by Ty Marshall
“Please,” she laughed. “Move out my way wit’ your crazy self.”
“No really,” he said. “You can trust me. I got great taste. I chose you right?”
Nova leaned her head back on his shoulder and closed her eyes as she enjoyed his embrace and took in the smell of his Gucci cologne, not to mention the hard on pressing on her ass. Nova’s kitty immediately began to throb. It had been quite some time since she felt the touch of a man or an erection pressed up against her. Saint had awakened the places that had laid dormant in her body and he could feel her body begging to be satisfied.
Saint gripped the side of her neck with his left hand, leaning it to the side as he licked and sucked it softly without leaving a love mark. His warm mouth and soft tongue made her nipples harden instantly. He used his other hand to palm her right breast, feeling the hardness of her nipple took his horniness to new heights. Groping and kissing Nova made his dick stretch a couple of more inches in his jeans. A soft moan escaped Nova’s lips. At that moment everything she was worried about went out the window. If they never made it anywhere that night it would have been alright with her as long as he could keep the feeling he was creating in her body going. Saint loosened the strings holding her robe together allowing it to fall to the floor. The sight of Nova’s naked body caused Saint to grab his pole and bite down on his bottom lip. She was perfection and he wanted to feel her. The look in Nova’s eyes showed him the feeling was mutual. Saint led her over to the bed, laid her on her back and proceeded to undress her. He stepped out of his jeans and underwear exposing his fully erect dick. Nova’s eyes showed her approval of the girth of his love stick. Saint pulled her legs towards him, her sweet spot was clean shaven which impressed him; it made Nova even more inviting to him. Saint rubbed his dick against her clit in circular motions allowing her juices to flow freely. He then placed her legs on his shoulders and entered her. Nova was in pure bliss as Saint thrust in and out of her, alternating speeds. The harder he pumped, the louder her moans grew. Saint knew she was reaching her climax when he felt her legs lock and begin to tremble. Nova gyrated her hips and pumped her pussy in rhythm with him until she exploded on his dick. Nova was extremely turned on, her adrenaline was pumping and her love box was aching for more. She jumped up, pushed Saint onto the bed and straddled him. His thickness caused her to hold her breath upon his entry, but her wetness made it easy to glide up and down on his pole, bringing her to a fast but steady rhythm. Saint gripped her ass cheeks while he enjoyed the tightness of her sweet spot. Nova grinded and clenched her pussy muscles while she creamed all over his dick. Saint turned her over on all fours and entered her from behind and began pounding her into submission. Saint was getting closer to his climax with every moan Nova made. The louder she got, the harder he went, and the wetter she became. It wasn’t long before he let out a pleasurable groan as he spilled his seed on Nova’s backside.
Nova laid on her stomach, exhausted and breathing heavy. Every part of her body was sensitive down to her fingertips. Saint leaned over and kissed the nape of her neck followed by a trail of small ones down her back before standing up and walking into the closet. After a few seconds, he re-emerged holding a dress in his hand.
“I think you’ll kill em in this,” smiling as he laid it on the bed next to her. “Either way you’ll be the baddest woman in the room,” he said continuing to smile before proceeding to the bathroom and turning on the shower.
Nova sat up on her elbows, admiring the man who had just put her body through a workout. She smiled and shook her head. “This muthafucka here.”
***
The club filled quickly, exactly what Saint had hoped for when he linked up with one of the best promoters in DC. Bar 7, a sultry upscale lounge, located in the heart of downtown proved to be the perfect place for the artists showcase and label launch party. The state of the art sound system pumped out the latest hits, while the record company’s logo projected on the walls of the luxurious spot in lights. Waitresses carried bottles of Ciroc, accompanied by sparklers to various tables throughout the venue, while people mixed and mingled enjoying the ambiance. Saint soaked it all in from the VIP area amongst record execs, radio program directors, magazine editors and big name music producers, all in attendance to see what he had to offer to the music game. He moved around the VIP, in and out of conversations with different people, all while keeping one eye glued to the front door, anticipating Nova’s arrival. He kept replaying their sexual encounter from earlier that night and although he was there to handle business, he couldn’t get her off his mind; how soft she felt, her intoxicating scent. The thought of how she taste made him lick his lips hoping her juices would still be there. To a nigga like Saint, women were an accessory that he wore for a night or two before it was time to switch up. Nova was different from the women he was used to. She was independent, didn’t hound or stress him and didn’t need him to take care of her, which ironically made him want to.
Droop bopped over to Saint and stood next to him. “Damn, nigga!” he said handing him a drink. “This some fly shit you put together.”
“Yeah, you know how I do,” Saint bragged. “But yo, why you bring sand to the beach?” Saint inquired looking over his shoulder at the woman sitting at a table filled with food and bottles.
“Nigga that’s my baby moms,” Droop shook his head. “Trust me, I would have never heard the end of it if I ain’t bring that bitch. It’s cool tho, putting her ass to work,” he laughed.
“Whatchu mean?”
“I put the bricks in her trunk. She driving the shit back and don’t even know it.” Droop revealed.
Saint just shook his head and smiled.
His smile grew wider when he saw Nova walk through the door dressed in a white bodycon dress and orange Olcay Gulsen ankle strapped pumps. Her beauty was undeniable and her dress hugged every curve of her frame perfectly, showing off her thick thighs, hips and ass. Nova’s strut was regal, moving as though she knew she had the crown jewel between her legs. Saint watched as heads turned trying to get a look at her as she made her way through the crowd. Every nigga in the room was trying to get her attention, they would love to be the lucky one who went home with her. Saint poked his chest out slightly, feeling like a king knowing people were admiring the woman who came to the party with eyes only for him.
“You see that my nigga?” Droop asked when his eyes landed on the shapely beauty heading for to the bar.
“Yeah, that’s Renee,” Saint beamed with pride.
“That’s shorty?” Droop asked in admiration. “Nice,” he said in his signature slow, laid back tone.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he slid away to go greet her. Saint cut through the crowd hastily, easing up behind Nova at the bar and whispering in her ear. “You know you the baddest thing in here, right?”
Nova blushed enjoying the compliment. “Am I?” she asked rhetorically.
Saint wrapped his arms around her waist. Pulling her into him and enjoying the feeling of her soft, plumped ass rubbing against his dick, he kissed her on the cheek. “Yes,” he answered even though he knew she already knew it.
She felt his dick beginning to swell in his pants and wiggled up against him teasing it. She liked being wanted and Saint made her feel like the sexiest woman on the planet when he was around. “I don’t have on any panties,” she confessed.
“You not playing fair,” he said fighting the urge to leave but knowing he needed to handle his business. “Come on, I got a table back there,” he motioned for her to accompany him to the VIP section.
Droop kept his eyes on Saint and Nova as they talked by the bar. Saint wasn’t the type of nigga to move with a bodyguard but Droop would be the closest thing to it if he had one. Saint kept him close, he respected Droop’s gangster and knew he was respected in the streets. He saw Droop as an ally in a foreign land. But Droop didn’t necessarily see things the same way, he didn’t give a fuck about the two of them being from New York. His only concern was making
as much money as possible. That’s why he played Saint so close, he was hoping to get introduced to the plug from DC. He made it his business to come to the party, thinking the source of the bricks Saint was getting his hands on would show up. Droop had plans on being the man, something he hid well behind his sleepy look. He would kill for that crown and once Saint plugged him in, he was a dead man.
Droop’s concentration was interrupted by the manicured hand of his baby’s mother rubbing across the back of his neck. “What you staring at nigga? Don’t get slapped in here,” she said jokingly.
Tajha, was a slim and curvy redbone, who worked as a dancer at Norma Jean’s. She was bad in her on right with slanted, hazel eyes, full lips, a long black weave with a Chinese bang and an even longer list of ballers she fucked. She was originally from Baltimore and shared a 2 year old son with Droop, something he regretted every day. Their relationship was rocky at best, always on and off again.
“What da fuck you talkin’ bout?” he said slightly annoyed, immediately wishing he hadn’t brought her along.
“I see you watching that bitch, just like every other nigga in here,” Tajha said.
“Shut the fuck up, Taj. You drawin’. That’s my nigga Saint girl,” he informed her.
“Oh really, she done hooked another one, huh?” she sneered.
“Whatchu mean hooked another one?” he inquired interested in any information about the female speaking with Saint.
“You don’t know who that is?” she asked astonished by his ignorance.
“Nah,” he squinted his eyes trying to see if he had missed something.
“That’s Nova. She was King Dayvid’s girl.”
“See there you go Taj, talkin’ shit you don’t know. Shorty name Renee,” Droop stated frowning up his face at how far off base she was.
“No the hell it ain’t! That’s Nova,” she spoke up more boisterous, sure of her accurate recollection.
“How you so sure?” Droop asked seeing her passionate reaction.
“Nigga! Every bitch and they mama wanted King Dayvid, me included,” she added. “And every bitch knew the bitch who had em. No matter how low key he tried to keep her, females talk. He moved her out to Owings Mills or Cockeysville or something like that, but that’s definitely her.”
Droop just nodded his head and stored the tidbit of info his baby’s mother had just supplied him with. The two of them stopped talking as they saw Saint and his lady friend walking towards them.
Saint could feel the envious eyes on him as he walked hand in hand leading Nova through VIP and he loved it. “Renee this my manz, Droop and his wifey Taj,” he said reaching their table.
“Nice to meet you both,” Nova said forcing a smile. She wasn’t a fan of meeting new people, something that had rubbed off on her from years of dealing with Dayvid.
“What’s up,” Droop replied.
“Nice to meet you too,” Taj said. “Girl I love them shoes!”
“Thank you,” Nova said. She definitely didn’t fuck with new bitches. She found them extremely nosey, catty and jealous but she decided to play nice out of respect for Saint and his event.
The evening was going well, Nova had begun to warm up to Droop and Taj and she was actually having a great time. Saint looked so good to her standing on the stage introducing his artist. She found herself staring at him, thinking about what it would be like to be his woman. He was the total opposite of what she was used to and she had to admit to herself that she was really enjoying the change. No one could ever replace Dayvid in her heart. The things she knew about life and love, she had learned either with him or from him. The love she had for him was one of a kind, something that could never be duplicated. But Nova’s heart had begun the healing process and she was ready take a chance with Saint.
Smiling from ear to ear as he walked towards her, she kissed him on his cheek when he reached her. Only to have him grab her and pull her into his chest and kiss her on the lips. They stood nodding their heads along with everybody in attendance at the young female singer on the stage killing her performance.
Nova leaned over to Saint and whispered,” I need to go to the bathroom. Where is it?”
“Come on, I’ll walk with you,” he said.
Nova laughed. “I’ll be ok Saint. I can go by myself. Where is it?”
“It’s over there,” he pointed then watched her until she disappeared into the crowd.
Droop approached, tapping Saint on the shoulder. “Yo we bout to hit this highway, head back to B-More.”
Saint gave him a pound and a half hug.” Thanks for coming through my nigga.”
“No doubt, it’s all G. A lil’ business, a lil’ pleasure that’s always a good thing,” Droop proclaimed. “But check this out my nigga, I got some information you might be interested in.”
“What’s that?”
“Shorty you fucking with, ain’t keeping it a hunnit wit’ you. I don’t know what she hiding but she ain’t who you think she is,” Droop kicked it, his sleepy eyes lower than normal from all the liquor in his system.
“Fuck you talkin’ bout?” Saint said turning to face him. The look on his face said he was looking for nothing less than a straight answer. The new woman in his life was definitely something of a mystery and he wanted to know what Droop knows.
“First off her name ain’t Renee,” he started. “Her name is Nova and she was King Dayvid’s main bitch.”
“Word,” Saint said surprised by the news. But wanting to know more. “You sure about that?”
“100 percent. I got it on a real reliable source,” he assured.
Saint had a puzzled look on his face but he also had no reason to question what Droop was telling him. “Good looking my nigga,” he said dapping up Droop again.
“Yeah, you know you can’t trust these bitches,” he said looking directly in Taj’s direction before signaling to her it was time to go.
Droop’s words played in Saint’s head as he stood alone sipping a drink in his hand. “You definitely can’t trust these bitches,” he mumbled to himself. “I wonder what else she hiding?” he pondered. All the questions he had immediately began to make sense. How she had been able to afford staying in that hotel for so long, her fly condo, the shopping sprees. Dayvid must’ve left her straight, he thought to himself. This bitch probably sitting on a couple million or something. This nigga was hitting banks, jewelry stores, all type of shit. I know he had a stash. He rubbed his hands together, all his vices- avarice and perfidy bubbling to the surface. The Porters had taken from him and now he was going to take pleasure in returning the favor. It was obvious that Nova didn’t know who he was or his history with the Porters. She also was feeling him, something else he plan on using to in his advantage. All I gotta do is keep fucking this bitch good and she gonna lead a nigga right to that paper, he thought to himself. He hated the Porters with a passion. Now he was fucking King Dayvid’s girl and was about to get his hands on all his paper. As he looked up, seeing Nova strutting back across the room, he no longer saw the beautiful woman he was trying to court and impress. All he could think about looking in her face was revenge and like the old saying went; it was a dish best served cold.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat up my flesh, the stumbled and fell.”
(Psalm 27:2)
U.S. Marshal Palmeri twisted the top off the bottle of Excedrin and turned it up to his mouth then downed the warm mug of coffee on his desk. He watched as his partner stood in a trance, mumbling incoherently in front of a board with photos on it. He had grown tired of Torrence’s obsession with the case, a case which he felt had basically closed itself. Fallon and Autumn were now both in Mexico, out of their jurisdiction and Dayvid and Rain were dead. But Torrence refused to let it go.
“You don’t find it funny that this woman here,” she said pointing at a picture of a beautiful brown skinned woman carrying shopping bags. “Renee Preston, seemed to appear out of n
owhere. Looking at the records, it’s like she didn’t even exist until a few years ago. And now she pops up spending a shit load of marked money from a heist, that is common knowledge the Porters did,” Torrence said turning to face her partner.
“I just don’t think it’s worth pursuing. Half the Porters are dead and the other half are out of the country. I don’t think this woman is of any importance,” Palmeri explained.
“Do you know the Porters’ lawyer was found dead in his apartment, only hours after it was reported Dayvid was dead?”
“And?” Palmeri asked. “Morganstein was as crooked as they came. He was in bed with all type of shady characters including the Russian mob, no telling who killed him.”
“Maybe she killed him as a way to clean up some of the Porters loose ends,” Torrence suggested.
“Really?” Palmeri shook his head at her far-fetched assumption.
“You never know. Why is she hiding out in a hotel?”
“And what about that guy, where does he fit into all this?” Palmeri asked pointing at a picture of Saint.
“That’s Charles St. Clair, or Saint. He is a mid-level drug dealer who is slowly on the rise out in Baltimore. His name came up in a case in New York from a few years ago. He worked for a major player in the drug game. That is until he was robbed for a large shipment out in Baltimore by guess who?” she asked.
“The Porters.”
“Yes,” she yelled. “Now when he got back to New York, this major player was not happy and attempted to kill Saint but luckily he survived.”
“So he has an axe to grind with the Porters,” Palmeri said as the wheels in his mind began turning. “I wonder if we let him know that this woman is somehow connected to the Porters would he be willing to assist us in connecting the dots.”
“Now you’re thinking,” she said.
***
Droop unlocked the door to Taj’s apartment and stepped inside. His hands were full with bags from his latest trip to the mall. He had purchased a bunch of clothes and sneakers for his son and wanted to surprise him with it. In a good mood, he had even copped something for her. He called her name a few times but after receiving no answer, he put the bags down and headed to the kitchen. Clicking on the light, he was startled by the presence of an unexpected visitor sitting at the kitchen table with his sleeping son on his lap and Taj tied up in the chair next to him with tape over her mouth.