Watch Out for the Big Girls 3

by J. M. Benjamin

  Reddick asked him a question, but he couldn’t hear him. His mind had drifted off elsewhere again. Think, Mac. He pushed himself to remember why the name Clips continued to resonate in his mind.

  Then, out of nowhere, it hit him. He recalled a conversation he had with Agent Richards about someone who was snooping around and may have been stalking her. The name given was Clips. Once the name became clear to him, McCarthy remembered the conversation as if it were yesterday. Especially the fact that he was one of the young top earners and shooters of a crew whose leader was one of the Double Gs’ victims. Piece by piece, McCarthy could see the connection coming together. Then it hit him. Monica popped in his head, and he realized that she was connected to Clips’s boss.

  McCarthy accelerated to Lacey’s, still ignoring Reddick’s questions. He began punching and pounding on the steering wheel and dashboard as he blew his horn and weaved in and out of traffic. A shocked and confused Reddick looked on.

  Five minutes later, they were pulling into the parking lot of Lacey’s job, only to receive the unfortunate news that they had just missed Lacey by a couple of hours. They were hopeful until her manager followed up with the news that he doubted she’d return because she asked for her last paycheck.

  After getting nowhere with questioning the manager and a few of the other bottle girls, McCarthy led the way up out of the club. A look of defeat appeared on Reddick’s face as he trailed behind him. Once they were back in the unmarked car, McCarthy looked over at Reddick with a smirk on his face.

  Reddick noticed him staring at him. “What has that shit-eating grin on your face?”

  McCarthy chuckled. “Don’t worry. We have another lead to follow.”

  Looking at him oddly, Reddick asked, “Who?”

  “Give me a second.” McCarthy held up a hand. He pulled out his cell phone and sent a quick text message out and then drew his attention back to Reddick.

  “One of the biggest drug dealers in Las Vegas, the Prime Minister himself.” McCarthy’s smirk returned.

  It was a name that Reddick was all too familiar with, the name of another organized crime leader in Clark County who seemed to be untouchable.

  “Do tell,” Reddick inquired as McCarthy rolled down his window and tossed the red light onto the top of his unmarked car and peeled off.

  Chapter 21

  Coming out the shower naked and putting on lotion in front of him had been Monica’s way of seducing him. This was like a ritual with them; every time after they pulled a job off, they would both be extremely horny and would end up having some banging sex. The violence, money, and guns gave Monica a serious rush that always got her pussy soaking wet.

  “It’s okay, Prime. You did what you had to do. Besides, that rough gangsta shit turns me the fuck on, daddy. You know that.” And Monica knew Prime loved when she called him daddy.

  They began to kiss. Prime let his hands roam all over Monica’s smooth body. He palmed her titties first, playing with her nipples, then palmed her ass. Monica moaned, loving how his big, rough hands sent sparks through her body. She quickly unbuckled his belt and slid her hands inside his boxers, gripping his dick, squeezing, touching, and rubbing it.

  Prime pushed her back onto the bed and stripped, peeling the wife beater off first. Next went his jeans and finally the boxers. Monica let her eyes feast on the man in front of her, and then they came to rest on his manhood that was standing at full attention as if it were saluting her.

  Monica pulled Prime toward her so he was standing directly in front of her and she began kissing on his chest and gently biting and licking his nipples. She kissed a trail down his stomach. When Monica got down to his magic stick, she began kissing on the head and swirling her tongue around it. Then she took him in deep and began hitting him off.

  When they first started fucking around, Prime had schooled Monica on how he liked to be pleased. He said most men like their head just how they like their pussy: tight and wet. The wetter the better. Monica was a good student and a quick learner; she slobbered and slurped on Prime’s dick until her spit was dripping off his sack. She lightly ran her fingernails up and down his body, making Prime shiver in pleasure. With her other hand, she played with her pussy, rubbing her clit and moaning like crazy. Prime slowly pumped in and out of her mouth, loving how she handled his dick. His head was back, his eyes were closed, and his mouth was open. “Umm, damn, girl. Mmm, yeah, just like that. Suck that shit, bitch,” he mumbled.

  Monica dipped her head a little lower and caught his balls in her mouth and began sucking on them while she stroked his dick with her hand. “Like that, daddy?” she asked.

  “Just like that,” Prime whispered.

  Monica began sucking on the head, just the head, loving the look of pleasure Prime had on his face. Then she spit on his dick and began deep-throating it, fast and hard, tightening her jaws. She felt Prime’s body tense, and she prepared herself. Monica knew that hot milk would soon be coming and she was going to swallow every drop just like Prime taught her to.

  But Prime wasn’t ready to bust yet. He pulled out of her mouth and got control of himself. “Face down, ass up,” he ordered in a hoarse whisper.

  Monica quickly assumed the position: face in the bed, back arched, knees spread, and ass in the air. Prime stared at Monica’s wet, shaved pussy and put his face all in it, kissing and sucking on her wet pussy lips, then gently licking on her erect clit. Monica moaned in pleasure. As Prime ate the pussy, he gripped and smacked Monica’s ass, inching his finger to her most sensitive hole.

  As he slurped on her clit, he gently slid his finger into her ass, causing her to gasp and cry out, but not in pain.

  “Oh, yes. Mmm hummm. Oooh, Prime, here it come. I’m about to . . .” Monica purred, on the verge of a serious orgasm. She ground herself on Prime’s mouth and came. Prime slid his finger in her ass deeper. Monica was rubbing her clit, working on her second nut. She already felt the fluttery feeling again building up inside her belly. Just then Prime stopped, got up, and walked to the other side of the room, returning with the strap-on in his hand. He resumed tossing her while he rammed the strap-on inside of her pussy. Within seconds, Monica was cumming again.

  Prime dangled the dildo in front of her, which was covered in her juices, and she immediately took it into her mouth, sucking on it. “Ya pussy taste good, don’t it, girl?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Monica answered with her mouth full. Prime pushed himself into her wet, waiting pussy and began viciously assaulting it from the back, loving the way her ass jiggled each time he stroked.

  Prime slid his finger back into her ass and began finger popping it. The pleasure of having all three of her holes filled at the same time was overwhelming, and Monica put her face in the pillow and screamed as she busted back-to-back nuts.

  “Ooh, fuck. Harder. Harder, Prime!” Monica demanded, throwing her ass back at him, meeting Prime halfway. Prime smacked her ass cheeks as hard as he could as he plunged in and out of Monica. She couldn’t take any more and fell forward on the bed. Prime stared down at her beautiful, sweaty body.

  “We ain’t finished yet.”

  She rolled over and looked in Prime’s lustful eyes. Then she stared at his dick that was still harder than a mu’fucka. “Wait, hold up,” Monica said and crawled over to the stack of money and recklessly spread the bills all over the bed. “A fantasy of mine. I always wanted to do this.”

  Monica lay on her back and lifted her legs, keeping them together. Prime gripped the backs of her thighs and leaned in, pushing her legs back farther, so her knees and chin were touching; then he proceeded to beat the pussy up.

  “Like that, baby, like that?” Prime breathlessly asked as he pounded Monica.

  “Yes. Oooh, shit, just like that,” Monica gasped.

  Prime noticed how noisy their lovemaking was. The bedsprings creaking, their bodies slapping together, the wet slurping noise Monica’s pussy was making as Prime pumped, her moaning and screaming and him grunting like a wild anima
l: this was all music to Prime’s ears. He felt the pressure building up in his balls.

  “Cum in me, Prime. Please, cum all in me,” Monica begged.

  Prime planned on doing just that. He gritted his teeth and began long-dicking the shit out of Monica. When he felt it, Prime went balls-deep inside of her tight, wet walls and exploded. He collapsed on top of Monica, who gladly welcomed his body, wrapping her arms and legs around him. He had to admit, he enjoyed fucking Monica, but not enough not to play her the way he was. As a reminder, he kept at the forefront of his mind the fact that Monica made a failed attempt at setting him up. Had that not been the case, things may have been different, thought Prime.

  They remained in this position for several minutes. Monica felt Prime’s dick get soft inside of her. He rolled off of her and lay beside Monica, reaching for a Black & Mild.

  “Did you tell her about us yet?” Prime asked.

  Oh, boy, here we go, Monica thought as she watched Prime light up a gutted Mild. “No, I haven’t told her yet.”

  “Why not?” Prime pressed her.

  “Because now isn’t the time.”

  “When are you gonna tell her, Monica?” Prime asked.

  Uh-oh, he’s using my whole name. “When the time is right, Prime. We got too much to worry about right now, like a baby.”

  “You are full of shit, you know that? Why do you keep putting it off? What’chu scared of?” Prime pretended to be upset.

  Monica shot Prime a hard look. “Don’t do that. Stop what’chu doing. I ain’t scared of no-fuckin’-body and you know that.”

  Prime let out a heavy sigh as he inhaled the Mild. She was right, and they both knew it.

  “The problem is that not only am I fucking you, which is at the top of the ‘don’t’ list in the Double Gs organization, but I’m now in a love triangle with two rival crew leaders.” Monica chuckled.

  “Oh. Soo, you love this bitch?” Prime asked, his nostrils flaring slightly.

  “Prime, stop.”

  “Yeah, you do,” Prime answered for her. Based on Monica’s responses, he could tell that he’d convinced her that he felt some type of way about her not telling Starr about them. He had been working on Monica for weeks now.

  Monica rolled her eyes.

  “You know what? The next time I see her I’m telling her about us, myself.” Prime quickly hopped up and closed the distance between him and Monica. He gripped her arms and pulled her close, so his face was inches from hers.

  Monica stared into Prime’s dark eyes and saw anger and rage. The grip he had on her arms was starting to get painful. Prime lightened his grip and lowered his tone fast.

  “You know what? Do whatever you wanna do.” Prime gave up.

  A frown appeared on Monica’s face. She had been putting it off for a minute now, and she really didn’t know if she should break away from the Double Gs, and particularly from Starr, especially after what happened to Felicia, which was a mystery. Monica knew she had to say something as a form of damage control. Clearing her throat, she cooed, “I’m gonna tell her, baby. Trust me, I am. But I’m the one who broke the rules, and the penalty for that is death.”

  Mission accomplished, thought Prime. Still, he kept his cool “You sure?” he asked with a straight face.

  Monica slowly nodded. She looked up at Prime and saw the sincerity in his eyes. She was about to speak, but Prime cut her off with a hungry, urgent kiss. He pulled Monica into a powerful embrace, and his tongue pushed its way inside of her mouth, probing and searching. Monica felt her body reacting to the kiss. She felt Prime’s manhood get hard and soon it was pressing against her stomach. Prime pushed her onto the bed, and Monica could tell by the look in his eyes that it was about to go down. She knew her hands were really about to be full. For one, this was Prime’s second nut, so he was definitely going to last longer this time. And, two, he had a point to prove to her. This was his little way of apologizing: makeup sex for the minor beef they just had.

  Prime stared down at Monica, slowly stroking himself with a devilish grin on his face. “Round two, Miss I’m a Grown-ass Woman.”

  * * *

  Hours after their lovemaking session was over and done with, Monica sat in the bed, smoking a blunt of haze and thinking. Prime lay next to her, sound asleep. Monica stared at him and thought how cute and innocent he looked in his sleep. It made her think about how pretty or handsome their daughter or son would be. She admired his dark peach fuzz over his top lip and a wisp of chin hair. His face was like the rest of his body: well defined and chiseled.

  Monica let out a heavy sigh as she stared at Prime. Sometimes it surprised her just how much she loved him and how fast it happened. Just couple months ago, she was a confused, bitter, anti-man, full-blown female with lesbian tendencies even though she was still young and tender.

  Monica had decided that all men were liars and cheaters. She remembered her first boyfriend. She had met him in high school. Monica gave him two years of her life, making him wait patiently to have sex with her, four months to be exact, before she allowed him to pop her cherry. That was a long time ago.

  The vibration of her cell phone returned Monica to the present. Looking down at it, she noticed she had just received an unwanted text message. It had been a minute since she had answered any messages from him. Without opening her phone, she read the text on her screen, then quickly cleared it.

  She hadn’t been checking in or providing any real-time updates on what had been going on with her mission. She was lost in what was commonly known as deep cover. She had lost sight of who she really was and her purpose for being there. The Double Gs lifestyle became real to her. All of it became so surreal. She had become her character. Even when it came down to her broken agreement regarding Prime. She knew she wouldn’t be shown any mercy if her secret involvement was found out by the Double Gs or the agency. It seemed she was in bed with everyone relevant to her initial and intended mission—the Double Gs, Prime, and the FBI—and she didn’t know how to get out of any of them without being thrown under the jail or buried six feet deep.

  Never would she have thought she’d been in the predicament she was in, but sex had clouded her judgment with Starr and Prime, and she found herself back in bed and in the arms of them both repeatedly. And that was the part that was pushing her further away. She knew she was slipping and it was imperative that she get refocused, but she wasn’t convinced that she really wanted to.

  Another text message came across Monica’s screen. She quickly read it. The second one caught her attention. She did her best not to make any reaction toward the message, careful not to alarm Prime. The first message to pop up had read, We need to talk. That’s all he ever texted when he needed to get in contact with her or wanted an update. But the words You’ve been compromised disturbed her.

  Her eyes shifted to Prime, who was now awake and staring at her while she was looking at her phone. “That’s her?” Prime asked.

  The question couldn’t have come at a better time. She was already trying to think of an excuse to give to Prime for her next move. “Yes. I have to go, babe. We have an emergency meeting,” she lied.

  Prime nodded. He was ready for her to leave anyway. He too had something to tend to. “It’s cool,” he said nonchalantly.

  Monica rose up off the bed and began to gather her things. The words, “You’ve been compromised,” continued to ring off in her head as she dressed.

  “I’ll see you soon,” she told Prime once she’d gotten fully dressed.

  After exchanging kisses with him, moments later Monica was putting distance between her and Prime’s crib. Pulling out her phone, she read the alarming text again, wondering what her superior officer, McCarthy, meant by her being compromised. She was tempted to respond, but she had no clue what to say. Rather than reply, Monica tossed her phone into the passenger seat.

  She remembered McCarthy telling her in the beginning that if he ever texted her that, then he was pulling her out. That was the last t
hing Monica wanted or felt she needed. She couldn’t figure out how she had been compromised, but outside of responding to McCarthy, she knew the only other place she would be able to find out if it was true was if she went around her Double Gs family.

  She glanced at her Michael Kors watch. “Shit,” she cursed, realizing today was the day they introduced and held a get-together for the new Double Gs members.

  She abruptly pulled over alongside the street’s curb. She took her key out of her ignition and unlocked her glove compartment. Retrieving the .40-caliber and extra clip she kept in it, she then popped her trunk and exited her vehicle. She snatched up the P89 she had stashed in her trunk, and she climbed back into the driver’s seat. If McCarthy is right, I’m damn sure not going out without a fight, she told herself as she threw her car back in drive.

  Monica knew that if her cover had been blown, she’d be finding out soon enough, because all of the Double Gs were expected to be at the welcoming festivity; and she wanted to at least have a fighting chance.

  Chapter 22

  Frenchie rode shotgun while he and Freeze cruised the city, vibing out to a trap music CD. They were conversing about Frenchie’s plans now that he was a free man.

  “All I’m tryin’a fuck wit’ really is that weed money. If it ain’t green and leafy, it’s beneath me. If it’s white, it ain’t right. I gotta change my game up some, that’s all. I been researching the market out here since I been home. I just need a strong plug,” Frenchie informed him. “Fuck all that hand-to-hand shit. I’m past that. I’m tryin’a sell weight to the niggas who hand-to-hand. I still know how to grind, feel me?”

  “Damn, you been doing your homework on the weed business, huh?” Freeze asked.

  “Hell yeah! Think back when you was young coming up. All niggas wanted to do was get money, fuck bitches, and get high. Shit ain’t change. I don’t care how long I been gone. Everybody and they mother is smoking. The only difference now is you got that exotic, name-brand shit. Haze, Pep, Sour Diesel, and all that other shit and that shit cost money as you know. It got these motherfuckas lookin’ like fiends out here. They gotta have it,” Frenchie explained.