by Anna J.
“I’m the best,” he bragged.
Mecca grinned. “How much money you got?”
Miguel returned the grin. “How much you willing to lose?”
“Oooh, cocky. There’s nothing sexier than a confident man,” she cooed.
“Likewise with a woman.” Miguel gave her his sexy smile.
In that little exchange both of them knew they wanted each other. With money Ruby and Daphne had been giving her to do as she pleased, Mecca removed a stack from her pocket and held it up before his face.
‘That’s three stacks. I could afford to lose more, but I doubt I will. You be easy on yourself now,” Mecca taunted.
Miguel smiled. He removed a small stack of bills from his wallet. “Not much cash, but I got this.” He showed her his platinum Visa card. “I got an idea. Whoever wins the best of five, the loser treats to dinner.”
“Ya’ll playing cards? What y’all playing?” Karmen asked as she entered the living room.
Mecca rolled her eyes. “It’s a bet.”
A week later Mecca snuck off to a Manhattan restaurant. The place was elegant and exquisite. It was definitely a place where the rich and famous dined. The menu was made up of Italian cuisine, and everything looked or sounded just as good.
After plates of veal Parmesan, pasta in a delicate cream sauce, a bottle of Krug champagne, and a conspiratorial plan to hang out again a few days later, Miguel told the maître d’, “Check please. I’m paying by card.”
“Why the truth serum, Lou?” Mecca asked while being strapped down by her wrists and ankles to a hospital gurney.
“It’s self-explanatory, my dear.” Lou, still wearing the security guard uniform, stood over her in the brightly lit room and smiled.
“Truth about what?” Mecca looked at him quizzically as she struggled with the restraints.
“About what you’re up to. Do you think I am a fool, Mecca?”
“I swear, Lou, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mecca whined in a pleading tone.
Lou leaned closer to her face and stared into her eyes. It felt as if his eyes pierced her flesh. What was he talking about? she wondered. Was it her lustful thoughts of Miguel? Or was he angered that she wouldn’t discuss what she’d been doing while awake? Was Lou feeling left out? Then she realized that he knew only about things that happened, not what would happen, and her silence angered him.
“I thought you knew what was in my heart,” she snapped.
“I do,” Lou said, turning his face from hers. “Your intentions and actions sometimes conflict. That is human emotions.”
Mecca smiled assumingly. “Lou, I’ve done nothing immoral. I will not lie to you. You have truly been a friend, and I know you care about my well-being.”
Lou believed her. He nodded to the doctor, who administered the shot of truth serum. “Release her.”
When Mecca’s dream switched, she was lying naked on her bed in Ruby’s old Hamptons home while gripping the sheets in ecstasy as her lover’s face was buried between her thighs.
“Please don’t stop,” she moaned in euphoric pleasure.
He continued to please her orally, orgasm after orgasm. She felt heavenly as the tension and stresses of her life lifted from her body with every orgasmic release. She held his head as his tongue danced in and around her middle. He squeezed her bottom as she arched her back off the bed. It was too much for her, and she pulled away from his mouth. When his face came into view, she felt sick to her stomach. Tah Gunz smiled at her.
When Mecca came out of her sleep, she wiped her eyes, then stretched. She could feel her satin panties were soaked. Her wet dream was a signal that she needed a tune-up, and fast.
Chapter Six
A gracious woman retains honor, but ruthless men retain riches.
—Proverbs 11:16
“The crazy thing about it is she doesn’t know who I am.”
“Still, be on point, though. She is a vicious broad.”
Mo Blood pushed the wheelchair up a ramp in front of the project building and stopped before the elevator. Tah Gunz was paralyzed from the waist down after spending months in the hospital, recovering from bullets to his stomach that traveled to his spine. The doctors informed him he would be paralyzed for the rest of his life.
For the first two months in the chair, Tah was frustrated and depressed. He hated having to depend on family and the few friends he had to help him with the basic things, like using the bathroom, showering, and getting out of bed in the morning. He woke up every day still in disbelief at his condition. Then there was the responsibility of raising his son. With Tamika dead, it was now his time to be a full-time father. He felt helpless, wondering how he could raise his son when he could barely help himself.
After a while, Tah became accustomed to being in the chair and learned how to get up in the morning, climb in it and the tub. The city paid for the installment of bars in the bathroom to accommodate his condition.
He put the word out about who had done the deed after learning from one of Tamika’s girlfriends where the guy Tamika had been seeing was from. The word he put out meant nothing to his homeboys. Unbeknownst to him, high-ranking Blood members had stripped him of his status. He lost points with the gang when word got out that he had shot Mecca and Shamel out of jealousy. He was considered a sucker unworthy of general status.
“Yo, but the weed is official, my dude. We got all the spots in Brownsville beat,” Mo boasted as they rode the pissy-smelling elevator up to the fifth floor of Tilden Projects. “We doing like ten Gs a day.”
Despite the fact that Tah had lost his status, Mo still treated him with respect. Mo remembered the days when Tah Gunz’s name planted fear throughout the Ville. Tah treated his crew like brothers, even though he often treated Mo like a kid. This often made Mo mad, but he was younger than Tah, so he figured Tah was treating him more like a little brother. Still, rules were rules, and when Tah decided to become a Blood while on Rikers Island, he belonged to Blood for life.
Mo Blood made sure Tah’s appearance stayed up. He kept him in the latest gear and took him out to parties and clubs with him and the crew. Tah accepted his demotion in rank like night and day. It came and went. The guys he grew up with still treated him with respect. Who cared what some guys in jail that were never getting out thought? Brownsville still belonged to him and his crew.
“Nobody found out nothing about this dude from L.G.?” Tah asked as they entered the small apartment.
Though his crew still respected him, no one was going on a hunt for some guy that shot Tah. There was money to be made, and Tah shouldn’t have been at Tamika’s in the first place. What was the purpose of starting problems with a dude just trying to get some pussy from a girl that shouldn’t have meant nothing to him? Pussy had no face; that had always been the code.
Not to crush his pride, Mo simply said, “Not yet. The homies in L.G. ain’t really saying too much.”
The sound of a cell phone ringing caught Mo’s attention. It was his.
“What’s poppin?” Mo blurted into the phone. Tah watched as Mo’s expression changed from something the caller said. “What! When?” Mo roared. “I’m on my way now!” Mo slammed the phone shut and rushed to the door.
“What’s the deal?” Tah asked.
Opening the door, Mo turned to Tah and answered, “Niggas ran up in my spot and robbed it.”
Mo slammed the door shut, rushing off to Brownsville Houses.
Daphne’s Jamaican restaurant was practically empty as she and Mecca sat at a table by the window, eating plates of spicy West Indian food. The more they spent time around each other, the closer they got. They truly adored each other. Ruby didn’t mind, because she had a lot of things of her own going on, and to relieve her stress, she frequented lesbian hangouts for casual sex.
As tempting as it was, Ruby would not go near a man sexually. She knew what a piece of good dick could do for her. She had to think straight and sensible when it came to the game, and she did n
ot need any emotional distractions. She wanted to remain in control at all times, and that was what the lesbian lifestyle afforded her. She was the dominatrix. Not to mention that she had an assortment of sex toys to play with also.
“No word on those robberies yet?” Mecca asked, sipping on a Kola Champagne.
Daphne sighed. “Nah. Not even a rumor.”
Mecca still couldn’t get over how much Daphne’s eyes resembled those of the girl from her dreams. She still could not figure out why the girl in her dreams had stared at her as if she wanted to hurt her. Changing the subject, Mecca buried her head in her hands.
“I’m bored, Daphne. My aunt doesn’t want me working or nothing. I’m used to ripping and running.”
“You know your aunt still partly blames herself for what happened to you. So she is being protective, and I understand that,” Daphne replied.
“So I’m supposed to just sit back and take an allowance from you and her? I sold the house in the Hamptons. I don’t need an allowance.”
Ruby hadn’t argued with her when she informed her about selling the Hamptons villa. Mecca wanted no part of it. It reminded her of a bad time in her life, just like the projects she lived in when her parents were killed. That was the spot where Shamel was murdered. Even after finding out about his betrayal, it still hurt how everything went down. There was no possible way she could sleep in that house with the memories of Tah shooting her constantly on her mind. Selling it was the best thing to do.
“You know what you should do, Mecca?” Daphne asked, as if something suddenly came to mind.
Mecca looked on with anticipation.
“You should travel. Go everywhere. The islands, Africa, Paris. Just travel.”
“By myself?”
“Girl, you need a man. Find yourself a good man and see the world,” Daphne proclaimed.
Mecca knew she spoke from experience. She recalled the conversations they had had about Marley, Daphne’s dead boyfriend, and all the traveling they had done together. The stories of their love life made her envious. Mecca wished she had a man like Marley to treat her like a princess and remembered that Shamel had treated her as if she were his one and only. But she knew now that he was a cheating dog. She watched as Daphne’s attention wandered toward the window.
“You miss him, don’t you?” she asked consolingly.
Daphne replied sullenly, “Like hell.”
“Girl, you need you a man, too!” Mecca joked to bring cheer to the moment.
They both laughed.
“What do you think about Miguel?” Mecca asked.
“Girl, he is fine!” Daphne answered with a grin. “And I see the way he looks at you! Oh yeah, and I see your looks, too. Let me find out.”
Blushing, Mecca looked down at her food.
“Oh no, you didn’t, Mecca!” Daphne snorted.
“What?”
Daphne waived off. “That girl Karmen is a bird, anyway. Do you, Ma!” Pausing for a moment, she looked at her with a serious expression. “Speaking of Karmen, let me ask you something. There’s this look you give her every time you see her, I noticed. And the look isn’t the one that says ya’ll have good history. What’s up, Mecca?”
“Isn’t it obvious I hate the bitch?”
There was no way Mecca would or could explain to Daphne seeing Karmen having sex with Shamel in a vision showed to her by Lou, the devil, or whoever he was. How would that sound? Yeah, I hate the bitch because a man in a vision showed me her fucking my dead boyfriend?
“She’s an ass kisser. A flunky. I can’t stand flunkies,” Mecca answered.
Then Daphne stepped on dangerous territory when she asked, “Why do you give your aunt the same look?”
Mecca was stunned. After inhaling deeply, then exhaling, she replied, “It’s long story. Let’s take a ride to Coney Island.”
That night, while Mecca and Miguel ate at a City Island restaurant, Mecca couldn’t get the conversation she had had earlier with Daphne on the Coney Island boardwalk out of her head. Men had stared at the two sexy sisters with the glittering diamond earrings, expensive designer clothes, and perfumes that gave the fishy-smelling beach a mixture of good and bad scents. Daphne was shocked and angered by what Mecca had revealed.
“On the visiting floor, she would sneak in the bathroom and fuck my man,” Mecca had told her.
“She’s into woman, though. At least that’s what I thought,” Daphne had murmured.
Still, Daphne couldn’t understand why Ruby would do such a thing to her niece. As much as Ruby claimed to adore and love her niece, how could she backstab her like that? Now Daphne began to doubt Ruby’s loyalty. She couldn’t imagine how she would feel if one of her friends or family members had betrayed her like that with Marley.
“Mecca ... Mecca!” Miguel snorted.
“Yeah.”
“Where you at, Ma? You were in a zone. You must have a lot on your mind.”
“Let’s go to your place and help me take my mind off of things.” Mecca smiled.
“Check please!”
Later, as Gerald Levert’s “My Kind of Love” played, Mecca and Miguel locked lips and tongue kissed passionately.
“God, I want you so bad,” Miguel whispered as he lay in the bed, watching Mecca do a striptease out of her red lace thong and matching bra. Miguel couldn’t believe how in shape she was after coming out of a coma. Her tight stomach went perfectly with her small waist and rounded hips. Her breasts were the perfect handful, with pointed nipples of a golden brown hue. She crawled between his legs, taking his stiff manhood in her soft hands, softly stroking him while giving him a seductive smile. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled.
“You are too,” she replied seductively.
They began to kiss again. The taste of cinnamon-flavored toothpaste invaded Miguel’s mouth as she straddled his stiffness and let herself down slowly. So many months without sex had made her vagina tight, and looking at his size, she knew she had to be easy. A sharp gasp slipped out of her lips as she slid down his pole. She rubbed his chest, biting her lip as she felt herself become filled with Miguel and a pleasant feeling. She couldn’t believe how quickly she began to orgasm.
“Miguel, it feels so good,” she moaned. He laid her on her back and explored her gorgeous body with his tongue. When his tongue introduced itself to her clit, she lost control.
She squeezed his head and tried to get up. It was too much, but Miguel held her down firmly and continued to please her. She felt so good, she thought she would faint. Once again, he entered her while she lay on her stomach. Miguel kissed the back of her neck, then nibbled on her ear as he stroked slowly, letting himself go deeper within her confines.
“I’m coming, Miguel!” Mecca moaned as she released her cream all over Miguel’s dick. Miguel also couldn’t hold back any longer, and he felt his balls tighten, pushing the baby-making fluid through his shaft into Mecca. Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms, exhausted and satisfied.
“I’m coming to see your first game,” Mecca said while looking into his eyes.
“My first game is in Italy.”
“I know, Miguel. I wanna travel with you.”
When the hunger built within them again, they made love into the wee hours of the night, until they both fell asleep in each other’s arms.
“Idle time is the devil’s workshop.”
“You should know,”‘ Mecca said sarcastically to Lou while she sat in his office lounge chair, watching him pace back and forth behind his desk.
“Ha-ha, very funny,” he snorted. “On a serious note, this is a time to find out what your talents are. You ever thought about finishing school?”
“For what? I got enough money to live a comfortable life,” she answered.
“Oh, I forgot you sold the villa. Money isn’t everything, Mecca,” Lou growled.
“It is when you come from nothing. And I don’t just have money from the villa. I’m getting SSI from the state for the shooting.”
&nbs
p; “So that’s it. Sit around, collect money, and do nothing? Sounds like heaven in the Bible. You do good on earth, then sit around in heaven, doing nothing forever.”
“Take your frustrations out on someone else, Lou. I have heard these sarcastic Bible complaints before,” Mecca retorted.
Lou cleared his throat. “Anyway, love ...” Lou pointed at the wall. “Look at that picture.”
Mecca did as she was told and turned to see what Lou was referring to. Her eyes went wide in shock as she looked at a picture of her and Miguel making love. Then she awoke out of her sleep, staring at a sleeping Miguel. For some time she watched his soft breathing and smiled to herself. He was definitely a keeper.
Chapter Seven
I will also laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your terror comes.
—Proverbs 1:26
Karmen knew the signs well; she’s been through it before. When a man started messing with another woman, he started becoming distant. He started making excuses as to why he didn’t call or why he stood you up. He became less talkative, and his mind always seemed to be somewhere else. She just wished it wasn’t Miguel. For the first time in her life she thought she’d found a good, honest, loving man. He was everything a woman could ever want: sexy, successful, and good in bed.
Karmen knew the odds were against her. The ratio of men to women was ridiculous in her city and, she imagined, all over the world. Men were outnumbered at least ten to one, and that meant competition. Karmen wasn’t about to get bent out of shape, lowering her self-esteem over a man. She would just confront him and tell him to keep it real. The truth of him messing with another woman would hurt, but it beat being lied to and treated like hand-me-down clothes.
She told herself over and over again that if he was messing with another woman, or several, for that matter, she would either have to step her game up and make him want her more or just walk away. She wished she had another option, because she didn’t want to take the latter.