“Ask and you shall receive.” He grabs the back of my ass and spreads my ass cheeks wide so he can get a good look at him entering my pussy from behind. My mouth sags open as he slowly eases into me. When he’s halfway in, I start tightening up.
“FUUUUUCK.” Keston grinds his back teeth together.
Pussy juice stars pouring down my leg. I reach down and start fingering my clit until I see stars. Soon after, Keston starts rotating his hips and sends me to another galaxy. When he’s finally balls-deep, he hunches over and replaces the hand I have on my clit with his.
“You love me, baby?” he asks.
“Y-yes.”
“Then let me hear that shit.”
“I l-love you.”
His hips pick up speed. “How much?”
“I love you with all … my heart.”
His hand, hips, and dick intensify their rhythm. The sofa actually starts banging against the wall. The next thing I know, every cell in my body is cumming, and I’m screaming I don’t know what up at the ceiling.
“Whoo. Look at you, baby,” he says, pulling out and showing me how much I drenched his cock. He puts it back up against my mouth and orders me to clean him up. Once that’s done, he lies down on the floor, and I saddle up in my favorite backward cowgirl position and start riding into the sunset. When Keston’s toes start twitching, I know that it won’t be long. Sure enough, he grabs the bottom of my ass and starts roaring. A second later, his warm cum gushes out of my pussy and makes a pretty mess.
We take a long shower together and then snuggle up in my bed. I want to go to sleep, but we still have some unresolved issues between us. Yet, I’m afraid to bring it up, because I don’t want him to think that I just fucked the shit out of him just so I can avoid going to jail.
After a long while, it seems that he’s learned the art of hearing my private thoughts.
“I’m not going to turn you in,” he says.
Instantly, I sag with relief.
“But the Jackal is going back into retirement,” he says.
“Absolutely,” I say, and then cross my heart.
“And then me and you are going to get married.”
“What?” I sit up in bed.
He pulls me back down. “You heard me.” He nuzzles a kiss against my neck. “Someone has to watch you and make sure that you stay on your best behavior.”
I don’t know what to say. Married? Me? I’m thrilled and overwhelmed at the same time. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Now lie down and take your ass to sleep.”
I cup his face and pull his lips into a deep kiss. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too.”
I lie down and fold his arms over me so that we can spoon. With so much shit going on lately, I can’t believe that I’ve actually managed to find a little ray of happiness with this man. I’m almost too giddy to fall asleep. Before tonight, I didn’t even know my ass wanted to get married.
I guess that it’s never too late to change.
Chapter Nineteen
Keston’s head pops up at the familiar sound of his cell phone ringing. For a few seconds, he actually contemplates letting the damn thing go to voice mail, but he knows that shit will only raise suspicions. He lifts his arm from Jordan and rolls over to pick up his phone.
“Hello?”
“What did you find out?”
“Hold on.” He carefully climbs out of bed and heads toward the bathroom. He quietly shuts the door behind him. “Hello.”
“Yes?”
“Everything is cool. She no longer works for the DEA. She quit, so I’m sure her access to her computer has been terminated.”
“And you believe her?”
“There’s no reason for her to lie to me. She trusts me.”
“Just another trick out of your magic box?”
“Something like that.”
“Still. It would have been nice to have a new set of eyes at the DEA office since my nephew fucked up my contact with Agent Baker.”
“Sorry, she’s a dead end. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll keep a close eye on her.”
“That sounds like far beyond the call of duty.” He laughs. “Something tells me that you’ve fallen for her.”
Keston doesn’t answer.
Hector Guzman laughs. “All right, my friend. You can keep an eye on her for as long as you like. And what about that other matter?”
“The Jackal?”
“Yeah. Have you been able to get a lead on Jonathan Banks? Has he come out of retirement?”
“Nah. I don’t think this new Jackal has anything to do with the old man.”
“Humph. That’s a shame. Jonathan was a great employee back in the day. Anyway, if you get anything on this new Jackal, let me know.”
“Will do, Hector.”
“All right. I’ll be in touch.”
Keston disconnects the call and then curses under his breath. He hates this bullshit, playing both sides of the game. He needs to tell Jordan the whole truth before this shit gets out of hand. He opens the bathroom door to go creep back to bed, but he stops short when he sees Jordan standing there with her arms crossed.
“Important phone call?”
“How long have you been standing there?” he asks suspiciously.
“So you’ll keep a close eye on me, huh?”
He reaches for her. “Jordan …”
“Don’t touch me.” She steps back. “Who was that on the phone?”
“Just … work. Please, let’s just go back to sleep, Jordan.”
She shakes her head and steps back again. “You said no one else knew about me at the department, so who was that asking about the Jackal?”
He clamps his mouth shut.
“No more fucking secrets!” Jordan shouts. “All my fucking cards are on the table. Who the hell are you reporting my job status to? Why are they so concerned about my access to the DEA?”
Keston draws in a deep breath and wrestles with what to do.
“Goddamn it, Keston. Don’t tell me all this shit is just a lie. Don’t you fucking dare.”
“It’s not a lie,” he finally says, shaking his head. “I just haven’t told you the whole truth.”
“Which is?”
“I am an FBI agent. An undercover agent. And for the last couple years, my department has been concerned about systematic leaks in a number of federal agencies. In that time, it seems some of the larger cartels were always one step ahead of us on busts, arrests, or even minor investigations. Then we got lucky when I was approached to work for Hector Guzman. So with my director’s approval, I accepted the job. We thought it was the only way for us to find out about other dirty agents.”
“Guzman?” Her eyes widen. “So I was right? You did set me up!”
“No, no,” he says firmly. “That was not me. That had to be someone in your department—the leak I was looking for.”
Jordan cocks her head. “You thought I was the leak.”
Silence.
“I don’t believe this.” She laughs.
“You’re telling me. I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with a DEA agent-slash-bank robber.”
Jordan turns and starts pacing around the bedroom. “This is quite a mess.”
“It’s complicated, but we can work this shit out. With you no longer at the DEA and breaking into banks, you and the Jackal will fall off everyone’s radar.” He walks over to her and takes her hands. “We’ll get married, buy a big house, and fill it with lots of babies.”
“And what will I do for my adrenaline fix?”
Keston pulls her close while pressing her hand against his hardening erection. “I don’t know. I have a few ideas.” He kisses her. “Let’s go back to bed.”
She takes a moment to study him. This is it. To trust or not to trust. Her heart and her head battle each other, but in the end she knows Keston is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. She can’t see herself tossing it away like her parents and then living with regret for
the next twenty-five years.
“Okay,” she says, allowing him to pull her along. Once she’s snuggled back against him, their hands start to explore each other once again.
“I love you so much, Jordan,” he whispers in between kisses.
“Keston, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, baby. Anything.”
“Can you call me Robyn? I think I prefer it.”
He chuckles as he pulls her close. “Sure, baby. Whatever you like.”
Epilogue
Two years later …
Doctors don’t know shit. Today Sandra and I celebrate our second wedding anniversary on the day Robyn and Keston are going to bring home my first grandchild, a baby boy, from the hospital. I’m already imagining all the fun things I’m going to teach him, and they have nothing to do with how to crack a safe or disable a security system. My boys—Rawlo, Tremaine, and Mishawn—and I never did get around to pulling the last job. We all decided that it was best how we left it: going out on top.
Right now, me and the boys’ main job is getting this damn nursery together before Robyn and Keston come home from the hospital. But so far the instructions for the baby bed don’t make any sense—in English or in Spanish.
“I think that we need a different type of screwdriver,” Mishawn says. “I wonder if my son has any other tools around here.”
I pull myself off the floor. “I’ll go check the shed out back.”
“I’ll come with you,” Rawlo says. “I need to see if he has another drill bit.”
Together, we walk out the back door. “So how does it feel being a new grandfather?”
“It makes me feel old. What the hell do you think?” I laugh. We approach the shed and notice the padlock. We just laugh as Rawlo pulls out a small pin and five seconds later has the lock off.
“You still got it, man.” I pound him on the back and then pull the door open. We frown as we enter the small shed crammed with miscellaneous junk. “Okay. Where would my son-in-law keep his tools?” I start looking around until I hear Rawlo crash and hit the floor. “Rawlo, man. Are you all right?”
He moans and groans, and I go over to see him struggling to get up. “What the hell did I trip over?”
I glance around on the floor and see a steel handle poking up. “What the hell is this?” I walk over and squat down. “Another padlock.”
“What the hell would they have buried in the floor?” Rawlo asks, still struggling to lift his massive frame off the floor.
“You need some help, man?”
“Nah. I got it.”
“Mind working your magic on this lock?”
“You sure?”
“We’re looking for tools. There could be tools down here.”
“Or, most likely, you’re just being nosy.” He waves a finger in my face.
“All right. Never mind.” I start to walk away when Rawlo grabs me by the arm.
“But we should check to make sure.”
“Uh-huh.” I cock a smile to let him know that he’s not fooling me. “Hit the lock.”
“You ain’t said nothing but a word.” Five seconds later, the padlock comes off.
“Now let’s see what’s in this baby.” I pull the metal door up and see a large blue tarp. “What the hell?” Squatting down, I start tugging at the tarp. “Holy shit.” I stare at stack after stack of hundreddollar bills.
“Is that shit real?” Rawlo reaches down and picks up a stack. “Fuck.” He looks up at me, and for a few seconds we just stare at each other. “Where the hell would they get money like this?” he asks.
I notice a black box on the other side, so I stand and reach for it. Rawlo waits to look in the box as well. When I open it, I see piles upon piles of newspaper clippings. “The Jackal,” I whisper.
“What? About us?”
I shake my head. “These are from a couple of years ago.” Our eyes connect again. “They never did find that new guy, did they?”
“Not that I remember,” Rawlo says. “Keston?”
I start to shrug when I notice a stuffed teddy bear buried in the tarp as well. “Fred.”
“Who?”
I close the box and reach down for the teddy bear. “Hey, fella, I remember you.”
“You want to clue a brother in?”
I laugh. “I bought Fred here for Robyn back when she was … I think like six years old. She named him Fred. Like in Fred Flintstone.”
“Okay. So what does that mean? This is her stash? She is the Jackal? C’mon now.”
Pride suddenly puffs out my chest. “It’s possible. Like father like daughter.”
“That doesn’t rule out Keston.”
I gasp. “What if they’re a team? You know, like Bonnie and Clyde.”
“Clearly with a happier ending.”
The shed door squeaks, and we both look up to see Robyn. “What are you two doing out here?”
Rawlo tosses the money back down. “Um, I came out here looking for a drill bit. Your father made me pick the locks.”
I turn toward Rawlo, stunned by just how fast he threw me under the bus. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Robyn folds her arms. “Dad?”
“We did come out here looking for tools, but I think the real question is where did all this money come from?”
A small smile curves across her face. “I think you need to come to the house and meet your new grandson,” she says smoothly, changing the subject.
“Okay, okay, but answer this: you or Keston?” Rawlo asks.
She hesitates.
“C’mon. You know our secrets,” I urge.
“I know. Who do you think inspired me?” She winks and turns away from the door.
Rawlo and I turn and look at each other before I jump into the big man’s arms and pump my fist in the air. “That’s my girl!”
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From Hustlin’ Divas
Leshelle
Datwon Jackson is standing in the center of Momma Peaches’s cramped house, sweating like a runaway slave. Fear is a scent every Gangster Disciple killer thrives on, and we are all eyeballing Dat-won’s trembling ass while he takes his sweet time stacking money in front of our leader—and my man—Python.
I smirk at the weak-ass nigga. I know what the fuck is about to go down, and I can’t wait for my man to deal with the weakest link in our organization. Had it been me, I would’ve toe-tagged his ass a long time ago. But he’s Python’s blood—who knows how he’s going to handle this situation.
“Somebody shoot this dumb mutherfucka,” Python hisses after taking one glance at the money stacked on the table and knowing that the shit is short.
An arsenal of handguns is lifted and aimed at Datwon.
I smile as I stand behind Python, ready for the shit to go the fuck off—which always happens when you get a bunch of niggas together.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, mutherfuckas. Whoa.” Datwon’s eyes bug out as he jacks up his hands. “Python, how you going to kill me? We’re cousins, man!”
“Nigga, you’re like my fifth cousin twice removed and shit. Ain’t nobody going to be crying foul o
ver that bullshit,” Python sneers. His big, bulky, chocolate frame is littered with tats of pythons, teardrops, names of fallen street soldiers and, more importantly, a big six-pointed star representing the Black Gangster Disciples. Python isn’t just a member of the violent gang; in Memphis he is the head nigga in charge. Everybody in South Memphis knows my nigga don’t fuck around when it comes to his money, drugs, territory, and women—in that order.
The seriousness of the situation hits Datwon like a ton of bricks. The young nigga’s face twists like he smells something nasty while his eyes manage to squeeze out a few tears.
That shit only angers Python even more. “Nigga, is you about to start crying and shit?”
The surrounding brothers snicker and cheese. It takes everything I have not to start instigating shit by yelling, Put a cap in his ass. This was a family situation. Everybody needs to fall back and let Python handle his.
Python snatches off his shades and rakes his black gaze up and down his cousin. Despite his hard-earned muscles, Python has a face only a mother can love. But the brother has presence, power, and mad respect. “If you going to be big, bad, and bold and steal from a nigga, then man up.” He hammers a fist hard against his own chest. “Pump that shit out and meet Lucifer like a fuckin’ soldier.”
“I’m trying,” Datwon cries. “But, Python, I didn’t—”
Before Datwon can finish the sentence, Python snatches his burner from the hip of his jeans and straight shoots his cousin in the foot.
“Aaagh!” Datwon hits the warped and dusty hardwood floor with a quickness.
Everyone jumps back and watches the family drama unfold like it was some shit on cable.
I smack a hand over my mouth to prevent myself from laughing out loud.
Python scratches at his scruffy face with the side of his gun as he walks over to his cousin and squats down.
Datwon grabs his bleeding foot and carries on with the theatrics. “C’mon, Python. You know I got a lil man and shit I gotta take care of. I’m planning on marrying his momma next week at the courthouse. Please don’t kill me. I don’t know why the shit is short. I’ll get whatever is missing back to you. I promise. I promise. Just don’t kill me.”
Heist Page 19