by Keon Smith
It was also the reason he felt he had to protect those he cared about, fiercely if not violently. Rubbing his forehead where the mysterious mark remained, he wiped the sweat from his face and sighed in frustration as he looked over at Tasha. She was staring dead at him with hungry, silver eyes. He always thought those eyes were so cold in a way, yet she showed nothing but affection and devotion to him.
Tasha was a Milano with smooth, pale skin and dark naturally straight hair that fell well beyond her shoulders. She was a twenty-one-year-old beauty who studied law at an all-girls college in Atlanta. While on spring break, she decided to spend it at home with her mother and three sisters. She loved Montega because he was her first and was the only hoodlum who could capture her heart, but she hated what he did for a living. Tasha would always tell him how much she hated drugs, and Montega would always tell her how much he loved fast money. It was like two people speaking different languages. They represented two very different worlds, yet they came together so beautifully.
Tasha kissed Montega tenderly on the neck. “That better, baby?” she whispered before licking his earlobe and sucking it like a piece of candy. Montega closed his eyes for a moment as his dick bulged under the sheets. He then turned to kiss her. Tasha leaned back submissively while pulling the covers from her body to expose her firm, bare breasts and landing-strip-trimmed pussy. Montega’s tongue traveled down to her ripe, quarter-sized nipple and playfully streaked across them.
“Umm, Kenny, stop before you start something, boy,” she moaned.
Getting on top of her, he positioned his thick, long member at the opening of her swollen entrance and thrust himself inside. Tasha gasped as every inch of his shaft penetrated her. “Uhhhh!” she moaned as he stuffed the full length inside of her wet walls. “Oh shit, Kenny. It… it feels so good.”
Montega slid his hands down to her curvy thighs and cupped them from underneath, pulling her legs up and around his waist. From there, his hands slid up the side of her ribs, taking her by her arms to pin her down on the bed. Tasha loved their lovemaking, but what made her go berserk was the thought of Montega being in complete control. He held her down by her wrists while pumping his member in and out of her wet tunnel. Tasha’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her face contorted with each stroke. She didn’t know what she liked the most about this street thug, but his whole persona turned her on. He had evolved from the young, smooth-faced pup to the peak of alpha male maturity.
Montega’s face moved down to her neck. Using his teeth, he lightly bit her skin, causing her to purr like a cat. He gently licked her sweet skin while moving into her harder each time he delivered. His teeth moved to her ears. This drove her mad. Despite his ability to mask his thoughts and disguise his emotions, he was nonetheless a self-professed, clean-cut, romantic predator.
Tasha fought to break her hands. She wanted to feel him, to hold him. When he finally released her, her hands stroked across his scarred back, feeling every welt that was once done by torture. She adored him because he was caring at times, sensitive, nice, and instinctive. He showed her the very soul of respect and earnest ambition. What she didn’t see was the darkness hidden behind his mysteriousness.
She cupped his face and stared into his eyes while he fucked her into oblivion. He was taking her every breath. To her, no man could grasp the thoughts she had stored in her mind and understand its reasoning better than he could. His handsomeness and irresistible smile didn’t help either. He had a moon-shaped face with exotic, brown eyes, a thin, long nose, and full, pouting lips. Unlike his high-yellow brother, he had light-brown skin with a light mustache and full beard sprouting from his face like a lion’s mane. Her hands stroked his short, wavy hair that was always shaped up sharply before moving down his chiseled back. His entire body was genetically blessed.
“Oh God, Kenny! You’re making me cum!” she shouted while wrapping her legs around his waist.
Sure, guys came at Tasha in college every day, but no matter how much they threw themselves at her, she just couldn’t find anyone who could match Montega’s uptown swag.
“Let me get on top, baby,” Tasha suggested while trying to catch her breath.
“You can try,” Montega teased.
Tasha giggled as she rolled him over to his back. Montega took her by the hand and kissed her palm. She placed them against his rock-hard abs and milked him with rhythmic strokes. He reached behind her, taking a handful of her ass and squeezing as he pumped himself into her. Montega always admired Tasha’s ass. For a white girl, she was holding. He watched her titties bounce as she rode him like she was a Kentucky Derby jockey. “Is this pussy good to you, baby?” she asked, picking up speed.
The warm feeling sent chills through Montega.
“Hell yeah,” he grunted out while grabbing her waist to improve the leverage.
“Oh shit, baby.” Tasha frowned as she felt him almost piercing her mid-section. “This dick is so big. I can feel you in my stomach.”
I’ve heard that before.
Tasha rhythmically worked her body with his to a mysterious beat that only they could hear. Her love box was so wet; Montega felt he couldn’t hold back his excitement any longer. Palming her ass, he deep stroked her until he could feel himself flushing out his seed. He quickly pulled her close, thankful she had just taken her depo shot two days earlier. He wasn’t ready for a child and most certainly didn’t want one out of pure lust and not love. He took a deep breath to regain his energy then slid out of her.
After the explosion, he slowly got out of bed and headed for the shower. “Kenny, put some clothes on before one of my sisters sees you,” Tasha said, watching from the bed. She didn’t want to move. The orgasm she just had left her paralyzed. Her hair was everywhere. She swept it from her sweaty face and pulled it back slowly. She was exhausted.
As Montega went to grab a towel, his phone buzzed in his jeans pocket. Tasha reached out from the edge of the bed to grab it. “Know your role, shorty,” Montega said, approaching. “What you think you doin’?” he asked, grabbing his jeans before she got them.
“Damn, why can’t I answer your phone?” Tasha asked suspiciously.
“Because it ain’t your phone to answer. Fuck I look like? One of them tender-dick dudes you be meetin’ at the college?” he asked before answering the phone. “Yo, bol.”
“Yo, bol,” Razor inquired. “What’s the deal?”
“Ain’t shit. Just got up for the day.” Montega stuck his tongue out at Tasha, who had a pouty look on her face.
“Good, well, get dressed. I’m ’bout to walk around there. You know everybody hype because Mike just got out of jail. Shorties that ain’t been around in a few summers poppin’ up; dudes that used to beep the horn when they ride pass stoppin’ to kick it—fake shit but expected. Anyway, Mike wants to see you. He said meet him at the playground,” Razor informed him.
“Oh yeah? Aight, come on then. I’ll be waiting,” Montega replied before hanging up.
On hearing that, Tasha pouted even more. “Damn, bae, I swear you always ruin the moment with this crap. Why can’t you say ‘fuck the streets’ for once and give me some more of that dick?” Tasha whined before flopping back on the bed.
Montega watched as her tender breasts bounced freely before his eyes. He sighed and said, “I can’t, shorty. I gotta meet up with Razor.”
Tasha sucked her teeth. “I never seen anybody like you. I come all the way from Atlanta to be with you, sleep with you, feed you, and fuck you, and you jump right out of the pussy then go running out in the streets the moment your friends call you. Or maybe it’s you who doesn’t have any feelings for me. Which one is it? Because I’m totally lost right now.”
“Tasha, chill, yo,” Montega said tiresomely. “Why we always have to argue over stupid shit, especially shit like this? Don’t you know this bickering is annoying?”
“Because you’re always leaving me; that’s why.” She folded her arms with an attitude. “I’m tired of this, Kenny. I re
ally am.”
“Maaan, I ain’t going far. I’m only right around the corner. I’ll be back before you know it. All this stuff about feelings and whatever else you got stored up, save it for a girls’ night out with your friends because I ain’t tryna hear that right now. You know I love you,” he said, trying to get through to her. “But you can’t keep me caged in like some dog you got on a leash. I’ll never wear a leash. I’m a wolf… and wolves can’t be tamed… not like that, shorty.” He looked at his watch—a black G-shock sports with digital time. “Let me get ready before Razor get here.”
Tasha rolled her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, thinking, You must have never been to the zoo if you think I can’t contain you. Razor was Montega’s best friend, partner, and brother from another mother. She knew that there was nothing that could come between them, not even her. The truth was, she wanted to keep Montega off the streets. She planned on marrying him once she graduated from college and possibly have three beautiful kids with him, but Razor was always interfering. If he could help it, Razor wasn’t going to have his homie subjected to a spoiled, egotistical, control freak who didn’t like drug dealers. Razor knew that his homie had a lot more potential than that.
“Why can’t you stay with me? You know I have to go back to Atlanta in a few days,” she insisted.
“Stop whining, yo! I told you I’ll backtrack. Besides, Razor is on his way, and I can’t tell him to go back now. Plus, I gotta meet with my man. He just got out of jail,” he said, checking his G-shock again.
As he headed for the shower, Tasha wanted to ask him, what do you love more, me or the streets? She feared the answer she would get in return. Truthfully, Montega’s lust for spontaneity and risk was a lot more than she expected. Even though he was loyal and protective, which made her feel special, he couldn’t be faithful to just one woman. If that wasn’t enough for her to realize, then his love for the streets clenched it. Tasha knew then that regardless of how much she loved him, Montega would never change, and that meant that she would have to end their relationship. To her, there was no future for a drug dealer.
She could still remember the sight of her father lying on the cold concrete with five red holes in his chest. She could still smell the gunpowder from the smoking gun, still hear the footsteps as they faded in the distance. Her father had been murdered all because he didn’t want a few drug dealers selling crack in front of their home.
For standing up for his family, he paid for it with his life.
Five minutes later, the doorbell rang. Tasha, who was ripped from her thoughts, rolled her eyes, knowing exactly who it was. Throwing on some pajama pants and a T-shirt, she headed downstairs to answer the door.
When she opened it, a light-skinned guy with a small, curly ‘fro and a thick beard stood before her, dressed in a brown, two-piece Dickie set, some tan Butters, and a Cleveland Browns fitted cap tilted to the side.
He had an oval face sunken in with high cheekbones. His strong jawline hung like the crescent moon and was covered with dark, sparkling facial hair. He and Montega shared the same slender nose and thick lips, which left those that didn’t know them debating whether or not the two were related. Silky eyebrows were where the resemblance ended.
Razor was a hairy young man just like Montega’s brother, Taliban, but there was no mistaking his charm, even for a woman who despised him.
“Oh, hi, Razor,” she said, trying to disguise her distaste for him.
Razor could see right through her act. “Yo, where Montega at?” he asked as if he didn’t hear her.
If it was one thing she hated, it was drugs, but the main thing was the name everyone called her man—Montega.
Where did he get that name from? She thought.
Even Montega didn’t know why he took on such an attribute. All he could remember was waking up in a hospital bed with that name on his mind.
He grabbed Tasha by the waist, pulling her to him so that her boobs pressed against his chest, and her pelvis could feel the swell of his manhood. He dipped in and kissed her like a thirsty animal arriving to a waterhole. The kiss nearly took Tasha’s breath away. He then pulled back from her succulent, cherry-red lips, kissed Tasha on the cheek, and headed out the door, ready to start the day, hoping it wouldn’t be his last. Tasha watched him disappear behind the door, sucking on her bottom lip, wishing she could have extended the kiss a little longer. She hated having to face reality because behind it, there was always nothing but the truth. And the truth of the matter was that when Montega returned, she would be long gone… and so would their relationship.
Too Far Gone
BASKETBALL COURTS ON ARDLEIGH STREET…
“It’s a dog-eat-dog world… and I’m nobody’s next meal.”
Montega
It was a warm day in the city of Philadelphia. The golden sun rose high in the morning sky. A light breeze swept the streets of Summerville. Spring was fading away, giving birth to summer. Aside from the endless police sirens, the musical tune of Mr. Softy’s ice cream truck played from blocks away. Young kids begged their parents for dollars so they could purchase a cone of soft vanilla ice cream with sprinkles from the truck. Those that couldn’t get it from their parents ran to Ardleigh Street’s playground to get it from the drug dealers.
Montega dug in his pocket, gave two kids a dollar a piece, then watched as they ran off back around the corner. He stood outside the recreation center with Razor, J-Black, and Taliban, surrounded by females indulging in ghetto gossip. They all took turns making sales to every crackhead that came through the gate of the basketball court. The Lonnie Young Recreation Center was a female magnet during the spring and summer seasons. Divas, smuts, and whores from all over Germantown drove through, searching for a future boyfriend or sugar daddy to take care of them during the lonely nights.
Taliban was Montega’s biological brother on his dad’s side. Only a year younger, Taliban had a lighter complexion than his older brother and sported a thick beard and curly hair that he kept cut short. He and Montega were the same height, but it was the weight he put on that made him look stockier than his older brother.
Besides weed, which everybody smoked, Taliban enjoyed drinking syrup—be it purple or yellow, it didn’t matter. Many wouldn’t know by looking at him, but Taliban had a low tolerance for problems. His emotions changed like a chameleon behind a face that was always a mystery. Like his brother, he was a ticking time bomb, and no one knew when he would explode. He was the type who did things out on the streets to show off his recklessness just to make a name for himself. Even though his irresponsible behavior always hurt those he cared for, he refused to stop until everyone knew who he was. Regardless of his notorious reputation, everyone admired him because he was considered one of the top hustlers on the block—one that could sell fire to a match.
He could hustle off anything he got his hands on, even sheetrock. J-Black was also a good hustlers, but he made his real money as one of Million-Dollar Mike’s enforcers. Black’s vice, however, was the club. While others were trying to stack their paper to get rich, Black was blowing his money, partying like a rock star and sporting expensive clothes to impress the ladies. One would think he was a model rather than a killer.
While the guys stood around in white tees, cargo shorts, ACG sneakers, or Dickie sets and Butters, Black wore white Gucci Linen with sneakers to compliment his angelic appearance. He wore gold-framed Marc Jacob shades to hide his dark-brown eyes. Even though he wore the latest gear, his wardrobe wasn’t what got him in with the ladies. He was a slick talker with a bumpy face that only a mother could love.
“Where you been hidin’ for the past few days, Tega? Shit been hot as fish grease around here after KK and Smoke got merked,” J-Black stated.
“Why you think I ain’t been around?” Montega asked, walking through the black iron gates. “The Detectives been picking up everybody in the neighborhood and taking them down to the Round House. Reporters been snooping around, trying to get a private interview
. I ain’t never seen the news vans sliding through east G-town like they do now, so I fell the hell back.” Montega shrugged before going to stash his bundle under a broken boulder of concrete.
“You sure you ain’t been sneaking in nobody window with ya hammer out? You the one that play the early morning all the time,” Black said with suspicion.
KK was his first cousin. Although the two had a fallout, Black wouldn’t wish death on him, nor would he want to kick out money for a funeral his aunt didn’t have the funds to pay for. Now he was on the lookout for the killer.
Montega remained calm. He placed his hands in the pockets of his black Polo cargos and said, “What I need to kill somebody for?” He spat on the ground. “All these killers I got on my team, I should be a motherfucking coach. I ain’t making no noise. I been chillin’, tryna stack paper, feel me?”
“You mean boo-lovin’,” Razor replied as he passed the Dutch to one of the shorties sitting next to him.
Montega smirked. “You can say what you want, but when shit get hot, I fly to where the weather is cool. I ain’t sticking ’round here so these cops can see my face. It’s bad enough they be hopping out like Hannibal Smith and the A-Team on Blakemore. That’s why we over here now.”
“Shyit. After them murders, this block about to be the same way. On some real shit, who you think rocked them two down the block?” J-Black asked.
“Me, personally, I think it was the Phantom,” Montega stated as he glanced at Razor.
“Man, you keep rappin’ ’bout this Phantom dude. How come you the only one that seen ’em?” J-Black asked.