“You’re mos’ def’ wrong on that, Deja,” Baby-Sister said. “His mind’s been like that all along. The scar on his ass is a reminder of what a wonderful man he is. Isn’t that right, Baby?”
“Well, I won’t have no broke-ass man, and don’t want no ass-shot man either. So, looks like you’re stuck with him. Birthday song singing, ass scar and all,” Deja said.
“You want to see it?” G-Baby asked, starting to stand up.
Baby-Sister grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “Sit down, Baby, these ladies don’t need to see your beautiful butt. That’s my territory.”
“I’m not saying it,” Trevon said.
“What’s that Lawyer Man?” Michelle asked.
“I was thinking about contract law. It sounds to me like Baby-Sister got the ass-end of a bad deal,” Trevon said.
Eyes rolled, and groans came from around the table.
“You, best go back to being a pretty face.” Michelle patted Trevon’s cheek.
“Hey, you love this pretty face,” he said.
“We all do,” Deja said. “It’s your bad jokes that’re killing us.”
Scott followed two young men out of the office. The three stopped at the front door and shook hands. “Goodbye, Mr. Scott. Thank you.”
“I hope everything works out back home.” Scott waved and came back into the diner. He went behind the counter, picked up some drinks, and returned to the table.
“Can you join us for a bit?” Michelle asked.
Scott pulled up a chair and handed an A&W to Michelle, and a Pepsi to PJ.
“Hey, Scott, you’re a regular guy, right?” Deja asked.
“I like to think so,” he replied.
“We found out about a bunch of pimps who’ve been keeping women as slaves. What does a guy like you think about having a sex slave?” Deja asked.
“Sex slave? No thanks. At fourteen when your sex life is imagination and masturbation that might sound okay. After that, nope. No thanks,” he said looking around the table. “I like my sex happy, willing, and flavored with a little love. Like all of us regular guys.” Scott scooted his chair back. “Sorry to speak and run, but I’ve got a couple more things I need to take care of.” He went back to his office.
“Nikky, was he looking at you when he said that?” Deja asked.
“Not me. He’d be looking at you or maybe Jelena, if anyone at this table,” Nikky said.
“What about me? I’m the one who thinks he’s cute,” PJ asked.
“Sorry, PJ. No Scott for you. You’re going to Mayberry. We can’t have you falling for no local man,” Michelle said.
“Just because I’m going to Mayberry, doesn’t mean my mayberry can’t have a little fun before I go,” PJ said.
“Speaking of sex, I’m taking G home. See if he can find a little interest in my mayberry. Good seeing everyone,” Baby-Sister said.
“Guess I’m going to Mayberry. See y’all around,” G-Baby said.
“Put on your heels. ladies, it’s getting deep around here,” Nikky said.
“That’s only because you’ve been laid up, not getting laid,” Deja said.
“You know, Deja, I’d smile and wink, but it hurts too much. As it turns out, my mayberry is about the only thing that doesn’t hurt,” Nikky said.
“Groan, this is worse than a punning contest,” Deja said.
“What is punning contest?” Jelena asked.
“Bad jokes. It’s a bunch of people trying to out-do each other with bad jokes,” Deja said.
“Who wins?” Jelena asked.
“Whoever’s first to Mayberry,” Trevon replied. Turning to Michelle, he said, “How about we go up to your place for a little mayberry fun ourselves?”
“I hear there’s a new sheriff in Mayberry,” Michelle quipped.
“That’s the plan” Trevon winked. “Shall we?”
Thirty-Nine: Goodnight Promise
IN THE WEEKS she had been back from Houston, Michelle had only hooked up with Trevon the one time. Her feelings were cooling. Sure he came through, in a big way, for Nikky. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t have come if he didn’t owe her.
The more she thought about it the more she was sure he went to Houston because that’s how he sees himself, nor for any real emotional connection between them. Without a doubt, she was drawn to him. Equally doubtless, he wasn’t the right man to settle with. She wasn’t ready to settle with anyone yet, not with this crazy mixed up life she and her two rows were involved in.
Between helping catch up with back work, settling Jelena in with her girls, and doing a short job for Mr. Jones to help with the finances, she hadn’t been laid in almost two weeks. It was time to be proactive. She called Daryl and asked him to meet her at the honeymoon suite for a drink before dinner.
Daryl stepped into the beautiful honeymoon suite decorated in deep reds, violets and shimmering satiny off-whites.
Michelle met him at the door. Wearing a red teddy, Prada heels, and a devilish smile, she handed him a double shot of Courvoisier on ice. Then she gave him a sharp swat on the ass.
Whap!
“Okaaayy . . . What was that for? I just walked through the door.”
“You got that little bit of love on your cute ass because at eight hundred-fifty bucks for this place, I don’t plan on either of us doing much sleeping,” Michelle said. “I figured, since I usually win anyway, I’d change up and use it to start a new night instead of a new day.”
The mostly sheer teddy was more an endorsement than a garment. With small, firm breasts, long muscular legs, finely cut arms and back, well-rounded ass and barefaced, unabashed, and unapologetic sexuality, Michelle was a sight and force to behold.
“Girl, looking at you almost dressed like that,” he waved his drink at her barely covered body, “I started when I walked through the door.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Really.”
“Show me . . .”
Thank you for reading Hard Win, the third book in the Michelle Angelique series. Michelle and her team freed the sex slaves and put an end to the ax man, Axcia. Was it enough? Was it everyone? What will happen to the other women held in slave prostitution?
Keep reading for a peek into Michelle’s next book, Hard Run.
HARD RUN
***********************
One: First Day Off
“THAT SAMBO’S GOTTA BE A DYKE.” The short buff man pushed up on the high bar stool at a small table.
“You got that shit right.” The sharp-nosed, twitchy, man agreed with his friend. “Can’t no real woman can do that shit. That bitch almost kicked Tammy’s ass. Good God, Tammy’s been the regional champ for two years!”
“Who let her in here anyway? Her type don’t got no right coming in here to our gym.” The buff man looked around at the people in the room then took a swig of beer.
On her way out of the gym Michelle heard the two men. She stopped and pinned the men with a flat stare.
“What?” the man said. “You got a problem? That wasn't for you to hear, but it's gotta be true. Only dykes can fight like that.”
Michelle didn't want trouble. She shouldn't even be in a public gym, but she had been going stir crazy holed up in the small apartment for the past few weeks. Today's match went well. Her opponent, a high ranked woman fighter, started out over confident allowing Michelle to do a couple good takedowns. After that the fight was on! Michelle lost, but not by much.
Michelle looked at the man, an internal war raged between wanting to do what felt good and doing the smart thing.
Asshole.
No, don't say anything, let this shit go. You're the only black speck in here. Be smart, don’t get involved. This is not the place and certainly not the time. Just leave.
Michelle glanced at the people sitting at the tables, and past the reception in the gym.
Anyone in here could know Galletti. Shake it off. Let someone else deal with this pig.
The men sat in a small open are
a where snacks and drinks were served. They were at the table closest to the path between the receptionist counter and front door. Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle saw her earlier opponent coming her way. The racist prick who called her a dyke stood up. Without completely blocking her way, he moved into her space.
Let it go. Don't draw any more attention.
Shaking her head, Michelle stepped around the man. She reached out to push open the door.
His hand came down on her shoulder. “Bitch, I’m talki—”
Michelle spun back into him. With both hands, she grabbed his hand off her shoulder and wrenched his fingers back hard. She kicked his right leg inward locking it against his left leg. Targeting her total body strength, she exploded into him. He went down with a scream. “Aiighhh!”
On the way, his head hit the foot rest of his chair. A split second later, he thudded on the floor. Like a diving hawk, she struck. Before the sound of his fall echoed off the back wall, she slammed her fist into his face.
KRUTCHK!
His head firm against the cement floor. A pounding strike one hundred percent solid. His face took the full force of her punch. The only thing to give, his nose crunched flat. Blood spewed out over his lower face.
A powerful backswing elbow smashed into his temple. Out cold, his eyes rolled back. His body went slack.
“Sit your ass back down!” Michelle's earlier opponent, the woman named Tammy, screamed. Less than an inch apart, she stood nose to nose with Twitchy.
“He's bleeding!” Twitchy’s shrill voice rose.
Michelle jumped up, bouncing on the balls of her feet, ready for whatever might happen next.
“Park it Hank, or you'll be fucking bleeding too,” Tammy shoved the twitchy man back toward his seat.
Hank shrunk back to the edge of his stool. “I'm calling 911 for an ambulance.”
“No, I'm okay,” the man on the floor croaked. He coughed, turned his head, and spit out blood.
“Stay down, or I swear to God, you'll live in a coma the rest of your miserable muthafuckin’ worthless life.” Michelle held a full fighting stance.
The man made a small single wave of his hand. “No more. I don't want no more. Now get outta my gym you dyke bitch.”
Michelle nodded to her former opponent, who was still on full alert with Hank the Twitcher. “Thanks.” She picked up her gym bag and backed out through the front door.
The woman followed her out into the parking lot. “I'm real sorry about what happened in there with Duke and Hank. Duke's the one you took down. They're both complete asses to all the women. They've never gone too far across the line with me to make it worth the hassle of taking action and dealing with the consequences.”
“Thanks again for your help.” Michelle turned to walk to her car.
“No, wait. What he said was wrong. We're not like that here. I have a lot of juice with the owners and I'm gonna make sure his ass is blacklisted for the racist shit he said.”
Michelle's racing heart rate slowed as she listened to the woman. She took a deep breath and forced herself to focus her thoughts on the woman in front of her. She calmed down a little more. “It's Tammy right?”
“Yeah, Tammy Adcott.” She held her hand out.
“Michelle.”
They shook hands.
“Good to meet you Michelle. You should come back. I'd enjoy another match. I don’t often get a workout anywhere near as good from another woman.”
The tang of ocean mist mixed with the thick smell of shallow mudflats drifted on the cool evening breeze. The light breeze, noticeable now that she had relaxed, refreshed Michelle’s flushed skin.
“Thanks for the invite. I'll think about it.”
* * *
The musk of their lovemaking rich in the room, Levon asked, “You're leaving?”
“Oh, hey,” Michelle said. “You were sleeping so good I felt it would be criminal to wake you. But yeah, I gotta go.”
“Okay, my loss. Will I see you again?” he asked.
Dressed in jeans, unzipped, and a bra in her hand, Michelle leaned across the bed and kissed Levon lightly on the lips. “I don't think so. I'm not from around here.”
“Too bad, Ma, I thought we did real good together. I'd like to sign up for a rematch.”
“Mmmm, Sweetie, you were super good. But like I said, I'm not from around here.” Michelle ran her hand down his chest caressing the skin, she kissed him on one nipple and squeezed the other. She winked and slid off his bed.
Levon, propped up on his elbow, openly admired the view.
Michelle stopped, rested her hands on her hips and gave a little shake. “Like what you see?”
“Before you put the rest on, do me a favor?” Levon asked.
“I can’t stay.”
“Oh, I understand. As much as I’d like to, I’m not asking you to stay. Just turn around so I can lock this moment in my memory for when I’m old and gray.”
Michelle, bra still in her hand, clasped her hands behind her head and did a slow sexy turn. Her jeans, still unzipped, did nothing to hide her well-shaped ass. Her firm, pert breasts, an optimistic B cup, perfectly enhanced her thin flat stomach. At five feet, five inches, medium chocolate skin, much more athletic than voluptuous, she radiated sexuality like a prowling panther in heat.
“Mmmmm, perfect. That was the cherry on top of an amazing night,” Levon said.
Michelle laughed and finished dressing.
She drove back toward the rented apartment in Galveston and smiled as she thought about the evening.
It had been good to be out. The unfortunate scene at the gym almost soured the day. But, Michelle knew it was always best to climb back on the horse that threw her. In this case, the horse was men in general.
Levon seemed like a pretty good guy. He certainly was a good lover. Sex was important to Michelle, not like breathing, but way up the list above many other things. She always found sex easy to find. Good partners were far more the norm than not. She didn't put up with lazy lovers and let the guy know long before they made it to the undressing stage. Michelle hadn't needed to worry about Levon. Exhausted, they both fell into a satisfied sleep.
It was close to dawn, and Michelle wanted to be with her friend Nikky when she woke up. Michelle spent the past two weeks sitting by Nikky's side, nursing and nurturing her back to health. Hiding out and staying out of sight was hard. The constant worry about Nikky was much harder.
A big time, old-school gangster, Ascia, had his top pimp, Jack-Move, kidnap Nikky and they beat her unmercifully. In a daring and bloody move leaving a trail of bodies, Michelle and her team rescued Nikky. Today was Michelle's first time out of the apartment since they took-out Big Baller Ascia and his crew.
The doc, a friend of a friend, flew in that first night, thoroughly checked Nikky over, and said she would live. Still, the first week had been a scary time. The second week saw Nikky a little stronger each day. Stronger was good, but she still had a long way to go.
Michelle thought back to the first day Nikky was strong enough to talk about what happened. It was almost a week after they rescued her from Ascia's. Michelle stepped into Nikky's makeshift hospital equipped room. The clashing stringent odor of antiseptic and seeping bandages overpowered the aroma of the fresh coffee in her hand. Unexpectedly, Nikky's eyes opened.
“Hi.” Nikky's barely audible whisper lifted Michelle's heart like a full concert.
“Well, hi there,” Michelle responded.
“How long?” Nikky asked.
“Six days.”
“I remember some of it, but most is a blur. How bad am I hurt?”
“Don't worry about it right now. You rest,” Michelle said.
“How bad?”
“You're sure you want to know?
“Yes.” Nikky held up her hands. They were covered in bruises; several fingers on both hands were in splints.
“Seven fingers, nine breaks,” Michelle said. “No permanent damage.”
“B
astards. Ascia told them to do it each time. Is he dead?” Nikky asked.
“Yeah, he’s history. Uncle G and me, we got him. He'll never hurt another woman.”
“What else?”
“You had a concussion. Your nose was broken, and both of your zygomatic arches were fractured.”
“What's that?” Nikky asked.
“Sorry, I've been talking to the docs. That's what they call your cheek bones.”
“What else?”
“Are you sure you want to do this now sweetie?” A lump of dread settled in Michelle’s stomach. “Maybe we should wait until you're stronger.”
“Help me sit up and stop stalling.”
“Okay, but sitting up is a bad idea. Most of your ribs are cracked, several are outright broken. The doc said you need to lay flat for a few weeks to let things mend.”
“Not gonna happen,” Nikky said. “Help me sit up.”
Michelle tried to help Nikky sit up. It didn't work. Nikky gasped and whimpered in pain, her face lost all color, and she fell back. She hadn't even lifted her head fully off the pillow.
Tears silently ran down Michelle's cheeks.
A few hours later, Nikky's eyes opened again.
“Hey, you’re back,” Michelle said.
Nikky rolled her head to look at Michelle. “You win. No sitting up, not yet. Now, let me see.”
Without another word, Michelle pulled a hand mirror out of the dresser drawer. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
With a lump in her throat, Michelle held the mirror for Nikky.
“I can't see much. Covered with these bandages, I’m a mummy. How bad is my face underneath this stuff?”
“You've had two surgeries. We took you to a local hospital under an assumed name as the victim of a car accident. They did all the serious work on your face. You need to heal some before they do any more.”
“What else?”
“You'll need some cosmetic work on your teeth. You've discovered your ribs are a mess. You had some internal bruising, so there’s blood in your pee. There's nothing to do. It'll heal on its own. As long as you stay put, nothing is dangerous, but it'll be painful for a while.”
Hard Win: Action Adventure Pulp Thriller Book #3 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series) Page 23