Saint And Sinners: The King Angel Child of New York

by Tiana Laveen

“Yeah, on top of your silver Lamborghini…the one you almost act like is even more important than me.” She smirked and pointed to herself.

  “My limited edition? You want me to put you on the hood of my baby, and fuck you?” he repeated, getting off on the whole damn thing. But he’d play the game…oh yes, he’d play to win.

  “Yup.” She crossed her arms, sass in her attitude as she popped one hip out in a daring gesture.

  “I don’t know who you think you’re fuckin’ wit!” He grabbed the woman by the arm and tossed her over his damn shoulder, causing a ruckus and rumble of laughter to emit from her perfect lips.

  She kicked her legs back and forth, beating him about the back as he made his way to the sweet, silver lady on wheels, and placed Xenia onto the hood of his girl, Platinum Pearl…yes, she had a name. He looked down at her with an intense stare as he pushed her legs apart and lay between them. The woman squirmed about, balking about the coldness of the metal against her nude body.

  “…Shoulda thought about that before you dared me to give it to you nice ’nd good. He unzipped his pants, his fingers flying as he released the beast that roared for her pleasure.

  “Uhhh!” Without preamble, he shoved himself inside of her, pinned her down, made her take it.

  “Ohhhh God!” He bounced her body, making her slide up and down the damn thing as he thrust in and out. Her eyes rolled in ecstasy. The garage remained dimly lit; only one bulb in the corner gave a fraction of reflection. The odor of motor oil served more as an aphrodisiac than a turn-off…and he could see that she, too, felt the same, as her brows bunched and her pussy quaked around his thrusting cock.

  “Uhhhh! Gimme that pussy, come on, now! Uhhh!” He thrust harder. “Work this dick like a gear shift, baby. You wanted to get in the driver’s seat, so drive, damn it, drive! Uhhhh!”

  “Ahhhh…” She dug her fucking nails into his ass cheeks as she gyrated against his form, twisting and turning, making him sink even further inside of her.

  Saint was losing control again; so much so, he somehow managed to turn the damn car on from the animalistic way they were taking one another. Pearl’s engine purred as his energy poured into Xenia, and made a mess of the vehicle’s circuitry. “Oh shit!” she cried out while looking into his vibrant eyes that glowed just a bit brighter than before. The woman rotated her hips harder and gripped him around his neck, holding on, causing him to strain and curse.

  “Fuck me, harder, Saint! Harder!”

  He gripped her hips with all of his might, sinking his fingers into her fleshy, curved thighs.

  “Uhhh! Hard enough for you?! Uhhhh!”

  “Shit! Yes! Like that!”

  “Uhhh! Uhhhh!” She slid up and down the car hood, banging against it as he took her there. “Uhhhh! Hard like that, baby?! Uhhh! You want all this dick, huh?! You missed it? I didn’t give you enough this morning, huh? Uhhh! Want me to drive all this cock inside of you! Make my nuts slap your pussy lips silly, huh?! Your wish is my command! Uhhh!” She bounced like a ping-pong ball and soon felt her nails digging into his wrists as she shook against him, cream running down from between her legs, coating her quivering thighs—and her eyes vacant, distant, as she drifted far away.

  He grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed it, anchoring himself as he went full steam ahead, pressing his chest onto hers and slicking his tongue inside of her mouth. He held her steady as they stared into each other’s eyes. While the woman gently gripped his ass with both hands, he pushed within her to the max, his dick throbbing deep inside of her, inclined to detonate.

  “Baby…” he whispered in her ear as he enfolded his arms around her waist. “Surprise sex is some of the best sex. What a beautiful afternoon gift. You never stop amazing me.” He beamed, causing her to do the same as she kissed him lovingly and gingerly moved strands of his disheveled hair out of his face. He bent a bit lower and kissed her collarbone, then let himself go.

  “Ohhhh…uhhhhh…” He moaned, pumping his hips ever so slowly, allowing his cock to thrust and push with its own vibration, firing liquid warmth inside of her. “Ohhhhhh baby!” His body jolted forcefully as he continued to cum, filling her up, holding her close to him, ever so tightly. They laid there quietly for a good while, wrapped around one another like ropes.

  “You want to help me fix Dakarai’s bike?” He already knew the damn answer. Xenia would be asleep soon but it couldn’t hurt to try.

  “That’s his Daddy’s job,” she teased, giggling so.

  “Well then, get in the kitchen and make a sandwich since you wanna go down that road!”

  She cackled, playfully hit him across the back. Sluggish, he lifted himself from her naked body, reached between them and gently removed his cock from her sweet pussy. Xenia sat up, too, slid off the car and redressed. He watched her, pretending to be engrossed in finding the screwdriver once again.

  “I love watching you get dressed, but I love you taking off your clothes more,” he flirted, not missing her smile as she slung her purse back over her shoulder. “Ahhh, here it is!” He grasped the Phillips-head and proudly waved it in the air as if it were some prize. “After I fix this bike, I’ll meet you in the red room, baby. I’m in the mood for a little light weight bondage.” He winked at her and his dick thickened all over again, happy with the prospect.

  Yawning, she feigned to not be interested as she approached the garage door, surrounding the knob with her fingers.

  “Oh, I might be busy. I may have some things to do.”

  “I agree. You got some shit to do all right; that’ll be me!” He joked, causing her to laugh.

  “All right, you got it. I’ll be waiting.” She blew him a kiss as she exited.

  He looked at the closed door for a while and tapped the tool against his open palm.

  Ain’t nothing in this world sweeter than my woman… There’s nothing more lovely than her laughter and her smiling face. Nothing sexier than her orgasm… and there’s nothing more beautiful than the way she makes me feel…

  *

  Chapter Forty

  Ibiza Kids became the terrific shoe-shopping haunt of the family. The shoe store that catered to tiny tots turned out to be an all time favorite for Isis and Dakarai. Hassani remained rather indifferent; he’d have much preferred a fresh pair of new Nikes. Saint stood outside the place, looking down at his watch. He shivered a little when the cold dropped what felt like an additional ten degrees. Xenia was taking her sweet, buttercup time, sashaying here and there, but he promised to be on his best behavior, and even hold her purse on occasion. As he stood there, he noticed the snowflakes were particularly fluffy and large, almost like clusters of artificial sweetener. He’d never really studied them before. He took them for granted, for in his lifetime, his mission was to never stand out in the snow and be taken under. No, East Coast winters were painfully miserable at times. He’d rush here, there and everywhere, just to escape it all—but right then, at that moment, he rather enjoyed it.

  They say no two snowflakes are exactly alike…

  He stuck out his tongue, unable to resist the urge. A flash memory of Xenia doing something similar many years earlier came to his mind. That same evening, a little over a decade past, had started as wonderfully magical but ended in a nightmare when he was shot, his life thrust on the line. Earlier that fateful day, he’d made love to her against an alley wall. It was fucking freezing, but their body heat, and the way she looked into his eyes, had made it all worthwhile.

  A few moments later, he was jerked out of his happy mood and mixed-emotion memories. He got a whiff of something unsettling, off-putting. Turning to his right, and then his left by the ‘Don’t Walk’ blinking orange sign stood two people—Demon Children. Much to his surprise, they simply gave a wave and briefly bowed their head in acknowledgement. Saint smirked as they crossed the street and went on their way.

  Players gone play…

  Just then, the door of the storefront opened, and out bustled his family, meeting him on the sidewalk.
Xenia’s arms were now full with two oversized bags. Saint immediately grabbed them, but not before placing a kiss smack dab in the middle of her forehead.

  “Why thank you, baby!” She giggled. “Isis wants to go to the bakery. They have those lemon cupcakes she likes.”

  “Are you sure they aren’t strawberry cookies from the cute, little Marco?!” he hissed, full of immature venom.

  “You can never just let stuff go!” Xenia laughed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder.

  “I can never let you go…so if that is what you mean, you’d be correct.” He grabbed her gloved hand, feeling the leather around her fingers, and took Isis by hers—tiny hands covered in soft, sage mittens, while the boys walked on either side of them.

  It was a good day. It was a damn good day…

  *

  “How about just a little bit?” he whispered into her ear.

  Xenia tensed, then begrudgingly pushed him back from her seat between his legs on the chair by the bay window.

  “The kids are up. It’s the middle of the day,” she protested, a sexy half smile on her face.

  He ran his fingers up and down the side of her neck, then tilted her chin upward to kiss the tip of her nose.

  “Just give me ten minutes…twelve max.” He grinned as she looked up into his eyes, smirked and turned away, flipping another page in her magazine.

  “You need to stop. We’ve been wearing each other out lately. I promise it’ll be on again tonight… Let’s just take a little breather,” she replied with a smile, her voice husky. She placed her feet, clad in black slippers, on the table and casually crossed her ankles. Saint got a whiff of the perfume sample she’d passed by, a card jammed between the pages.

  “Mmmm, that smelled good. What was that?”

  She flipped in reverse and looked in the bottom right hand corner of the sheet.

  “Says it’s Jasmine Noir by Bvlgari.” She brought the glossy, thick magazine closer to her a face and took a hearty inhale.

  “You should get it. I bet it would smell nice on you,” he encouraged.

  “Maybe I will.” She yawned and laid her head back on his chest, turned to the side, then set her sights back to an article about the latest fashion trends. Saint stared down at her, emotion suddenly gripping him.

  I’m so grateful she’s alright…that we’re alright.

  He glanced at the tree painting, partially hidden behind a nearby couch and smiled at it. Xenia was still debating whether she’d let him hang it up. She did have to admit though, the damn thing was stunning. He ran his finger casually up the side of his nose to cater to an itch, then slowly closed his eyes, deciding upon a nap. As he got comfortable and the faint sounds of the children playing began to lull him to sleep, just as he was drifting into the soft and cushy world of a divine dream state, the doorbell rang.

  “Oh damn.” He yawned, bringing his fist to his lips. Xenia grunted and stood, stretched on her tippy toes and looked back down at him. “Are you going to get it?” He grinned, his eyes hooded lazily.

  “Well, I guess I am, Mr. Sleepy.” She playfully stuck her tongue out at him and sauntered over to the front door. He could no longer see her as she rounded the corner but he heard her pause at the keyhole.

  “Everything alright, baby? Who is it?”

  “It’s a large group of people.” she said, almost as if she had lost her voice somewhere between shock and bewilderment. “One of them in the front is holding a red wrapped box. It looks like a gift of some sort.”

  Saint got to his feet, standing in white socks, pulled at his baggy black jogging pants and scratched the side of his arm before walking to her. Looking through the keyhole, he grinned.

  “You don’t recognize some of ’em, baby? They were at Jagger’s party.” He removed the deadbolt and opened the door, coming face to face with at least fifteen people standing on his front steps, all dressed in leather and furs as snowflakes blanketed their hats, scarves and eyelashes. Close to the front stood Cruz, grasping the box in question.

  “Awww man, what’s up!” Saint slapped his hand, giving him a customary handshake. “It’s cold! You all want to come inside?” Saint flipped his thumb behind him, towards the inside of the place. A nice fire was roaring; he was certain they’d like to get next to it. They all turned and considered one another, then nodded in agreement, taking the invitation. In a matter of seconds, Saint’s foyer was filled with Angel Children and Xenia had convened to the kitchen to put on a couple pots of coffee and tea.

  “So, how are you doing Cruz?” Saint asked as everyone remained strangely quiet.

  “I’m hanging in there.” The man gave a slight smile, his eyes vibrant. He clutched a bit tighter to the satiny red box in his grip.

  “That’s good.” Saint nodded. “Well.” He smiled and clasped his hands together. “I’m surprised to see you all here. Haven’t seen you since the funeral.”

  Just then, Little Bit, Armondo Martinez’s girlfriend, stepped forward. The Puerto Rican woman donned a thick white bomber coat with white trimmed fur that cradled the bottom of her face, almost cloaking her lips. Standing in her tight, dark blue jeans and thigh high white fur boots, she stared at Saint, her eyes glossing over a smidge.

  “Saint,” she began. “Thank you for your kind words at Armondo’s home-coming. I know you didn’t know him like we did, but everything you said was true. I miss him so much!” A tear rolled down her cheek. Saint grabbed her, brought her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “I know you do, I’m so sorry for your loss, for all of you. He was a good man, a great leader. He didn’t die in vain.” He looked down at her stomach. She was only a few months pregnant, had just found out she was carrying his child the day after his death. “And he will see his seed grow… He is watching you and will see his son born, he is the forever protector.” She nodded and stepped back, then cleared her throat as if to make a speech.

  “The rest of our crew is working their day jobs and couldn’t get time off. Some of us work weekends. The ones of us you see here right now took a little time off to pay you a visit in person. Anyway, we got something for you…a thank you, for just…” She shrugged. “For being you. There is a change in the city now. There is a new respect. We all fought that night, we all risked our lives, but you put yourself against the worst of the worst and survived, and that’s why Armondo was right.” She looked at Cruz and motioned to him. “Hand it to him, please.”

  With slightly shaking hands, Cruz handed the box to Saint, who accepted it, while surveying each and every person before him. Xenia returned with a large silver tray filled with cups of hot, fragrant beverages. Saint moved to the side to give her access to the crowd as they appreciatively took what was to their liking, cradled their respective drinks in their hands, and remained fairly quiet, minus the quiet ‘thank yous’ to his wife.

  “Please.” Little Bit nodded in his direction. “Open it.” She took a sip of her tea and waited.

  Xenia walked back into the kitchen then quickly returned at his side, this time, with Isis in her arms.

  Saint glanced at everyone out the corner of his eye and grinned. He then turned the box to and fro, sighed and began to unwrap it. He uncloaked a plain, brown box. Staring at it for a short spell, he then dug under the flaps with his fingertips and revealed a large, black velvet pouch with silver rope at the neck.

  “That’s pretty,” Xenia whispered as she peered over at his present.

  Saint nodded, then pulled it open to find an unvarnished wooden box containing a rare, vintage bottle of Jenssen Arcana along with a smaller bottle of Courvoisier L’Espirit Decanter.

  “Oh my God…” Saint gasped as he gingerly removed it from its confines. He shook his head then glanced back at all of them before returning his sights to the bottle. “This is remarkable. What a thoughtful gift! Thank you so much!”

  He knew most of them didn’t have much money. They were struggling just like the majority of mankind. He figured they’d all pitched in, and for t
hat, he was truly humbled.

  “That’s not all.” Cruz pointed to the box, forcing Saint to take notice of something lightweight but large that had been pushed towards the back. He removed it and broke out laughing.

  “You all have got to be kidding me?!”

  Everyone laughed.

  In his hands was a golden crown that read, ‘The King of New York.’ Isis’ eyes grew big as she lunged for it, trying with all of her might to reach the shiny thing. Saint took her from Xenia’s arms, kissed her cheek and plopped the over-sized crown atop her head. It slid to the side, pulling one of her baby blue hair bows along with it.

  “You look smashing!” he teased in a British accent, giving the little girl one more kiss. “Thank you all so much! I really appreciate it. Hey, uh…” He looked back towards the kitchen. “If I would have known you were coming, I’d have made sure to prepare an early dinner. Anyway, you all are more than welcome to stay, talk for a while,” Saint offered sincerely. He longed to be around their magic, their good vibes.

  “Nah, we gotta go.” Little Bit frowned. “We all got stuff to do and don’t wish to impose, but we just wanted to give these to you. They don’t come close to what you did for us, but we just wanted to show our gratitude.” And then, like that, the young lady pulled in close and gave him a side hug, while simultaneously winking at Isis and grabbing the little girl’s hand to play with her tiny fingers. “Thank you so much!” she whispered in Saint’s ear before all of them turned and headed back towards the door.

  “Thank you, Little Bit, and all of you!”

  People nodded and began to talk amongst themselves as they filed out the door. Right after Saint closed it, another knock came.

  “Oh, one of them must be back.” Without looking, he opened the damn thing and in rushed Angel, covered in snow and his nose reddened like Rudolph’s. He hopped from one foot to the other, looking about the place as if waiting for the damn train.

  “What are you doing here?” Saint asked, his irritation no doubt more than evident.