by Renta
Not to mention, he wasn’t cut out for a prison cell. He’d be somebodies bitch before the second day. Fuck the islands this scandal, he wanted no parts of. So, in an attempt to plant the seed a better way, as well as a safer way to invest his money, he threw Sigfig out there on a limb.
“I too have done my research on the tracking device Sigfig,” Malone spoke for the first time. “But, you must understand, that whatever company you choose to invest in there’s always the possibility of markets switching directions.” Malone smoothed his hand over his Brooks Brothers suit, brushing away invisible lint.
Anyone who knew him knew the twitching of his left eye was a clear indication of his fury. He turned his attention to Ashford in an attempt at discrediting Justin’s word.
“A particular share maybe on the rise this week showing no sense in change, but the next moment, you check interest, you find that particular market has crashed. No device can rationalize better than the human brain, so why even consider it?” Malone turned facing the action in the room. He emphasized his point with a sweeping hand gesture. The room was buzzed with activity. “The stock market is rise and fall, risks and rewards, but I can assure you, World Commodities is as stable as they come and has the potential to multiply, even triple your investments into a larger fortune.”
After he assured, as well as canceled, Justin’s attempts he turned his attention to the insidious lawyer. “Mr. Crow, may I have a word with you in regard to the paperwork needed to finalize our dealings?” He proposed with a deceiving grin.
“Ummm—I—I think that—”
Before he could finish, Ashford Jordan patted him on his back with a bit of order. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Just as he was about to decline, Snow appeared from the midst of ringing phones and excitement in the room.
“Now that you and your lawyer have witnessed my business etiquette can we get back to the matter at hand?” Her aura was lascivious as she stared into Mr. Jordan’s eyes. Turning her gaze to the two lawyers she could sense the tension staining the air.
“Is there a problem, Malone?” She addressed her lawyer.
With an evil glare, he replied. “No, not at all. Me and my fellow colleague are about to go over a couple details, we’ll return shortly. Why don’t you keep Mr. Jordan occupied until we do?” Malone replied.
From the look in his eyes, she could tell something was off. She nodded in accordance. Without taking her eyes away from, Justin Crow she thought, ‘Damn, he had some good dick! Such a waste, such a fuckin’ waste.’
***
~3 Months Later~
Since his release, Ice-Berg crashed the asphalt with an iron fist. Due to the exposure of his case his old connect politely cut him off, but a good connect was nothin’ to a boss. Instead of crying over spilled milk, he painted the city red with the blood of the transgressors who violated him in the worse way. Yet, any real nigga, that’s ever dealt with men who were connected knew getting money and bloodshed never coexisted.
As he bled his enemies his mind never strayed from the mission of securing a good connect. Which is how at this moment, he found himself at a roundtable, positioned by an Olympic sized swimming pool. He stared out at the silhouette of a naked, feminine, deity swanning below the surface of the clear waters. The tables were decorated with fresh fruits, blueberry pancakes, an assortment of juices, sausages, and coffee. The mini mansion standing behind him blew his mind.
It was designed with Greece in mind even out in the massive yard, statues of Greek Gods, were sporadically stationed. The whole experience made him realize, he was merely an accomplished hustler. He would have to step up his game to live the life his new connect Russia was living. The sound of splashing water stole his attention from the beauty of his surroundings, only to have it stolen again by a much more magnificent sight.
The bronze Goddess emerged from the pool with an elegance that was almost risqué. She had perfect sized breasts, a hairless pussy, and a small waist complimenting her curvy, yet petite frame. As she dried her hair with the towel, that was just minutes ago folded neatly at the edge of the pool, their eyes met. At first, she seemed slightly startled, but as she continued to study his poised nature and boss etiquette. Her dark, hypnotic eyes filled with raw, animalistic, lust swan within her essence.
At that moment, Ice-Berg realized this gorgeous feline standing before him was extremely insidious. He could tell that behind the beautiful eye and radiant smile, she now blinded him with was something dark. She seductively slid her bikini bottoms over her curves, allowing him a few more delicious seconds at viewing her feminist treasure. Finally done with her teasing, she draped the towel over her slender shoulders and erotically walked in his direction.
As she descended upon him her nipples jutted out towards him. They were the size of silver dollars and the same hue of her luxurious hair, that was slicked back, hanging past her plump ass cheeks. Now standing within his orbit she seemed even more breathtaking. She reached over and grabbed a strawberry from the selection of fruits without acknowledging him.
Ice-Berg wondered who she was, yet didn’t want to be disrespectful. He turned his attention back to the lawn and its brilliance.
“Even though thu exterior appears to be calm, me can almost bet, thu dick is hard and your curiosity is getting the best of thu.” Yet, thu’re too respectful to speak on thu desires, or thu fear me husband so mush, that a look is the only attention that thu’ll afford me.” Her Ecuadorian accent was thick. “Thu silly Amadacans and thu silly ways,” she giggled.
Finally turning his eyes back to her, he laughed inwardly, yet his façade never changed. The hilarious part was that she was absolute. His dick was hard as granite for sure and he was too respectful to do anything other than look, but even that was considered a sin, now that he knew what the gigantic diamond ring bulging from her finger represented.
“Umm, I think you forgot the top of your bikini by the pool,” he began.
First silence, then gentle laughter. Ice-Berg glanced down at his diamond-encrusted Rolex. “I don’t mean to sound impatient, but do you know what’s taking your husband so long?”
The beauty simply rolled her eyes before answering. “Me, husband, believes the world operates on his time. He is probably out on the green acting like he’s the Russian version of Tiger Woods. But, if he’s scheduled a meeting with thu, he’ll be here soon.”
Belle pulled out a chair across from him and took a seat. “Now—” with an open hand she introduced herself. “My name’s, Belle. The wife of the great man thu are about to see.”
Ice-Berg studied her feminisms for a few seconds. It was beyond him how the woman felt so comfortable, sitting topless, at the table with a stranger and still extrude the aura of a respectable woman.
He released the first words that came to mind. “Aphrodite.”
She gazed at him inquisitively. “Aphr—ite? I no understand tis word. Tell me more about this Aphro? Umm—aphr.” She used her hands to express her nonunderstanding.
Ice couldn’t stop laughing. She stared at him with a puzzled look. “What’s so damn funny?”
This only made him laugh harder. “I’m very sorry, love—I’m sorry.” He slowly regained his composure. “Aphrodite—she was a Greek Goddess of love and beauty.” He allowed his eyes to reveal his meaning.
A small smile crept across her pouty lips. “Are ju trying to say, that thu find me to be beautiful?”
Fire danced in his eyes as he ventured out onto the edge of his conversation. “No, sweetheart, I’m saying you are beautiful. Not trying to say, and as for the comment you made earlier, about me being too respectful or simply fearful of your husband? Belle, I’m a gangsta in my own right. Respect, your husband has earned his place at the table, so of course, I regard him with a certain amount of revere. But, fear, he bleeds like every other nigga, I’ve met.
“I don’t know how they rock in Rome, but I’m from the grit of the lone star state f
ear becomes a deadly element when associated with mu’fuckas that ain’t got it together. This lifestyle this gonna be me one day. This game wasn’t created with fear in mind. Only bosses are allowed at the long table. I’m the definition of a boss’s etiquette. So, with all due respect, pop your eyes out of their sockets, place them on your tongue, and watch what you say to me.”
Belle reached over and grabbed another strawberry from the platter and gently placed the tip of it between her lips. Without taking her eyes away from his she partook of it.
Sensually, placing the half-eaten fruit back on the platter, her eyes seemed to darken as she studied him. “Your balls must be very big Mr—Umm, thu never gave me, thu name.”
Standing to make his departure, he directed his attention to a huge statue of the Greek God, Apollo to his left. “Tell your husband, I find it very disrespectful, that he conducts business this way. Good day, Mrs. Belle.” Turning to leave he walked straight into a hulking figure.
The first man, he’d just ran into, stood at least six-five, and weighed over two-hundred sixty pounds. He was dressed in all black, with a visible Bluetooth in his ear, and black Ray Ban sunglasses adorned his muscular face, hiding his glare. The second man, to his right, was in identical attire but wasn’t as menacing. They had their hands in their suit jackets, undoubtfully grasping instruments that caused death.
“Butch—Gruco, settle down fellas.” A baritone voice sounded from behind the pair.
At his request, the two men relaxed their hands and stepped to the side. His appearance was contradicting when you compared it to his profession. He stood about five-ten at best. He had deep-set blue eyes, that shocked you at first glance. The scar that ran from the middle of his eyebrow to the middle of his cheek, was what gave him up as a man, that had dirty dealings. His sandy blonde hair was long and curly. Outside of these few attributes, one would never peg him for a Russian drug Caesar.
Yet, he was one of the most dangerous men on this side of the hemisphere.
A crooked grin graced his lips as he extended his hand— “Mr. Swanson, pleasure to meet you.”
Taking his hand in a firm grip Ice-Berg returned the grin. “Berg will be just fine, Swanson sounds so formal, don’t you think?”
“Berg, you say? As in, ‘Ice-Berg’, the infamous king pen, that the whole state is pissed at for finding a way to piss on the Judicial System? Ice-Berg, the twenty-six-year-old, David Swanson, that lives in a four bedroom, two and half bath, red brick home, located on the outskirts of Denton, Texas, in a small town named, Argyle? The ballsy young man, that possesses a quick trigger finger and a lust for exotic women? Berg, of course.” After revealing to Ice-Berg that he’d done his homework, he turned his gaze to his beautiful wife, who was now applying suntan lotion on her perky breasts
“Speaking of exotic women—Belle, excuse yourself, my dear wife. You have no place amongst men.”
She gathered her things and made her exit, but before she could pass Russia called to her. “Wife stand before me.”
Belle stopped between the four men and stood before him. Palming her naked breasts he began massaging the left one. “Exotic wouldn’t you say, my friend, Berg? A diamond from the North-Western coast of South America. Ecuador, to be exact.” Now pinching her hardened nipples his eyes burned into hers. The pain he was causing her wasn’t evident to the masses, yet the two of them understood its implications. Yet and still, she seemed inured to his actions.
“Ecuador has an abundance of beautiful things, but please understand my friend, beauty is merely the death of a foolish man. The splendor of our visionary has been our downfall from the beginning of time. Once one obtains beauty, he also obtains a million enemies for everybody desires the beautiful, never knowing that kingdoms has fallen, men have been betrayed, and deaths have followed in its wake. All for the sake of beauty.” With that being said, he kissed her forehead and dismissed her. Then with cold eyes, he turned his sights back to, Ice-Berg. “Now—let’s talk business.”
***
As Ashford Jordan typed away at the computer keys a funny feeling invaded his senses.
“Maybe we need to wait for our lawyers return.” Him and Snow were now in the confines of her office, which was actually Antone’s, but Jordan was none the wiser.
The events that led him to the laptop Snow provided for him was stimulating, as well as deceptive, depending on whose viewpoint one was looking from. It all began once the door to the office closed and secrecy enclosed their dealings. Snow seduced him right out of his trousers. In seconds, she had his dick deep down her throat and his balls clenched lightly.
“Oh, my God,” he moaned as she rapidly bobbed up and down on his member. His hands became lost in the blonde locks as he gripped her head and fucked her mouth. “Shiii—shittt—my fucking wife—ohhh! She—she’s going to divorce—uhhh, shittt.”
Snow stared up at him and studied his expression. The pleasure, that radiated from his face, and the pulsating of his penis confirmed her suspicions, he was about to cum.
“I’m abo—bout to—umm, to cum. Keep going, baby suck it! Suck this dick!” Ecstasy cried from his lips.
In order to bring her plans to fruition, she slowly slid away from his erect muscle. Yet, he still tried to chase his moment of bliss. She literally had to pry his hands away from her head.
“What’s the problem?” he wondered.
Seizing the opportunity Snow stood and straightened her attire. “I have a glorious idea.” She replied as she walked around her desk and opened the Dell laptop computer that rested on top of it.
She began typing until she accessed what she was looking for. “You do know how to access your own account, don’t you? Or does Justin spoon feed you with your own money?”
Pride was a beautiful thing because that’s what caused Ashford Jordan the intellectual investor, to make the biggest mistake of his forty-seven years of living. “Spoon feed me? Justin is merely my watch dawg. Yes, he usually handles my legal business, but my money is my money.”
Snow smiled successfully, but to Mr. Jordan, it was more suggestive. “What do you have in mind?” He asked inquisitively.
Snow seductively walked over to him and place the computer in his lap. It was a hilarious sight to see the multimillion-dollar investor, with his slacks down at his ankles and a computer in his lap.
“What better way to invest your money into a lucrative venture and have your cocked sucked all at once?” She whispered as she reclaimed her previous position.
“Well, I don’t know, Ms. Waynebrook maybe we should wait for-ahhh—Ms. Waynebrook!” He couldn’t even finish his sentence, Snow had his now re-erect penis gripped between her small fist. She jacked him off as she kissed his purplish head.
Between licks and kisses, she whispered. “That’s—the—account. That—I—” She allowed a few inches into her mouth, held it there, and sucked as she allowed her tongue to taste the precum leaking from his nature. Then she slowly slipped it out of her mouth with a pop. “I want you to transfer the fund to that account.” Snow turns her attention back to the task at hand, she takes him back into her mouth and swallows him whole.
The speed she applied took him over the edge. Her eyes never left his as his fingers began stroking the keys. Bliss captured his mind, and if he was a stronger man, the account that flashed across the screen would have revealed the meaning of the strange feeling now masked by the essence of euphoria. Everyone knew the Cayman Islands was the safe haven for a crook’s treasures, now it held Brain’s as well, two-point-three million dollars’ worth, to be exact.
Chapter Six
Forbidden Attraction
Destiny Kendricks’ hadn’t been to a club in almost three years. Why would she? She was a married woman, but between the distress of her parents constant nagging of her never going back to Sa’Mage and Sa’Mage’s consistent calls, she was going crazy. Making it easy to accept her cousins, Tammy and Falisha’s invite to the opening of Club Dreams. Now as she sat at the t
able with her youngest cousin, Tammy she began to regret her desperate decision.
Destiny was dressed conservatively, in a yellow Banana Republic tube dress, a pair of four-inch nude stiletto heels, and a yellow head wrap completed her assemble. She watched her eldest relative, Falisha dance with some dude, whose hair was in cornrows.
“Oooh, she’s so nasty. Look at how her nasty ass is all over that dude,” Tammy said in disdain.
Destiny laughed out loud. “Leave my girl alone, she’s just getting her groove on.”
Tammy frowned at her sister. “More like getting her fuck on. So, what’s been going on with you, Mrs. Thang? You are going to divorce that lame, ain’t you?”
Destiny rolled her eyes. “Aren’t, not ain’t,” she corrected. “I don’t know if I’m divorcing ‘Mage, just yet. I just don’t know! I still love him he’s my—ummm, my situation.” She frowned at the fact that she couldn’t respect calling him her husband. “I just don’t know, right now.”
Tammy couldn’t stomach her older cousin’s lack of heart. “Bitch, is you crazy? This dude allowed you to be kidnapped by some thug, ass niggas, that coulda killed you. What type of man would allow that shit to take place at home? You need to leave his bitch ass. I always told you, you need a ruff neck in yo’ life.”
Destiny looked at her cousin like she had two heads. “Tammy maybe that’s why you’re always single. Then when you’re in a relationship, you’re always getting your ass kicked. So, how can you enlighten me about a man, when your definition of one is a bum, that drives a 745 BMW. But, still lives at home with his mother? Girl please, I am a successful arts agent. What would I look like showing up to a gallery with a forty-year-old man who still thinks it’s cool to have his pants hanging off his ass? I’d rather not, Sa’Mage may not be perfect, but he’s all man. You need to get your shit together before you start giving me advice.”