Magic Touch

by Treasure Hernandez

  “Always will be a Brooklyn girl,” she whispered.

  Simmy melted against him, and her pulse quickened. The throbbing between her legs matched her heartbeat thump for thump. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be in Kyan’s arms. He hadn’t touched her in weeks. With all of the partying and running around with Jayla, Simmy had totally lost sight of how much she missed him too. She closed her eyes, inhaled his cologne, and felt his heart beat against her.

  “Don’t ever leave me,” Simmy said, being the most vulnerable she’d ever been around him. “I’m so scared to be all alone, Kyan. Please don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t. I ain’t going nowhere, and neither are you,” Kyan said, holding her a little tighter. “I’ll never leave you, Simone. I swear.”

  Simmy’s mind raced. She was thinking about Jayla and the uncertainty of her situation. She was thinking about how Brooklyn reminded her of how much she missed Mummy Pat and her parents. Simmy was petrified of being all alone. She wanted to hold on to Kyan forever and never let him go.

  With thoughts of being abandoned controlling her actions, Simmy reached up, grabbed Kyan’s head, and pulled him close to her face. He followed her lead and put his hot mouth over hers. Simmy parted her lips and allowed his tongue between them. She sucked on it softly, which caused the petals of her flower to open up. The pulsing between her legs was so intense she squeezed her thighs together.

  “Damn, I missed you,” Kyan whispered into her mouth. He gently held each side of her face as they kissed passionately. Simmy let out a soft moan and moved her body against his, her nipples so erect the friction sent stabs of heated sparks down her spine. Within a few minutes, she could also feel his iron-stiff erection pressing against the top of her pelvis. She wanted him. She let her hands travel below his belt line so that he knew she wanted him, needed him.

  “You feel so fucking good, Simone,” Kyan whispered in her ear. Then he gently bit it. A hot feeling tingled through Simmy’s body. She wasn’t going to fight it. She wanted to be all his forever. She wanted to be the best he’d ever had. Most of all, she just wanted to be wanted.

  “C’mon,” Kyan said softly, moving his body apart from hers. He grabbed her hand and led her through his apartment to his bedroom. Simmy didn’t bother to take her bag or her cell phone. She was lost in lust, and even thoughts of Jayla had faded out of her mind for that moment.

  Kyan led her to his bed. He grabbed the bottom of her shirt and slipped it over her head before he eased her down onto his bed. Simmy lay there watching as he slid out of his sweater and then his wife beater, exposing his six pack abs and slim but muscular chest. His smooth brown skin seemed to glow against the faint beam from the streetlights coming through the slats in his blinds.

  “Did you miss me?” Kyan asked as he climbed onto the bed and then on top of her.

  Simmy shook her head and bit down on her bottom lip. They shared more deep, passionate kisses. Simmy made the first blatant move and slid her hand down to Kyan’s pants. She pushed at his belt line, letting him know she didn’t want to wait another minute. She needed him. She wanted him. She was demanding him.

  Kyan took her cue and eased up from the bed. He smiled at her as he slowly unhooked his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and let them fall to the floor. Simmy smiled back. “Take it all off,” she said sexily. She didn’t want to play any more games.

  “Okay. Okay.” He chuckled. With that, he eased his boxers down and freed his long, thick love muscle. It was standing up like a snake being charmed by a snake charmer. Simmy didn’t mind being the snake charmer.

  “Damn,” she huffed. “You’re so perfect. Damn right I missed you.”

  “Nah, I’m not the one who’s perfect; that would be you,” Kyan said, his voice gruff with lust. He rushed to the bed and grabbed at the waist of her pants. With the skill of a craftsman, he had her out of her pants and panties in a flash.

  Simmy’s thighs trembled, but she didn’t let that stop her from taking control.

  “Lie down,” she said. “I want to show you how much I’ve missed you.”

  Surprise flashed in Kyan’s eyes. She could tell he was a little taken aback by her newfound sexual confidence and prowess. Simmy let her inhibitions fall away; she wanted Kyan to understand that she was his.

  “I love you, Simone,” he whispered. It was the second time he’d said it, and she still hadn’t said it back. Simmy’s stomach quivered at the sound of those words. When she first started out talking to him on the phone and seeing him occasionally, falling in love wasn’t part of the plan, but she couldn’t help it or hide it anymore. Fear and reservations were all tossed away at that moment.

  Without another word, Simmy climbed onto Kyan and straddled him. She leaned over his face and looked right into his eyes. “I love you too, Kyan.” Something exploded inside of her. She began licking his neck, then moved a little farther down, her tongue trailing down to his pecks, and she gently bit each one.

  “Fuck.” Kyan breathed out heavily, his voice thick with lusty pleasure. With every noise he made, Simmy gained more confidence. She wanted him to feel good. She wanted to feel good. She continued down his abdomen, taking special care to run her tongue over every ridge on his sexy, firm six pack. Kyan groaned. When Simmy got to his manhood, she looked up at his face. She parted a mischievous smile and bit her bottom lip seductively. She grabbed his thick rod and, with the skill of a professional, she opened her mouth and took him inside.

  Kyan let out a long puff of air and grunted. Simmy could feel his muscles tense each time she bobbed her head up and then down. She ran her hand up and down over it as she moved her head at the same time.

  Kyan was making noises that sounded like growling. He couldn’t take it any longer. “I fucking need to feel you. I want to feel you now.” He sat up abruptly and flipped Simmy over onto her back before she could even react or protest.

  “Take it,” she whispered. A pang of anticipation flitted through her chest. She kind of liked the feeling of Kyan being in command. She was on her back watching him now. She put her hands on the top of his head.

  Kyan kissed her stomach as he inched down. “Mmmm,” he moaned. Simmy’s chest rose and fell in anticipation of what was coming. Kyan moved back up and kissed her, while at the same time he used his knee to gently part her legs. Simmy lifted her knees willingly to help him.

  Kyan slowly guided his manhood into her deep, wet center. Simmy let out a song of soft moans and groans as he ground into her.

  “Gotdamn,” he growled, his eyes closed and his nostrils open wide. He planted his hands on the bed at either side of Simmy’s head for leverage.

  “Oh, God,” she cooed. Kyan felt so good. They were a perfect match. He filled her up just right.

  “Oh, shit. Oh, shit!” Kyan belted out, picking up speed from the excitement of feeling her tightness suck him in. Simmy had tears in her eyes; not from pain, but because it was so good.

  “Let me ride it,” she panted. Jayla had always told her that riding it was a sure way to take the control from the man, to let him know you could take over if needed. “Strong bitches always ride the dick,” Jayla had told her.

  Before Kyan could protest or say anything, Simmy had him on his back. She climbed over his stiff tool and lowered herself down on it slowly while swirling her hips at the same time.

  “Ahh,” she called out as his ramrod pole penetrated her insides until she felt like it was hitting her cervix. Kyan put his hands on her waist and guided her up and down. Within minutes, Simmy picked up on his rhythm and began bouncing on his thick pole with each pump of his hips. They were making their own beat, their own music.

  “Mmmm!” she yelled. “Oh, shit! I . . . I . . .” Simmy was stuttering because she had never felt the fireworks exploding in her loins that she was experiencing right then. She quickly figured out that this was what an orgasm must feel like. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience and the feeling made her bounce up and down on Kyan harder and faster.


  “Gotdamn, Simone. Your shit so fucking good,” he growled, clutching two handfuls of her ass cheeks. Simmy was feeling good now. She had him and she knew it. She rocked back and forth and then swirled her hips, grinding hard.

  “Ohhhh! Ahhhh!” she screamed out. She fell down onto Kyan’s chest, letting her breasts brush against his pecks. A lightshow of fireworks exploded in her head and squirms of light filled her eyesight. She rocked harder and faster now. She had leaned down enough for Kyan to be able to urge her mouth over his. He sucked on her tongue. Another explosion erupted in her loins.

  “Kyan!” Simmy belted out. Her entire body shook like she was in the center of an earthquake and all of a sudden she was weak. Her legs trembled fiercely, and she went completely still, unable to move. It was only a few seconds later that Kyan’s body tensed up and he had his climax, holding on to Simmy’s ass as he busted.

  Simmy collapsed on top of Kyan, and they both tried to calm their rapid breathing. He stroked her hair gently.

  “Promise me that you’ll be with me for good,” he said. “None of that leaving for weeks at a time.”

  She closed her eyes. “I promise,” she said softly. “Now you.”

  “You already know. But, I swear, I promise. I’ll always be here for you, Simone.”

  Simmy slid off of him and lay next to him. She put her head on his chest and listened to the beat of his heart. At that moment, she decided it was there that she wanted to be. Forever.

  Chapter 9

  Spiraling

  Jayla finally called Simmy’s cell phone from jail early the next morning. Simmy unhooked Kyan’s arm from her waist, eased out of the bed, and rushed out of his bedroom to speak to Jayla.

  “Jay?” Simmy had gasped. “Are you all right? Oh, my God, I’ve been waiting for your call.”

  “Listen, little cousin. I don’t have a lot of time. You going to have to help me out. This shit pretty serious. They had me on a wanted poster for some old charge, something about fifty thousand in stolen furs. Some old, trumped-up shit. They trying to say I was part of some network and all this bullshit. I ain’t do that shit, Simmy. I promise you, I ain’t do it. I wouldn’t have taken you out there if I thought you’d be at risk. But listen to me carefully, okay? This is why I always told you to save for a rainy day. You gotta be strong and hold it down. Take care of the bills and the rent. I’m gonna need you to go and talk to my lawyer. I need you to go to the apartment and . . .”

  Simmy closed her eyes and hung on Jayla’s every word: rainy day, lawyer, fifty thousand in stolen fur, rent, bills, apartment, hold it down.

  With Simmy’s understanding of each sentence, each word, each syllable Jayla had uttered, Simmy’s heart had sunk further and further into the pit of her stomach. She may not have been a criminal justice system expert, but Jayla’s situation didn’t sound promising at all. It made sense to Simmy now why in the beginning Jayla never went to New Jersey to boost. Simmy had a feeling that Jayla knew she was being sought in New Jersey. But, Simmy couldn’t understand why Jayla had decided to go back if she knew shit was hot for her out there. It had to be that Jayla was too high to think things through, too desperate for a quick buck. Jayla had always been so careful and on point with their trips. Simmy wished she would have protested harder, stood up to Jayla once and for all; but now it was too late. All she could do was be strong and do as much as she could to help her cousin out of this situation.

  * * *

  Simmy sat on the hard wooden courtroom bench six rows behind the defendant table. Her legs swung in and out nervously. She’d sat and watched person after person be led into the courtroom, stand before the judge, hear their fate, and taken away again. Not one person was released. It was chilling.

  Simmy looked around at the people on the benches with hope and desperation glinting in their eyes, just like her. It was heartbreaking. She was surrounded by mothers with crunched-up Kleenex fisted so tight their knuckles paled, and women with small children laid across their laps, anticipation arching their brows when they saw their baby fathers, boyfriends, or husbands paraded in front of the judge, only to have those same brows dip low with disappointment and sadness after hearing their man’s fate. There were street dudes there, hunched forward, arms resting on knees, trying to play it cool and show their support for a fallen street brother.

  Simmy’s stomach ached, and her palms were slick with sweat as she watched. She wondered what each defendant thought as they stood before the judge, hands shackled, their freedom hanging in the balance while prosecutors rambled on about their mistakes and added on all of the charges they could find in the books.

  Simmy thought about her parents. What had been running through their minds when they’d stood before a judge and heard their fate: life in prison for her father and twenty-five years in prison for her mother? Had her mother cried knowing Simmy would be all grown up the next time she saw her outside of the walls of a prison? Had her father, who’d always been so strong, finally cracked when he learned he would never, ever get to share another Christmas, his favorite holiday, with Simmy? The thought made her want to cry. She bit down into her jaw and swallowed the hard lump that had formed in the back of her throat. At least she was old enough to be there for Jayla.

  Simmy hadn’t been allowed at her mother and father’s court appearances, not even their sentencing. Mummy Pat had said it would be too traumatizing for her at fourteen years old seeing her parents shackled and in bondage like violent criminals. But now, Simmy regretted not being there. She imagined that her parents would’ve wanted to see her for the last time before having to submit to controlled visits in a prison visitation room. Simmy shivered and wanted to cry and just let it all out despite her being in a courtroom. But she knew better than to cause a scene right now.

  Get it together, Simmy. You can do this. Her thoughts were interrupted. She used her thumb and pointer finger to wipe away the wetness from her eyes before it fell. She told herself to be strong. She had to be strong for herself and for Jayla.

  “Next up on the docket: State of New Jersey versus Jayla Dion Massey.”

  Simmy sat up straight at the sound of Jayla’s name. Simmy’s eyes stretched as Jayla was led in through a side door that looked like the dark wood wall had simply opened up. Jayla’s hands were cuffed in front of her, her hair wild and unkempt like a haphazard bird’s nest atop her head. Even from a distance, Simmy could see the swollen puffs of flesh under Jayla’s eyes and her busted bottom lip. Simmy sucked in her breath. Someone had beat Jayla up, badly. A flash of heat settled over Simmy like a wool blanket had been thrown over her head on a ninety-degree summer day. Her hands curled into fists on their own, and she pursed her lips. She wished she could just rush up to the front, punch all of the court officers in the face, grab Jayla, and run away with her. The rustle of clothing in the courtroom sent an unsettling chill down Simmy’s back. She watched as a slender, young white woman stood up from the table on the opposite side of the room.

  “Your Honor, the state is asking that Ms. Massey remain in custody as she is already known to this court and is considered a repeat no-show risk. She has been before this court numerous times for the same crimes: grand larceny, theft, and aggravated identity theft. Yet, Ms. Massey continues to come to the state of New Jersey, from her domicile in the state of New York, to victimize our establishments and our residents. The state is asking that Ms. Massey be remanded until the preliminary hearing and thereafter for all proceedings to prevent her disappearance back into the big city of New York. We cannot risk her disappearing and costing the state of New Jersey unnecessary use of time and resources to establish and execute a warrant for Ms. Massey’s future arrest. The state cannot risk that cost. We have been looking for her for a very long time, and it is in the state’s best interest that we do not let her go this time.”

  A wave of nausea washed through Simmy’s gut as she watched the white female prosecutor with her Brooks Brothers women’s suit on speak about Jayla with a fami
liarity that made Simmy want to throw up.

  “She has been before this court numerous times for the same crimes: grand larceny, theft, and aggravated identity theft.” Simmy replayed the prosecutor’s words in her head over and over.

  These people know Jayla! Simmy screamed in her head.

  “Ms. Katz, we might be getting ahead of ourselves here,” the judge said, looking over the rim of her wireframe glasses. “We will first appoint Ms. Massey an attorney if she can’t afford one. We won’t even talk about release or bail until I have set a date for a hearing. Slow down. I had no intentions of letting Ms. Massey just walk out of here today. I do realize this is not her first offense in the state of New Jersey, counselor. We all went to law school, just like you.”

  Simmy cheered a little bit inside, feeling like the young prosecutor had gotten a slap from the judge. But, maybe it was just that Simmy didn’t understand what was really going on. Her quick moment of excitement faded fast.

  “Ms. Massey, do you have an attorney?” the judge asked, turning her beady-eyed gaze to Jayla.

  Jayla, flanked by two court officers, cleared her throat. “No, ma’am. Not yet.”

  “Do you wish the court to appoint you an attorney?”

  “You can appoint one for now, ma’am. My family is currently in the process of hiring a lawyer for me.” With that, Jayla made a quick glance over her shoulder at Simmy. “I believe that is in the works right now, ma’am. In the meantime, I would very much appreciate a court-appointed lawyer.” She gave another quick, telling glance back at Simmy.

  Simmy’s stomach clenched, and she tried a halfhearted smile at Jayla. It probably came across more like a look of panic since that was exactly what Simmy felt at that moment. She wanted to shake her head no and tell Jayla that the attorney wasn’t in the works and that she had better stick with the one the court would appoint to her. But, Simmy just kept that silly smile on her face, although the vein at her right temple throbbed with worry.