bullet hadn’t been able to destroy: his eyes, his ears, his brain, and his heart.

“Y’all enjoy the pie,” Mrs. Washington called over her shoulder as Trey waved goodbye. He passed the pie to Juicy, then started backing out of his parking spot. The sun was high in the sky and sending warm rays of heat down on the streets of Harlem. He turned the whip’s air conditioner on blast, and cool streams of air rushed out and washed over him. But just as Trey started to roll up his window Lolly Washington called out to him again.

“Trey!” she hurried back over to the car with a worried look on her face. “I’m getting old, dammit. I knew I was forgetting to tell you something!”

Trey pushed a button and slid his window down again and let the cool air drifted back outta his ride. “What’s going on?” he asked her.

“I know y’all heard about Reverend Flashlight, right?”

Trey nodded. The slimy Harlem preacher had gotten busted naked in the bed fucking two fourteen-year-old cousins from his congregation. When the girls’ uncle bust up in the room waving a burner, the Reverend had passed out on the spot and dropped dead of a heart attack.

“Yeah, I heard about all that craziness. It’s a shame.”

“Well, they had the Reverend’s funeral today at Three Brothers Funeral Home. His dead tail wasn’t allowed across the threshold of his own church no more on account of what he did with them poor little girls, but the reason I’m telling you this is because the Reverend’s wife asked me to bake some pies for his repass after the funeral.”

Trey sat there waiting for her to get the point.

Mrs. Washington’s voice fell a tone lower.