Finessed a Dope Boy’s Heart
Racquel Williams
www.urbanbooks.net
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue - Mika
Chapter One - Jakeel
Chapter Two - Shontelle
Chapter Three - Mika
Chapter Four - Jakeel
Chapter Five - Shontelle
Chapter Six - Mika
Chapter Seven - Rasheem
Chapter Eight - Mika
Chapter Nine - Jakeel
Chapter Ten - Rasheem
Chapter Eleven - Mika
Chapter Twelve - Gina
Chapter Thirteen - Shontelle
Chapter Fourteen - Jakeel
Chapter Fifteen - Mika
Chapter Sixteen - Gina
Chapter Seventeen - Rasheem
Chapter Eighteen - Jakeel
Chapter Nineteen - Mika
Chapter Twenty - Shontelle
Epilogue - Mika
Teaser chapter
Urban Books, LLC
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Finessed a Dope Boy’s Heart
Copyright © 2020 Racquel Williams
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-6455-6075-3
eISBN 13: 978-1-64556-076-0
eISBN 10: 1-64556-076-7
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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Prologue
Mika
Niggas nowadays ain’t worth shit! Now, that might come off harsh. But as I lay here in this bed thinking, I can’t seem to shake the feeling of how I ignored the signs of a no-good-ass nigga, all in the name of love. Check this . . . You can be a pretty bitch, phat ass, good pussy . . . You can have money, have a career . . . You could spend your entire life cooking for the nigga, cleaning for him, and sucking his old, dirty-ass dick, and that nigga will still find a reason to go out there and find a bitch who has nothing going on for her-damn-self. Not even a pot to piss in!
I wiped the single tear that dropped from my eye. Turning my head, I looked over at Rasheem, snoring as he lay on his back, mouth wide opened. That shit made me sick. You would think after fifteen years of marriage, I would get used to him sounding like a damn freight train. No matter how much I pled with him to lie on his stomach, he would start there, but then end up on his back. I shook my head in disgust.
I remember when I was head over heels over this man. I met him years ago, at a company party. Back then, he was well built, burnt chocolate. As he walked into the room, he caught the attention of many of us—including me. I was just getting over a breakup with my college sweetheart and was looking to get back into the dating world.
Our eyes locked, and he shot me a smile. I was tingling all over, but I remained cool. My bestie, Joy, nudged me in my side and then whispered in my ear.
“I don’t know who that lad is, but he is checking you out,” she said in her raw British accent.
“Girl, he sure is fine. But there are plenty of fine ladies here, including you.”
“Cut the foolishness. I saw how he smiled at you. I can tell when a man is digging a woman.”
I didn’t respond to her. Joy was in law school and could win any argument. I conceded with my silence and took a sip of the wine that I was drinking. As the evening went on, we danced and partied. My feet started hurting, so I decided to sit down. I didn’t realize how much I had drunk until I almost stumbled over the chair that I sat in.
“Here, let me get that for you.”
Someone grabbed the chair and pulled it closer to me. I looked up and noticed that it was the tall, sexy brother from earlier. I felt embarrassed. Here, I was drunk, and he had to rescue me. I tried my best to maintain my balance, hoping not to fall in front of him.
“Thank you. I got it,” I said politely.
I started to sit . . . and stumbled into him. He grabbed me and hugged me tightly. His strong cologne hit my nose and instantly gave me a high. I felt his warmth, and at that moment, I didn’t want him to let go.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hold you this long. Here, sit down,” he apologized.
After I took a seat, I busted out laughing. I’m not sure if it was because I was drunk or because he made me nervous. Either way, it was funny as hell to me.
“I hope you’re not laughing at me,” he said in a sexy, rough voice.
“No, no, I’m laughing at myself. Here I am, stumbling all over the place. I hope no one else notices it. I sure don’t want to be the topic of the office jokes on Monday.”
“You’re good. Trust me. Everyone else is occupied or too drunk to pay you any mind. By the way, where’re my manners? I’m Rasheem.”
“Hey, Rasheem. I’m Tamika, but my colleagues call me Mika.”
“I love the sound of that ‘Mika.’ Are you from here? Georgia?”
“Oh no, I’m from Mount Vernon, New York.”
“Wow! An up north girl. I see where the feistiness comes from.”
“What about you?”
“I was born and raised in Atlanta. I’m a Grady baby.”
The rest of the night, we continued talking about everything from jobs to personal life. I found out he was a detective at the Stone Mountain Police Station. He was recently divorced and the father of two. That should’ve been my cue to get to stepping, but my ass was feeling him. His conversation was very interesting, and he was a charmer. The rest of the night, we laughed and talked like we’d been knowing each other for years. When the party was over, we exchanged numbers.
It was hard to ignore that we were definitely feeling each other. One date turned into two dates, and on the third date, he invited me to his house. He was an officer, so I let my guard down and decided to go inside.
After about an hour of drinking and flirting, next thing you know, I was lying in his king-size bed, legs spread wide apart, and his head buried deep into my pussy. I screamed and moaned as he devoured me. He wasn’t shy and made sure pussy juice was all over his face. He pinned me down to the bed and punished my pussy, exploring every inch of my petite body.
“Oh my God, I can’t take it! Stop, please,” I begged as my legs trembled, and I exploded back-to-back.
As if he were just getting started, he lifted my legs in the air and sank his big, black, shiny rod all the way up in me. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. My head was touching the back of the bed, and he had my legs on his shoulders. He thrust in and out of me while he grinded. He looked me in my eyes as he made love to my pussy. This man knew exactly what he was doing. Not only was he fucking my pussy, but he was also fucking my soul too.
Growing up, I’d always dreamed of having a big house, the sexy-ass husband, and live a good life. I knew for me to get that, I had to work hard, and I did just that up to my mid-thirties. By the time I met Rasheem, my husband, I had a few dollars in the bank and was at the height of my career. Meeting him was like putting the icing on the cake. He was a well-established detective in the homicide divisi
on and a prominent member of his community.
After dating for about a year, he popped the question to me, and I quickly accepted. A few days later, I found out I was pregnant with our daughter Ky’Imani. It was a blessing because, for years, I had problems conceiving. I always call her my miracle child.
After giving birth to Ky’Imani, we had a huge wedding. To be honest, I wanted a small one with only our families and close friends. But not Rasheem Blake. He wanted a big wedding so he could show off. So, that’s what we had. The chief of police, lawyers, and other officers were all present. I kind of felt like he did it to earn bragging rights. But I didn’t have to pay a dollar, so why was I complaining?
I wish I could’ve seen the fucking future, ’cause I wouldn’t be here in this bed right now. Everything started off good. We both rented out our houses and bought a six-bedroom house in Snellville. I was excited to be a mom, now I had the husband, and everything was going to be good.
Wrong! I realized this nigga was a fraud, and this was how I got here....
Chapter One
Jakeel
Three Days Earlier
Friday Morning
“Inmate Greene, to R&D. Inmate Greene to R&D,” the bitch hollered over the intercom.
I grabbed my things and ran out of the unit. I was well on my way through the compound when a few of my niggas stopped me to wish me well and tell me to make sure I didn’t forget about them.
“A’ight, homie. Make sure you fuck plenty’a bitches and send me them videos, bra,” my nigga Rell said as we exchanged dap.
“Last call for Inmate Greene. Jakeel Greene, report to R&D.”
I grabbed my two manila envelopes, along with the shower bag that contained the few pieces of clothes that I owned. Then I started jogging until I got to the building.
“What were you doing? You must not want to go home,” the old CO, Miss Betty, said as she shot me a dirty look.
I wanted to tell that bitch to suck my dick, but instead, I just looked at her and shook my head. FCI Beckley had been my home for the last seven years. The Feds knocked me off with a burner and a few ounces of crack. The bullshit lawyer I had told me it was better for me to cop out instead of going to trial against the Feds. My dumb ass thought I was getting about three to five years. Instead, the judge gave me seven fucking years. I could’ve walked a year and a half ago, but I caught a few shots that pushed my time back.
I tried to get into the drug program, but because of my previous gun charge, I wasn’t eligible. So I manned up and played the hand that I was dealt.
“Here go your bus ticket and a stipend of $200. You’re to check in with your probation officer in the Atlanta office at 9:00, Monday morning. Good luck out there.”
“A’ight,” I said, keeping it short and sweet. I wasn’t tryin’a stay in this bitch no longer than I had already. And I damned sure wasn’t tryin’a give they asses no reason to put me back in that damn cage. I ain’t even chuck her ass the deuces. The way these muthafuckas was, they would accuse a nigga of throwing up some kinda gang sign.
I followed the dude outside to the car. He was taking three other niggas and me to the bus station. The air was crisp, clear, and the sky was blue. I stopped for a moment just to get a whiff of the fresh air. This seemed unreal. It felt good but strange at the same time. I turned around and took one last look at the high barbed wired building. Fuck these crackers. I ain’t coming back.
This was what freedom felt like after years of being locked up. I paid attention to everything that we drove past. I was like a kid in a candy store. I was eager to reach the station so that I could be away from any and everything that was related to that damn place.
Minutes later, my wish was granted as we pulled into the bus station. I looked to see if I spotted Shontelle. She told me she would be driving a black Dodge Charger.
I got out of the car and looked around. I felt out of place like everyone was staring at me. I tried not to stare back. It was brick outside, so I decide to walk into the Greyhound Bus Station.
“Keel, Keel,” I heard someone yell.
I stopped and looked behind me to see who it was in case somebody I ain’t wanna see had caught wind that I was getting out today. I was relieved to know that it was Shontelle running toward me full speed. She ran straight into my arms.
“What’s good, shorty?”
She grabbed my head and started kissing me passionately. I hugged her tightly and cupped her ass, bringing her closer to me. It felt good to be able to be this close to a female. My dick started to get hard as she pressed up against it. Shit, we needed to get out of here.
“Come on, shorty. Let’s get the fuck up outta here.”
“Sorry. I’m just happy to see you, baby,” she said, smiling from ear to ear. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that she missed a nigga.
“Same here, love.” I smiled down at her in return, happy that somebody out here gave a damn about me. We held hands while we walked over to the parking lot where she was parked.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off Shontelle’s hips and the way they swung from side to side. See, Shontelle was my main bitch before I caught my case. She wasn’t the only bitch I was fucking but definitely the only bitch that I could say I loved. She’d gained some weight while I was gone, but it made her sexier. I couldn’t wait to get to the crib so that I could suck and beat the pussy up. Shit, more like punish the pussy.
* * *
“Oh shit, this pussy is so good, bae,” I panted as I tried to catch my breath while I fucked Shontelle doggie style.
“Daddy, this your pussy,” she said in between moans.
I grabbed her hips tighter as I thrust deeper into her guts. I was famished. It’d been years since I had a piece of ass. All I’d known was my palm and some lotion. This was different. It was wet and tight, gripping my dick. I was in straight beast mode. I closed my eyes, trying to savor the moment. I tried my best not to focus on what I was doing, hoping I wouldn’t bust too quickly, but I couldn’t hold it any longer. My veins started getting bigger, and I felt like my head was about to explode.
“Damn, you tearing out my pussy,” she cried out. Shit, just a minute ago, she was bouncing around on the dick. Now, she was crying for help. I paid her no mind. I knew how Shontelle was. Even when the dick was good, she still cried out.
“Fuck! Fuck! Damn! Maaan.” I exploded inside her pussy.
I pulled my limp dick out and fell on the bed. I was exhausted and tired, so I just lay there.
“Damn, Keel, you didn’t have to fuck me this hard.”
“I’m sorry, bae. I thought you were loving it.”
“Boy, fuck you. You know I ain’t been fucking nothing since you been gone, so my shit hurts like hell.” She pouted and got off the bed. Looking at her fine, sexy body made me want to go a second round, but I wasn’t a fool. I needed to get my energy back up first.
I sat up and lit a cigarette. This was like heaven. Just got my first piece of ass and now smoking a Newport. I wished I could hit the weed, but I had to see my probation officer Monday morning. I wasn’t trying to give her no dirty piss, so this Newport would have to do. It was better than what I had in lockup, so I wasn’t gonna complain. And since I sure as hell wasn’t tryin’a go back to that hellhole, I wasn’t tryin’a test shit ’round here. At least, not until I felt this probation officer out.
* * *
I was up bright and early the next morning. In the pen, we had to be up at 5:00 a.m., booted and suited. You didn’t want to get caught slipping if a fight popped off. After I took a shower, I got dressed. First things first, I needed to get me a cell and then hit up the mall. When I got torn off, I had a few dollars at my mama’s crib. I needed to go over there and grab that.
“Aye, babes, what’s your plan for today?” I asked Shontelle, looking over my shoulder at her in the bed. She was laid up with her face resting in her hand, watching me get dressed.
“I thought we were just going to chill.” She shot me
a dirty look.
“I mean, we can chill later. But I ain’t got shit but this bullshit-ass prison gear. I need to go see my mama and them first, then hit up the mall.”
“So you want me to take you? I got to be at the shop by ten.”
“Nah, I was hoping you’ll let me drop you off.”
“Drop me off? So you can have your bitches all up in my shit?” She hopped up like the suggestion had really offended her. Standing there, butt-ass naked, she put her hands on her waist.
“Man, come on with that bullshit, babes. That was seven years ago. I told you I’ve changed. I’m no longer on no bullshit with you. Babes, it’s just us.”
“Uh-huh, niggas say anything when they locked up. I pray to God you changed your ways ’cause I’m not dealing with you and these hoes any longer. I was the only one that was making those long-ass trips and faithfully making sure money was on your books. I’m warning you, Keel. You better stay away from these bitches.”
“Babes, you worrying over nothing. I ain’t trippin’ off none of these hoes out here.”
She shot me a look and walked off. I knew I was a dog back in the day. Yeah, I done fucked multiple bitches. I can’t say I’ma be faithful, ’cause I ain’t never been the type of nigga to fuck only one bitch. I was a nigga that made money, and with that, the bitches were known to come around, making it hard just to fuck one bitch. But like I told shorty, I’m a changed man. I chuckled to myself, ’cause who I was fooling? I was still that nigga deep down inside, but out of respect for Shontelle and the way she held me down, I was at least gon’ try not to let the shit get back to her about what I was gon’ be doin’ out here in these streets . . . eventually.
It felt weird driving after all these years, but like the old heads used to say, “Once you learn to drive, you can’t ever forget.” I dropped Shontelle off at work and headed to my mama’s house, where I pulled up into the driveway and walked to the door. I rang the doorbell and waited.
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