Table of Contents
___________________
Author's Note
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
About JaQuavis Coleman
Also Available from Infamous Books
Copyright & Credits
About Akashic Books
Author's Note
Hello All,
Writing this story was very important to me. I wanted to give a lesson on karma and life ills while holding your attention. I intentionally drop subtle gems for the people like me who came from where I came. There are always two layers to my books; not everyone will get the second layer but the ones who do . . . they feel me. You see, I talk to the readers but I whisper to the streets. The streets being people who grew up in the struggle and love to read books because it closely resembles their current or past lifestyles. My books are conversational or at least that’s what my intentions are.
If you ever prayed to God, asking Him to show you the way, but in the same breath asking for forgiveness for the things you may have to do until you see the light . . . this one is for you. I understand. I am you . . . you are me. I am the streets. Love you all. *Raises cigar*
—JaQuavis Coleman
Prologue
Draya arched her back in pure pleasure as she dug her nails deep into the man’s chocolate muscular back. He slowly ground his hips in circular motions as he dove deep inside of her leaking love box. His swollen testicles gently slapped against her other entry with each thrust. Splashing noises echoed throughout the room, accompanied by Draya’s light moans and cries. Their sweaty bodies bounced off each other as the man began to whisper in her ear. The hot summer night made the air moist and their bodies seemed to glow as the moon’s light crept through the blinds and reflected off of them.
“You’re always going to be mine. I missed you, baby girl,” he said as he dug even deeper, rubbing her hair while he sexed her.
Draya hadn’t felt him in over a year and she almost forgot how good of a stroke he had. She began to pant heavily and her legs started to shake. First it was small quivers, then it grew to vigorous and sporadic jerking spasms. She felt a gigantic orgasm approaching and her body began to tense up. The man, with precision, sped up his stroke and quickly put his hands under her cheeks and spread them wider. Draya was in complete heaven as she felt his warm hands gently squeezing her plump buttocks. She tried to tell him how good it was, but she couldn’t talk because she was on the brink of exploding all over him. She felt his thickness fill her up with each thrust and it seemed as if his pole was on fire . . . it was so hot. The feeling was driving Draya crazy; a good crazy though. He stroked the long way, pulling his whole shaft out of her, leaving only the very tip of it in before he plunged it all the way back in. He was putting on a masterful performance that night.
“Oooh,” she crooned as she squeezed him tighter, feeling her climax beginning. The man, with perfect timing, pulled out and dipped down, placing his mouth on her love box and catching everything she squirted out. Draya’s legs quivered as she released her juices onto his face and into his mouth. She shook uncontrollably when she gripped the back of his head, almost pile-driving his face into herself. Her body jerked violently as he continued to give her clitoris an oral massage. The man then rose up and slid back into her. It didn’t take long for him to release a load into her. Draya didn’t care if he came inside of her; he felt too good. She remembered at that moment that she once loved him, but she had let greed get in the way of that.
“I missed you. I missed you so much,” the man whispered in her ear, resting on top of her, breathing heavily as his sweat dripped onto her body. His deep baritone sent chills down Draya’s spine and she wondered why she had ever stopped messing with him in the first place.
“Oh . . . oh my God. That was so good,” Draya professed as he placed her hand on her love box and added pressure. It was so tender and sore . . . a pleasant sore. It hurt so badly, but then again, it felt so good. The man kissed her on the forehead softly and got up from the king-size bed. He headed to the hotel suite’s bathroom while Draya’s eyes admired his physique. His chiseled back and muscular frame instantly made her want him again. The man disappeared into the bathroom and Draya flipped over onto her stomach and ran her fingers through her sweated-out hair. She took a deep breath and smiled.
“You were amazing, Daddy. I am so glad I ran into you.” She looked around the luxury suite and noticed a slightly opened duffel bag sitting on the floor. She could just glimpse some plastic-wrapped cocaine bricks stacked neatly inside of it and she chuckled to herself.
“I see not a lot has changed since the last time I saw you. You still getting it in, huh?” she said as she sat up and began tying her hair into a ponytail.
“You know it, Ma. Don’t shit stop,” he called back as he turned on the faucet.
Draya smiled and thought back on how she had robbed him blind a year earlier and he never knew a thing. She had set him up so smoothly and disappeared from town like a ghost. He had no idea that his biggest loss came from a chick who he had love for. She kept chuckling to herself while shaking her head with regret.
That’s the way the game goes sometimes. I had to get mine, she thought, trying to make herself feel better about what she’d done. If a nigga get caught slipping, it’s his own fault.
She flipped onto her stomach and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. As she began to scroll through her contacts, she heard the water turn off and then the footsteps of the man approaching her. She wiggled her plump butt cheeks, knowing that he was watching, and smiled and giggled while still focusing on her phone.
She felt his warm hands begin to rub on her back and then heard his deep voice: “It’s been a long time, baby.” He took her phone from her and set it aside, then gently pulled her hands behind her back. His demand for her attention turned Draya on and made her smile even wider. She could feel his growing warm shaft resting on her leg. That sensation alone made her clitoris begin to jump in anticipation of round two. She started moving her body like a snake, in a circular motion, causing friction between the bed and her clitoris as she closed her eyes in total bliss. With her arms still behind her back, it made everything more exotic and she was loving every second of it.
“Please put it in again, Daddy,” she begged, and frowned up in pleasure.
The man remained silent and prepared to give her the business. The cold handcuffs startled Draya as they were slapped across her wrists. Almost instantly, a bandanna was slipped between her lips and he tied it behind her head so tightly that it hurt.
“I’ve been waiting to catch you for over a year, you grimy bitch,” he said as Draya began to squirm like a wet fish. It all happened so fast that she hadn’t seen it coming. Something crashed down on the back of her skull, causing her whole world to shake up. Her vision went blurry and the most excruciating headache overcame her. The lamp that he had just bashed against her head shattered into pieces. She tried to scream, but only muffled whispers entered the airwaves as the man stood over her with a blank face. He began to urinate over her body as she laid there in a daze and whimpered in agony.
“You thought I wouldn’t find you? Huh? It wasn’t an accident that I ran into you tonight at that bar. I have been looking for you for over a year. Now it’s time to repay that debt. You took $400,000 from me. I want that back in blood . . . plus interest.” The man walked to the corner and grabbed the iron that he had turned on when they entered the room an hour before.
So many thoughts rac
ed through Draya’s mind as she struggled to release herself from the tight handcuffs. Why? Why did I do this to myself? She heard steam gushing from the iron.
He pushed the button repeatedly, antagonizing her with the sounds of terror. He approached her and prepared to torture her for what she had done. He was about to cash in on his long-awaited revenge.
Chapter One
Four years earlier
Draya hurried as she pulled the clothes out of the dryer. She briefly stopped to wipe the sweat from her brow. It was fifteen minutes after her shift was over and she had to hurry and finish up the laundry before the last bus ran for the night. She glanced at the clock on the wall and took a deep sigh. I’m going to miss my damn bus, she thought as she turned the knob on the dryer. She was instructed by Mrs. Harris to have all the clothes washed before her shift. Draya was in the laundry room of the mansion that sat in the hills of Novi, Michigan. She’d had the job for the last three months as a part-time housemaid. She hated being a maid, but it served as motivation for her, working in such a lavish home. It was the house she eventually wanted one day. It was by far the most glamorous house she had ever been inside of. It was something that she could never afford or even fathom staying in. There were marble floors everywhere and high-priced Andy Warhol paintings on the walls. Draya felt as if she was being teased the three days of the week she worked for the Harrises. Yet she liked the job because she got paid under the table. She had answered a newspaper advertisement to get the job and agreed to get paid cash, no paperwork involved. This was right up Draya’s alley. She needed all of the money she could get and paying Uncle Sam threw a wrench in her program.
As she hurried to put away the towels that she had previously folded, she began doing a mental countdown. She had ten minutes to finish up and get out the door to walk to her bus stop just outside the suburban subdivision. As she hustled to the hallway closet, she heard the sounds of jazz playing loudly and grew nervous. She instantly knew that Mr. Harris was in the house, and that was a rare occasion. It seemed as if Mrs. Harris scheduled Draya to come in only when he wasn’t there. Draya only recalled seeing him twice, and as she was putting the towels in the closet she glanced over to notice him standing there with his six-foot frame and dark-as-cocoa skin. He had on slacks and a dress shirt. His tie was loose around his neck and his cuff links were absent from his shirt. His broad shoulders and muscular build made him intimidating. His salt-and-pepper goatee displayed his late forties, but he wore his age well. Draya looked deeper and her eyes grew as big as golf balls when she saw him place stacks of money into a hidden compartment behind a painting. The security was in the fact that it was so inconspicuous. She realized that he hadn’t seen her so she quickly returned down the hall to the laundry room. Her heart was beating fast as she began wondering about Mr. Harris, who she’d been told was a real estate investor.
He must not trust banks, she thought as she began to pull off her apron. At that moment, Mrs. Harris walked past the hall and did a double take. The six-foot-tall blond, blue-eyed fox stopped in her tracks. Mrs. Harris looked like a model straight out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog. Draya was always slightly bothered by their interracial marriage. She felt like there was a shortage of successful black men and Mr. Harris had lowered her own odds by catching one.
“Oh, hey there. I thought you left already,” the woman said as she checked her watch.
“I’m heading out now, Mrs. Harris,” Draya answered, slipping on her jacket and giving her boss a nervous smile.
“Okay, well, hurry along. Mr. Harris and I are expecting a dinner guest,” Mrs. Harris said as she put on a diamond earring. She was not a day older than twenty-six but had lucked out and gotten an older businessman to marry and spoil her. Lucky her, Draya thought to herself, putting on a fake smile and nodding her head. Mrs. Harris walked away briskly and announced, “Honey, I need you to run to the store and get wine for our guest,” before fading into the rear of the home. “Oh, and Draya?” Mrs. Harris called out.
“Yes?” Draya responded.
“We’re going out of town next Tuesday, so you can take the week off. I just need you here Monday morning to dust and give the house a good clean before we take off.”
“Okay, so my only day of work for the week will be Monday?” Draya asked. Lord knows she needed those hours.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Draya quickly gathered her purse and headed out. When she opened the front door, the winter’s hawk hit her right in the face and the cold air sent a chill up her spine, so she zipped up her jacket. Michigan’s winters were brutal and Draya was reminded of it every time she had to go outside these days. She pulled her knit hat from her pocket and slipped it over her head. Draya moved toward the bus stop, walking briskly with her head down to guard her face from the cold. She needed to get home to have a quick rest before going to her second job, a late-night shift at a local diner. Draya was twenty-five years old and had a good head on her shoulders. She had no kids, no man, and no drama. She took care of her seventeen-year-old knucklehead brother, filling the shoes of her mother who had died in a car accident seven years back. They had different fathers, who had both been missing in action their entire lives. So she and her brother June only had each other, which made their bond even stronger. They shared different last names, but their souls were closer than close. The typical story of young minorities in the economically declining city of Detroit.
Her brother wasn’t an angel, but he was a good kid. So good that Draya knew he was probably their only ticket out of the ghetto.
As Draya made her way down the road, she heard a car approaching so she hugged the curb to get out of the way. She glanced back and noticed that the car had slowed. As it approached, the tinted driver’s-side window came down and she saw the face of the man who employed her, Mr. Harris.
“It’s freezing out here. How far do you have to go?” the man asked as he cringed from the cold. Draya had never heard him speak before. He had a deep baritone that was almost melodic.
“Oh, it’s okay, Mr. Harris. My bus stop is just down the road,” Draya replied, peering toward the end of the street.
“Where do you live?” Mr. Harris asked.
Draya paused, not wanting to reveal the area she lived in, which was smack-dab in the middle of the ghetto. “Eight Mile Road,” she finally confessed, dropping her head in embarrassment.
“Hop in,” he instructed, and hit the unlock button.
Draya was about to decline. Then she remembered the forty-five-minute bus ride, just to get a transfer. She managed a smile and walked over to the passenger side. As soon as she sat down, the warmth began to soothe her. His heated leather seats were like heaven and the smooth sounds of the Isley Brothers pumped through the speakers. The all-black Jaguar was luxurious and it felt like a spaceship to Draya. As she sunk into the seat, Mr. Harris pulled away.
“I really appreciate the ride,” Draya said. She glanced over at the man and noticed his strong jawline and smooth black skin. He didn’t answer her, just gave a quick grin and nodded his head. The ride was so comfortable and relaxing that before Draya knew it, they were at her exit. She gave him directions and soon he pulled up in front of her project building.
“Thanks,” Draya said as she gathered her purse and exited the car. Once again Mr. Harris said nothing, he just nodded his head and smiled. Clearly he was a very quiet and modest man with a heart of pure gold. Draya knew that he was in unfamiliar territory. To a wealthy businessman, her projects must have seemed like a war zone and she understood that. So she hurried out of the car and watched as he pulled off.
Draya headed toward her building and noticed a young man standing by the door. A hoodie was pulled over his head and a scarf covered half his face, but Draya recognized his slim build and hazel eyes. Her brother June stood leaning against the door with his hands in his bubble down coat.
“Hey, sis. I see you un’ caught a baller, huh?” he said as he gestured at the Jaguar that was tur
ning off of the block.
“Boy, that is not . . .” Draya waved her hand in dismissal. “Why am I even explaining it to you?” She shook her head and moved toward him. June gave her his famous smile, which got her every time, flashing the small gap in his pearly white teeth. His baby face had no facial hair and in her eyes he was still the little brat running around the house looking up to her. June pecked her on the check, and just like always Draya smiled. He had his big sister under his thumb.
As she walked past, a small-framed woman wearing only a sweatshirt and jeans approached June. She placed some money in his hand and he slipped a rock of crack cocaine into hers. The transaction was swift and smooth, only lasting a couple of seconds. June scanned the block as the woman walked off.
Draya shook her head and went inside. She hated what her brother did, but she fully understood. He was a smart kid, and he had to survive. Draya’s income could only support the rent and a couple household bills. She admired the fact that her seventeen-year-old brother pitched in and had the ambition to go out and get it.
Draya entered their small two-bedroom apartment and peeled off her jacket. She glanced at the clock and knew that she only had a brief period to relax before heading to her graveyard shift at the diner. She looked around the place and the thought of the big white house she had just left made this apartment seem that much more depressing.
She sat down at the kitchen table and noticed the stack of mail—mainly past-due bills with red lettering that only caused more stress. It didn’t matter how much she made with her two jobs, it was never enough. As she flipped through them, she stopped and smiled when she saw the white envelope with her brother’s name on it. It was a letter from the University of Michigan. It was the letter that she had been waiting on. She immediately ripped it open and read the first three lines, then smiled even wider. She screamed for her brother and ran toward the window that sat right above the spot where June was always standing.
The White House Page 1