Girls would see Slug driving around town and joke, “You better be careful, them Miami niggas lookin’ fo’ you!”
“Here I go.” Slug would smile. But he got tired of their threats.
So one night at Leo’s Liquor House, when he heard “There go them Miami cats, Slug,” he decided to take it to them. Full of Hpnotiq and Hennessy, feeling like the Incredible Hulk, he went outside with 9 mm Rugers in both hands.
“Y’all niggas lookin’ for Slug? Here go Slug!” He commenced dumping shells on the Black Navigator. They tried to fire back but Slug didn’t take cover; he just stood square blazing until he had shot Tyrone, giving him a permanent bag, and made Swiss cheese of Black’s Navi. They finally skidded away, trying to tend to their leaking friend in need of emergency medical attention.
After that, every time Slug saw them niggas, he was headhunting. In clubs, at hotels, at the waffle place, even at red lights, until finally them niggas bowed out.
“Fuck it, Slug. Keep that shit, yo.” They sent word to Slug, and just as fast as it had begun, it ended. Slug watched them niggas, but he saw the pussy had come out of them and he let it go.
* * *
That was where he was now, without a connect. Freddie sat back and listened to Slug’s story, knowing he wasn’t bullshitting. Slug had always been wild, that’s how he got his nickname: Slugger. In his younger days, two older cats had tried to take his bike and he beat them both into a coma and landed himself in juvenile detention for eighteen months. He was thirteen.
Freddie knew Slug was serious, but he didn’t want to get involved with the dope game.
“Nigga, I ain’t askin’ you to get down, just put me on and I’ll break you off e’er month,” Slug proposed.
Freddie stared out into the club. It sounded sweet, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to have his name mixed up in it, period. “Dig, Slug, let me think—” He was cut off by his cell phone ringing. “Hold up,” he said, answering the phone. “Yo.”
“You busy?” the sultry voice inquired.
Damn. He should’ve known it was her. Even through the loud music he recognized her voice.
“Well?” she teased. “You must be if you ain’t answerin’.”
“Naw, yo.” Freddie looked at Slug, who pretended not to be listening. “I’m just chillin’.”
“So you pistol whippin’ niggas in barbershops now?” She giggled.
Freddie chuckled and finally realized where he was. “What? You followin’ me or somethin’?”
“No, but they are. I was kinda worried about you so I just called to check on you,” she replied. “Where you at?”
“Jay Cee’s,” Freddie answered.
“You got somethin’ to prove?”
“Naw.”
“I can’t tell. You all up in they hood, like it’s sweet and them negroes is vexed wit’ you.”
He didn’t want to say he was drunk and forgot, so he explained, “My cousin up from down South, so I wanted to show him a good time.”
“Hmm hmm hmm,” she hummed knowingly. “Let me guess. You took ’im to the Gentlemen’s Club. Ain’t you tired of them stank heffas yet? Or are you tryin’ to fuck all of ’em?”
“Naw.”
“Then, are you tryin’ to fuck . . . me?” That was what kept Freddie open on her. She spoke her mind and pulled no punches.
“I’m sayin’ . . .” Half of him wanted to say no, the half that was his heart and belonged to Simone. But his other half, which was his dick, was already rock hard.
She giggled. “Nigga, quit frontin’. We both know what you wanna say. Tell your cousin I said hi and bye. I wanna see you, boo.”
“Where you at?” Freddie glanced down at his watch, seeing it was approaching 3 a.m.
“Where you think? Where I’m always waitin’ for you.” He didn’t respond but she anticipated his state of mind. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you but, um, hurry up. I already started without you.” She ended the conversation with the sound of her kiss that Freddie imagined on the head of his dick. Freddie hung up.
“Nigga, that ain’t wifey, yo,” Slug teased while laughing, then bellowed, “Booty call!”
Slug didn’t know the half. She was the only female Freddie couldn’t bring himself to cut off. She was the type of mistress every nigga wished they had: fine and a freak who asked no questions and had no expectations. Plus her paper was long. She was booty call heaven!
“Don’t worry about Slug, cuz. I ain’t no cock blocker. Go ’head. I’ma go back ’cross the street and try to get that bitch in the thong to welcome me to the city.”
Thong? “They all got on thongs, yo.”
“Exactly. Country niggas got horse dicks, nigga!” Slug laughed.
Freddie laughed with him but refused to leave Slug in the east end alone. “Alone?” Slug smirked then opened his suit coat to reveal a nine tucked into his shoulder holster. “You heard what the fuck Dr. Dre said in ’G Thang,’” he spat, believing Freddie to be familiar with the popular West Coast rap song. “I don’t go nowhere without Nina.” Slug added.
“Nigga, you brought that shit way up here?” Freddie asked, full of surprise.
“Shit. Rather get caught wit’ it than wit’out it,” Slug replied, making Freddie think about his own beef and the fact that he had left his gun in the car.
Despite Slug’s protests, Freddie wouldn’t leave until Slug picked out a bowlegged chick with big titties and slid into her silver BMW 325i. He jumped into his Audi Q7 SUV, eager to make his rendezvous spot.
Chapter Four
His conscience was killing him the whole ride on Route 22 East on his way to the Robert Treat Hotel in Newark. He knew he had a good woman at home, but it was like his dick was driving. He couldn’t understand himself. When he was with Simone, it was all about her and it was all love. But once he hit the streets, it was money and sex. And if a chick ain’t have both, he wasn’t interested.
He told himself for the millionth time that this was the last time. After this, he’d cut her off cold. But he knew it was all a lie as he got on the elevator and rode to the Presidential suite.
When he reached the double doors, he saw that she had kept her word. The door was cracked with a DO NOT DISTURB sign hanging from the knob. He entered and closed the door behind him. The spacious suite smelled just like Tiffany, her favorite fragrance, and he could hear the soft melodies of “Focus the Truth” by Floetry, her favorite song.
Freddie looked down at his feet and found her Chanel slingback heels, one after the other, lying there. As he walked, he found her open-back black Gucci dress on the floor near the plush couch and imagined how she had slithered her mahogany frame out of it. He approached the bedroom door and pushed it open to find her lying on the bed, completely naked, and touching herself like Tweet with the help of a long black vibrator.
She was ghetto thick—some might say big-boned—but she wore her weight well because she had no stomach and a small waist. It made her luscious hips curve even more into thick mahogany thighs that now were spread eagle, exposing the pink of her inner flesh to Freddie’s attentive eyes. She slowly slid the sex toy in and out, taking it in as far as it would go, making her curl her beautifully pedicured toenails, then pulling it back out. She ground her hips in small, seductive circles. Her free hand massaged her large 36 Ds, pinching her nipples and placing them in her mouth, teasing them with her own tongue. The look on her gorgeous face was one of near ecstasy and sensual anticipation. It turned her on more to see Freddie standing in the door, watching her pleasure herself.
“Does it look good to you, baby?” she asked, stopping to let out a whimper and a moan. “Because it damn sure feels good to me.” She slithered her right hand down in between her legs and used her pointer and middle fingers to spread her bottom lips just above her clit.
Freddie leaned against the door, enjoying the show. She lifted one of her shapely legs and arched her back, angling the dildo with her left hand, upward to hit her G-spot.
&
nbsp; “Uhh. Say my name, Freddie,” she cooed. She licked her lips seductively as the sex toy slid inside of her.
“Gina,” he snarled.
“Say it like, ohhh, you want this pussy.” She closed her eyes and bit down on her luscious lip.
“Gina,” he repeated. “But how can I want what’s already mine?” He smirked, knowing it was.
Gina smiled back and sat up on her knees, putting the play toy aside. “Come show me it’s yours then.” She parted her legs like the Red Sea.
Freddie could see the flames burning in her lustful eyes and he smiled. He knew he was the one who had lit the fire in them. He crossed the room and slid in between Gina’s legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist then leaned in to kiss her. But she turned her face away abruptly.
“No. I don’t feel like being kissed tonight. I just wanna fuck,” she told him as she unbuckled his pants and slid her hand inside, grabbing his dick. She pulled his pants down, and at the same time she laid eyes on his manhood and cooed, “Damn, I missed you, daddy.” She slid it into her warm mouth, wrapping her full, juicy lips around the shaft, licking along the whole length. Then she took his nuts one at a time into her mouth.
“Because he is the truth,” Floetry played in the background.
“I wanna play a game,” Gina whispered seductively.
Freddie was still feeling the sensation of her tongue on his sack. “What kind of game?” His interest was piqued. Nothing ever surprised him when it came to her, and he always benefitted from it, which was why he was eager to know what she had in mind.
She replied with a smile and turned around doggie style, bending over the bed and cocking one knee up on it. She reached between her legs and grabbed Freddie’s dick, rubbing it against her clit, then stuck only the head in and tightened her muscles around him. Freddie reached to grab her ass but she abruptly stopped him.
“Uh-uh, you can’t touch me and you can’t move,” she ordered softly, slowly taking more of him inside of her. Freddie thought it would be easy until she took his whole dick and began to long stroke herself, spreading her pussy lips with her fingers. His hands began to tremble trying to keep from palming her pretty, voluptuous ass and ramming himself deep inside of her, but Gina was in control and she intended to keep it that way.
“Can you take this pussy, daddy? Ooh, can . . . can you?” She spoke in spurts between moans. She placed both her feet on the floor and grabbed her ankles, grinding Freddie until he couldn’t take it anymore.
The sensation of a woman’s body to a man’s hand is underestimated, until he’s deprived of it. He cuffed her thighs in desperation making her gasp and giggle as he took control.
“I knew you couldn’t handle this pussy, damn.”
As strong of a dude as he would have liked to believe himself to be, Freddie couldn’t take it any longer. He switched his hands to Gina’s hips and gripped them tightly. He thrust his own hips in rapid succession, causing her ass cheeks to clap like applause was in order. Gina let out cries of ecstasy until she damn near lost her voice. It was if she could feel Freddie’s dick up inside of her intestines. She got off on what she called pleasurable pain.
“Let me be daddy’s freak! If I can’t be daddy’s girl, let me be daddy’s freak!” she groaned.
“You are daddy’s freak,” Freddie replied.
“You promise?”
“Definitely,” he grunted as he pumped his full length as deep as it could go.
“Ugh! Make your freak cum. Freddie, make me.” Gina shuddered and her knees got weak. Her body felt as if it were going through an out-of-body experience.
“Oh, fuck!” she cried out.
Her legs began to shake as she curled her pretty toes. Her muscles spazzed as she tried to gain control over them. She stretched out on her stomach with Freddie still inside her. She continued to have multiple orgasms as he switched up his stroke. Gina squeezed her ass cheeks and released them as Freddie delivered short, strong pumps inside of her love box.
“Ooh, yes,” she growled.
Freddie slipped his thumb in her brown eye as he bit into the right side of her neck. He brushed her hair to the side to gain better access to her spot. Gina’s body cringed as a thousand volts jolted through her, when Freddie’s tongue hit her earlobe. She knew he knew that was the one place that would drive her wild. She began to rotate her hips, forcing Freddie’s dick deeper inside of her. Freddie could feel her pussy getting wetter. He removed his thumb and rose up. Gina started throwing her ass back at him like she was half snake. That was all it took. Freddie could feel the tidal wave building up. He tried to match Gina’s strokes but he couldn’t hold it anymore. He released his soul deep inside of her right before he collapsed on top of her.
“Damn, baby, what you do to me?” she asked more of herself than of him.
“Whatever you want me to,” he responded, and kissed her between the shoulder blades, causing a shiver to run along her spine.
“Don’t do that or that young girl won’t ever see you again,” she joked to hide the tear rolling down her cheek. “Get up and get on your stomach. Let me massage you.”
Freddie rolled over, pants still around his ankles, and turned onto his stomach. Gina sat on his ass and began to massage his shoulders. She could tell he was tense.
“So you gonna tell me what happened?”
Freddie shrugged slightly, feeling the massage. “Some chicken-head stripper and her man caught feelin’s. That dude Cream.”
“Yeah, I know Cream. He one of Tay’s people.” Gina sighed. “You want me to get somebody to holla at ’im?”
Freddie knew what Gina meant by her question because her family was heavy in the game all over Jersey, as deep as Atlantic City. The Peterson clan was well known and well respected. None of the women in the family worked unless they wanted to, or they had their own business. Gina, herself, had never worked a day in her life, but she lived a lavish life. Her only official source of income was a foreign car lot in Montclair, New Jersey, which she hardly ever visited and was run by two Jews in her name. The business had been a gift from her uncle, Lou Peterson, who doted on her. All she had to do was say the word and Dante and his whole clique would be marked for death. But Freddie’s manhood wouldn’t allow him to let a woman handle his beef.
“Holla for what? Fuck them jokers. I can handle me, yo,” he boasted.
“I knew you was gonna say some ol’ fly bullshit like that.” Gina climbed off his back and pushed him onto his side. “Freddie, listen to me. These niggas is not playin’ wit’ you. Yeah, it’s stupid, but since when you known niggas wit’ guns for hearts to think smart? What you gonna do when Tay and them come for you?” she asked with clear concern.
Freddie rose up on his elbows, agitated because his young mind thought she was questioning his manhood. “Yo, you talkin’ to me like I’m some coward or something! Fuck you mean what I’ma do? I’ma do me! Niggas bleed just like me!” he spat.
“Thank you, Biggie Smalls,” Gina remarked sarcastically, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. She framed his face with her hands, admiring his beauty and loving his warmth but loathing his youthful ego. “Did I say you were a coward, Freddie? Did I? What? You think being a man is so-called ‘doin’ you’? Baby . . . My sweet, sweet baby. The measure of a man is not this,” she said, grabbing his dick, “or how bad he can be. It’s this,” she said, tapping his forehead. “I know you got it in you, Freddie. You smarter than that. Don’t let these people drag you down. Think. I see so much in you. That’s why I . . .” She stopped short, hoping he didn’t know what she’d started to say, but he did.
“You what?”
Gina palmed her head, then ran her hand through her microbraids and waved him off. “Just . . . go home, Freddie. Do you, like you said. Go on home to your little girlfriend and do you. Shit, I’m a grown-ass woman. I ain’t got time for all this high school bullshit,” she stated, fighting to sound strong and not let any tears flow.
“A’ight, yo,” was all he repl
ied and got up, pulling up his pants.
Once he was dressed, he looked at Gina who had her back to him, looking out the window. He knew what she was feeling and, he couldn’t front, he was glad she felt that way about him. Gina was a jewel and he was glad she was his jewel, even if it was only on the low.
“Can I have a kiss before I go?” Freddie teased.
“I thought I told you I ain’t wanna be kissed tonight,” she answered.
He checked the time on his phone and smirked. “Technically, it’s not night anymore.” He paused. “It’s almost five.”
“Still no.” She rolled her eyes.
“Please,” he begged with a smile.
“No.”
He crept up on the bed and tried to kiss her, but she turned away.
“Oh, you gonna kiss me!” he demanded, tickling her along her sides, knowing that drove her crazy.
She laughed until she stuttered, “Freddie, stop! I’ll kiss you! I’ll kiss you!”
“A’ight then,” he said triumphantly.
He slithered his tongue in her mouth, which she caught firmly between her teeth.
“I’ll bite it off if you tickle me one more time,” she warned playfully.
“Zoo gaa a winna!” His words came out as gibberish.
“I got a winner?” she decoded Freddie’s words.
“Yeah!” he confessed.
She released his tongue, caressed it with her own, then broke the kiss and looked him in the eyes. “Then act like one.” It was moments like these she cherished.
Freddie held her gaze. “I’ll call you,” he said as he backpedaled toward the room’s door. He turned around and then exited the room.
“And I don’t care what you say. I’ma take care of that for you!” she yelled after him. After she didn’t get a reply and heard the door close, she breathed a sigh of relief, glad she had made her point.
On the Run with Love Page 3