by Noire
But Mello had a real tender side too. A side that he didn’t show to many people, and Eva felt special as he began to show it to her. He had sworn to her that he didn’t have no babies or no baby mamas lurking in the alley waiting to jump out and ambush Eva’s ass. Eva thought Mello would make a bomb father, though. Not a typical baby-daddy, but a real father. She wished her son could have been born to a man like Mello, if only fate would have been kinder to her and worked things out that way, the three of them could have been living like a real family.
So, with Fiyah locked up and Alex picking up singing gigs like crazy, Eva was grateful to have Mello in her life. She liked being with him and listening to his dreams of owning his own business one day and getting both of them outta Harlem. Mello’s moms had died when he was sixteen, and although he had a little bit of raggedy family members scattered around, he had been hustling on the streets and earning his own way ever since.
Mello was a big kid who liked to discover all kinds of new things, and in a way, so was Eva. They went to movies and museums and fantasized about all their future dreams. They also discovered how to please each other in the sheets, and in his arms Eva learned to let go of her past demons and enjoy what she was being blessed with at the moment. Mello was a deep, but tender lover. He put his sex thang down on her in a way that was so hot and so perfect that Eva sometimes wanted to cry while he was up inside of her.
Eva’s early introduction to sex had been so violent and traumatic. It had taken her a long time to convince herself that the tinglings that went on between her legs were actually good and not bad. Because of what she’d been through she had naturally associated sex with fear and shame, but she’d come out of it slowly, and was finally able to enjoy her adult body without relating it to her childhood sins.
She had damn near blacked out the first time she saw Mello naked. They had gone to a movie, and afterward Mello had invited her to his room to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Eva might have been beautiful, but she wasn’t a spoiled diva. She looked for the size of the heart in a man instead of the thickness of his wallet. She knew Mello probably made good bank taking photos and selling his products on 125th Street, but she didn’t care if he fed her lobster or if they just drank lemonade. Where some females woulda got swole behind a dude inviting them to a jelly sandwich, Eva got excited.
Both of them laughed while they ate in Mello’s room, which was really more like a studio. It was clean and well organized, and Eva felt honored that he had allowed her to come up into his personal space.
They sat on his red leather sofa and kissed in front of the plasma TV. Mello had kept his hands to himself, letting his lips and tongue feel Eva out to see how much of him she wanted. It wasn’t long before Eva let him know that she wanted it all. Breaking their embrace, she stood up and slowly began to un-button her shirt. She took her time coming out of it. She wanted him to see exactly what she had to offer, and she didn’t want him to miss a damn thing.
Her bright yellow bra came off next, and Mello’s eyes grew lidded as he gazed at her naked, majestic breasts. Eva had to squirm a little bit to get out of her jeans, but Mello didn’t seem to mind. Of course she added a few extra sexy gyrations in there that had him licking his lips in anticipation. Finally she stood before him in nothing except a bright yellow thong. Her gorgeous brown curves were extra tantalizing. Mello was speechless as she peeled that off too, stepping out of it and leaving it there on the floor.
Mello had torn off his clothes in a fraction of the time it had taken Eva to get out of hers. It was her turn to be struck speechless by the perfectly sculpted man who stood naked and erect before her. Mello had a body that looked like it came out of a men’s fitness magazine. His chest bulged with natural muscle and his arms were thick and strong. Eva’s gaze had fallen to his tight, tapered waist. She stared at all that brilliant dick muscle that lay flat up against his pretty stomach, touching his navel, and sighed.
Just looking at him was enough to make Eva cum. They’d gotten freaky as fuck that night. Mello was one of them strong-backed brothas who could mash that shit up all night long. He’d licked Eva’s tight brown body from the birthmark under her chin down to the tiny mole on her stomach. His lips had crawled over her breasts and gently sucked her nipples until Eva arched her back and felt cream dripping from her slit.
She had lain there panting like an old lady, but Mello was just getting started. He had tickled that sweet spot she had behind her knee, then lapped at the sweat that had beaded under her right breast. His breath hit her skin in short, hot bursts. Eva had moaned as he bent her knees and slid her legs back in the shape of an M. Her pussy was throbbing and leaking so bad she could smell her juices as they boiled between her legs.
Cupping her ass in his big strong hands, Mello had nestled down between her legs. Eva remembered freezing. Fear was crawling over her and sending her temperature down to a bitter cold zone. He’s gonna see your track marks, the wounded part of her mind told her. She’d made sure to put makeup on her arms and legs, but it didn’t make sense to mess up her panties with all that brown gunk. He’s gonna know what kind of person you really are.
Mello musta noticed that something about her had changed, because he looked up at her with a concerned look on his face. “We can stop if you want to, baby. Just say the word. We ain’t gotta do nothing. I’d be cool just holding you all night.”
Those few words, spoken in such sincerity and tenderness, were enough to get Eva’s blood stoked again. She shook her head no, then blocked out that fearful voice that came back to haunt her every now and then. She lay back and spread her legs even wider for Mello. She gave up the pussy without reservation as he kissed and nuzzled her thighs. Before she knew it, she was arching her back. Urging him to get to that hot spot even faster. Mello massaged the entrance of her pussy with his tongue. Then he dove deep inside of her. Like he was trying to drown himself in her wet tunnel.
Eva’s clit had swollen up big and fat. It throbbed and ached as he lathered her pussy up. She sighed with pleasure the moment his lips touched the most tender spot on her body. Eva’s hips moved on their own as he sucked that clit into his mouth. He spread her pussy lips open wider and Eva almost fainted. She held on to his head as Mello licked her from the bottom to the top. His lips moving constantly as he devoured every drop of cum that slipped from her body.
It was the experience of a lifetime for Eva. She had never opened herself up like this to a man before. Her body trembled as it roared toward an explosion. She squirmed all over the bed as he tongue-fucked her with short, erotic strokes. Eva whimpered and cried. She never knew anything could feel this good. And when she reached that peak and wrapped her legs around Mello’s head, driving her hips toward the ceiling, she screamed his name. Over and over, until the last sparks of fire slowly subsided in the pit of her pussy, and the muscles in her legs and stomach felt squishy with exhaustion.
Thank you, baby. Thank you.
But it wasn’t just the sex that had Eva open on Ice Mello. He was a total package and he knew it would take more than good dick to win Eva’s heart. Mello was sensuous and protective at the same time. He had this way of coming up behind her and holding her close that just blew her mind. He would reach down and scoop her up from her ankles all the way up to her tiny waist. His big strong arms would encircle her breasts as he sheltered her from behind, and this made her feel safe and sexy all at once.
For Eva, sex had finally come to mean love and security instead of fear and pain, and with a man like Mello giving up good dick and good loving, her body and her mind were both completely satisfied.
Fiyah sat on his bunk waiting. He was amped, and every muscle in his body was ready for movement. He’d spent almost nine months waiting for this day, and when he heard the heavy footsteps of the COs on the tier, the sound was like music in his ears.
The guards’ boots fell into a rhythm. A beat developed in Fiyah’s mind and he nodded his head to it. His cell door slid
open and that’s when his mental music began.
Fiyah grinned inside. There were two types of time an inmate could do. Good time and bad time. Fiyah’s time had been all good. Free from all the predatory shit that goes on in the pen, Fiyah had dedicated every spare moment to perfecting his grind. He had refocused on his goal as an artist and a performer, and he’d built up mad confidence that he had what it took to become a major powerhouse in the rap industry. He had the skills. All he needed was the means and the opportunity and the world would be his.
“Let’s go, Perez.” Two guards had come to lead Fiyah out, and both of them were rookies.
Stepping out of his cell was just like stepping off the edge of the world. Fiyah was entering a new universe. One that he was ready to completely own, and that shit felt good.
He walked down the tier harder than a muhfuckah. With the guards flanking him on both sides, Fiyah imagined that he was walking past the ropes at Bricks, and the COs were his personal bodyguards.
Fantasy images played out in his mind, blocking out all reality. Instead of cold-blooded criminals hanging out on the tier, he saw ballers chilling in booths. Phat-assed waitresses with jiggly titties. Delivering Cristal and Krug on silver trays. Down at the command station, Fiyah saw a stage. That shit was just a crawling with half-naked pole dancers. The fantasy intensified and Fiyah was up on the stage. Music was blaring and the crowd was wildin’ as Fiyah spit some of the most prolific shit these industry insiders had ever heard.
“Sign here,” said a requisitions guard. He passed Fiyah a brown envelope containing the personal property he’d had on him the night he got knocked. Fiyah felt like he was in a music video. He saw the guard as a bartender. Serving him a drink.
Reality hit him as soon as they opened the door. The bright summer morning hollered at him as he stepped on free ground for the first time in almost a year.
“You be good now,” one of the guards told him before closing the gate.
Fiyah nodded. “I’m always good.”
He rode a prison bus over the bridge from Rikers Island. Halfway over, he spotted another bus. It was full of inmates heading toward The Rock. Fiyah rubbed his eyes and sighed, happy as fuck that he was traveling in the opposite direction.
Fiyah got off the bus on the Queens side of the bridge and stood with the prison at his back. New York had never looked so fuckin’ good. Walking along the sidewalk behind a couple of other cats who had just been released, he was about to look for a bus or subway and head to Harlem when a black extended-version Escalade with sparkling spinners rolled up.
Fiyah froze as the driver’s-side window started inching down.
Some square-faced bitch who looked like a dude nodded at him and said, “What’s good, ak?”
Fiyah looked past the dyke driver and his chest tightened when he saw who was in the back.
“Get in.”
Goddamn! Fiyah’s heart banged hard. He’d been hoping the one-month head start Brody had on him woulda dulled that niggah’s memories but obviously it hadn’t. Brody had been hyped about getting with Eva before leaving The Rock.
“Listen, man,” he’d told Fiyah. “I got a whole lotta bitches on a long rope, but a chick like your cousin could be my queen. She’s perfect, man. I wanna put her on a fuckin’ pedestal and worship that phat ass, man. You get in her ear and make that shit happen, and I promise I’ll make her a happy bitch. That’s what’s real.”
Fiyah wasn’t banking on none of that, but he’d figured once Brody hit the bricks there’d be so many fine-ass honeys strolling the streets of Harlem that he’d forget all about Eva and be gobbling up sweet young bitches like they was multiflavored Skittles.
He stared into the car. Brody’s head was gleaming and his eyes were like ice.
“Get in, muhfuckah.”
That shit wasn’t a request. It was an order.
Fiyah opened the back door and got in.
King Brody was a large nig. His custom whip smelled like new leather and the interior had been redesigned so the middle row of seats faced the back row—like in a limo.
Fiyah slid into the middle row and sat facing Brody and two fine-ass chicks. There was a dude sitting on Fiyah’s left. He nodded at the guy, and dude just grilled him. He was a big cat too, almost as big as Brody. Matter fact they kinda looked alike, and Fiyah figured they was prolly brothers or cousins.
He looked all the way left and saw another chick. A Latina. She was leaning against the window holding a frosty can of beer to her breast and looking whipped.
Brody grinned, and reached out for a dap.
“You done touched down, man.”
Some guy sitting in the front passenger seat lit a blunt. Skimming Fiyah’s head with the lit end, he reached over and passed it to Brody.
That shit had come way too close, but Fiyah forced himself to chill like his ear wasn’t hot and nothing was up. “Yeah, it took a minute to get outta there, nah’mean? They quick as fuck to lock you down but slow when it’s time to let you go.”
“Yo.” Brody grinned, touching his chest. “Who the fuck am I? I ain’t no fuckin’ body. I ain’t got no problem waiting for the next Daddy Yankee, my man.”
Fiyah had been hearing that Daddy Yankee comparison the whole time he was locked up. Even under the present circumstances that shit still puffed him up with pride.
“Thanks, man,” he said, his voice low.
“Nah,” Brody said real loud, putting Fiyah’s shit on blast. “That’s the truth, man. Yo,” he spoke to his posse. “This dude was spittin’ crack when we was on that tier. His shit is airtight. That’s what’s up.”
Suddenly Brody’s mood changed. “Rolo,” he ordered his female driver. Fiyah glanced back. The gay chick looked scary. Like she fucked from the top and slung big balls. “Get us the fuck outta here.”
They rode through the streets of Queens, heading toward the highway.
“So what’s poppin’, son?” Brody asked. “What kinda trouble you tryna get into?”
Fiyah shrugged. “I’ma prolly try to get at a couple of dollas, hit some skin, get in the booth and lay a few tracks…Gotta fuck with my PO…”
Brody waved. “Fuck that PO shit. Don’t stress about that muhfuckah. He gotta catch you before he can send you back. The gwap ain’t a issue, neither. We put in work around here and we bank plenty of cheese. But your sounds, man, that’s the key. That’s what’s gonna take you all the way, yo. And don’t sweat that gushy neither. We swimmin’ in women. You want some quick head, you can tap Charlene here. That’s what this old bitch is for.”
He turned to a girl in a yellow dress.
“Yo, how old is you anyway?”
She pushed out her big chest and sat up straight. “I just turned twenty-one.”
Brody laughed, and mushed her back down in the seat. “Damn! This bitch almost ready for a fuckin’ wheelchair! Fuck all that. I like ’em young, bro.”
Brody paused, then said quietly, “Eva’s eighteen, right?”
“Eva?”
“Yo!” Brody exploded. “What the fuck is really good with that? They stuck your ass in the stupid cell when I left or something? We made a deal, muhfuckah! Five gorilla muhfuckahs and five big hard dicks! Ready to put in work rodding up your spic ass! Do you remember that shit!?!”
Fiyah was shook. He nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I remember. Eva’s eighteen.”
“I thought so,” Brody said, grilling the fuck outta him. That niggah was breathing hard and his muscles jumped like he wanted to do something.
“Don’t fuck with me, Fiyah. You bring that young pussy straight to Big Brody, ya heard?”
Brody took a hit off the end of his blunt and blew that shit out in Charlene’s face. She played her role, leaning her sexy little ass into him and breathing the smoke in like it was oxygen. With his eyes locked dead on Fiyah’s, Brody untied a ribbon at the scoop neck of her yellow dress. Her titties looked bold and firm and Fiyah couldn’t stop his dick from leaping in his drawers. But
there was something else down the front of her dress too. At first he thought it was a tattoo, but when Brody held his fist out and laughed, Fiyah saw a bright red brand in the shape of a big B. It matched the platinum B on the oversized ring Brody sported on his middle finger.
Brody turned the other way. The skinny Latina girl in the red shirt was still leaning up against the window. Brody slapped the beer can out of her hand and it landed on the floor between their feet.
Fiyah knew what was up the moment he saw the dull gray blister standing out on the bulge of her breast. And Brody wanted to make sure he knew. He held his fist out and lined up his ring with the raw mirror image that was on her breast, then punched it into her so hard the girl yelped and slumped over, clutching her burned flesh.
Brody grinned. “Big B likes that fresh meat, yo. He likes it a lot.”
Fiyah sat still. His face was like stone.
“Yo, Bullet,” Brody said, nodding toward the guy who was his younger brother. Earn ya fuckin’ keep, niggah! Crack that bottle, man. I wanna sip a little sumpthin’ with Fiyah here because I got faith in this niggah now.”
Bullet poured and Brody spoke quietly. “You in with me now. Dig? You my newest lieutenant.” Bullet passed him a red laminate and Brody tossed it to Fiyah. “Show up at Bricks tonight. You been runnin’ up a tab in the joint, muhfuckah, and now it’s time for you to show and prove.”
King Brody took a swig from his glass. “Yo. Charlene.” He elbowed the chick in the yellow dress.
“Bitch find something to do. My man Fiyah just got outta jail, stupid. Go sit over there next to him and treat him right.”
Almost nine months on lock was enough to make the strongest cat lose control. Fiyah tried to play that shit off. He sat there with his face as hard as stone. Moments later he was cursing inside for being such a weak muhfuckah. He wanted to be cool like he wasn’t affected, but when mami in all that yellow got down between his legs and started yanking on his dick, he was done. Brody and his crew laughed, but Fiyah didn’t give a fuck. Right then it wouldn’t have mattered if his mother was in the back of that fuckin’ Escalade. The way that chick slurped on his dick and massaged his balls? He pushed down on her head as he mouth-fucked her like it was just the two of them in the whip. Her tongue felt softer than butter. She licked his swollen head in tiny hot circles. It didn’t take but three or four quick strokes before he busted his nut, but after dreaming about getting some for over eight months, Charlene’s neck pussy was just what he needed.