Gently, she lapped at his scrotal sac, felt it tightening…tensing against her lathering tongue.
A low growl rumbled from Smash. “You working that tongue, baby.” His fingers grazed through her hair. “Pretty hair,” he muttered, his splayed fingertips coursing across her scalp, lifting the silken curtain of her ebony tresses. Then he got rougher…seizing a fistful of hair. Tugging. Yanking roughly, as he guided her mouth to his awakened dick.
“Suck it,” he demanded. His voice hoarse and guttural. Caging her head between his hands, he held Misty in place as he rose from the chair.
Her murmured protests were weak. Smash didn’t seem to hear her.
It was clear that the tables had turned. The ram had taken control.
Before she could make herself heard, a defiant dick stabbed at her lips. Thrusting hard, he forced her mouth open. Engaged in an oral invasion, his stiff dick poked and probed. Luckily, Smash’s dick wasn’t bulky enough to do any real damage.
“Suck!” he demanded, standing over her, gripping her cheeks so hard, she was unable to move her jaw.
Too impatient for her to leisurely work her way from his nut sac to his shaft, Smash was going wild, trying to violate her mouth. Misty shouldn’t have been surprised; he’d already warned her that he enjoyed taking whatever he wanted.
“Whatchu waitin’ for? Show me your oral skills,” he said gruffly. “Give me a reason to walk you down the red carpet.”
How the hell do you expect me to get a grip on your dick with my mouth wide open? You got me cocked and locked, mufucka.
Impatient and frustrated, Smash released Misty’s face. He sank down on the white chair, his defeated dick sagging between his thighs.
“For some reason, I’m not feeling you. Had I known you were all show…no substance, I wouldn’t have wasted my time. Hell, I could have called in some big-titty smuts from the porn industry, but I was trying to give you a shot.”
Smash’s arrogance was maddening. Ain’t nobody tell this deranged bastard to squeeze my jaws so tight, that he had my mouth stuck open like a damn goldfish.
He was the one that had created the tension, but he was pointing the finger at her.
Smash in on some nut ish, but damn, I’m not tryna waste my time either. I got too much riding on this. I’m too close to the red carpet to slip up now.
She could imagine Grammy night…the excitement of flashing lights, big-money connections, hobnobbing with the rich and famous. Shit, she’d already dropped a knot at the King of Prussia mall before she flew out of Philly. Putting together a wardrobe for the Grammy after-parties wasn’t cheap.
Smash’s hand was resting lazily on his soft dick. “Damn, what time is it? I have a meeting with some developers. Have to talk to them about the hotel I’m having built in Vegas.”
Smash was getting restless; Misty had to think fast. Since Smash had mentioned hiring a porn star, an idea entered Misty’s mind. “Hey, Smash…you said you like watching porn, right? Well, I have a suggestion.” She lowered her lashes, and gave him a coy smile.
Unimpressed, Smash looked up at her briefly, then shook his head…glared at Misty like she was a terrible waste of human life.
Smash leaned forward. “You think my eyes gon’ pop outta my head over a smut bitch that’s trained to fake a loud orgasm?” Smirking, he waved his hand. “Fuck outta here. I’m a majority shareholder in LiveSex TV network. Any porn you brought here was probably made by one of my companies,” he said with a sneer.
This nut-ass acts like he owns a piece of every damn thing.
Conscious that gun-toting men were a few finger snaps away, Misty said, “I was thinking me and Horatio could put on a show for you.”
“Oh, yeah? You and the bodyguard?”
“Yes, my bodyguard has multiple talents. He not only protects me, but he also serves me.”
Looking more interested, he sat back and grinned.
“I’d like to see that.” He got up and threw on his pants. Walked over to a table, picked up an expensive-looking pen. He clicked the little tab on the end of the pen.
Not more than five minutes later, the butler walked in.
What the fuck? In New York, Smash was snapping his fingers; at his home he clicked on a pen to get shit poppin’. He could have at least given me a warning, so I could cover myself up.
Smash walked his butler to an adjoining room. He spoke softly to Mr. Butler, but Misty clearly heard Horatio’s name, and presumed that Smash was sending the butler to fetch Horatio and bring him to his bedroom.
Now Misty was nervous. Horatio was well-hung; his bedroom skills were on point. But being around Smash Hitz had him acting nervous…had her worker all wound up and off his game.
She needed a good performance from Horatio to solidify her deal with Smash. She crossed her fingers, hoping that Horatio could relax and perform for the rap icon.
She thought of Chicago, and the way she had ordered Spydah to send Baad B home. Karma’s a bitch. If Horatio doesn’t bring his A-game to the bedroom, Smash is gon’ send my ass packing.
“Grab your stuff if you want to…” Smash pointed to Misty’s clothes that were in a heap on the floor. “I can’t have a lot of traffic and strange niggas up in here. I’ma watch the freak show in another room. Come on.” He motioned for her to follow him.
Misty grabbed her skirt, purse, and the rest of her belongings, figuring if Smash decided to push another button or snap his fingers, she needed to be ready when the clean-up crew swooped down.
Horatio didn’t have a clue why he’d been summoned. His eyes were as big as saucers when he entered the beige and black bedroom.
“I’ma leave you two alone for a few,” Smash said and left the bedroom.
Naked and comfortable in her nudity, Misty plopped on a chair. “You’re not gon’ believe this bullshit.”
“What happened?” Horatio scowled, his voice was raised in emotion, as if he expected to hear that someone had died.
“Smash’s dick went soft while I was giving him some oral. Nigga had the nerve to say he ain’t feeling me. Can you believe that?”
Horatio didn’t utter a sound. It seemed as if his wide-eyed expression wasn’t going to change until he found out why he’d been summoned upstairs.
“I had to come up with something quick…or this trip was going to end in a real disaster.”
Horatio nodded. His eyes went back to their normal size, but the scowl on his face urged Misty to continue.
“So, I told him that we could put on a freaky sex show for him.”
“Who?”
“Keep your voice down,” she scolded.
“Who?” he whispered.
“Me and you.”
“Doing what?” Horatio managed to pull off a whispered shout.
“Now is not the time for you to go soft on me, Horatio.”
“I’m saying…I didn’t come down here for nothing like that.”
“Shit happens. You promised to be down for whatever, remember?”
“I didn’t realize you was talking about putting on a live sex show.” He clasped his chin. “For Smash Hitz! That’s out of my depth.”
“You earn your living doing sex jobs, so stop frontin’.”
“I can’t deal with this. How do you expect me to switch gears like that? I been a fan of that man’s…watching him on TV and on stage since I was in ninth grade. Now all of a sudden, I’m supposed to take my clothes off and put on a freak show for him. I can’t do it.”
“You have to!”
“Nah, man. I can’t.”
Misty grabbed Horatio’s hand. “This is make or break time. Follow my lead. I’ll get us started—”
“Where Smash gon’ be at?”
“Probably sitting in that chair.” She pointed to a chair that faced the bed.
Horatio dropped his head. Scratched his scalp. “I don’t know, man.”
“Take your fucking shirt off. I’m not gon’ let you screw this deal up.”
“What
chu mean?” Angry now, he threw up his hands. “How you gon’ make me do something? Whatchu gon’ do…rape me?”
Chuckling, Smash Hitz entered the room. “If I see lil’ Misty raping you, big man, this freak show will be turned into a comedy routine. And I didn’t bring y’all down here to amuse me.”
Misty went into character. “Is that what you want? You want me to take charge and have my way with you?” she asked in flirty voice.
Smash said he didn’t want any comedy, but the sound of his laughter told Misty that he was having a good time.
“Nah, I don’t want that,” Horatio said miserably. His eyes kept darting toward the open doorway.
Misty wanted to smack Horatio. This is not a high school football game, and the threshold is not a goddamn finish line.
She began to unbutton Horatio’s shirt. He broke out in a sweat. This fool is scared to death. “Don’t be scared, big man,” she said breathily.
“Aiight.” He stood still while she pulled his shirt off. He didn’t budge…not even to help pull his arm through the short sleeves. Once she had his shirt off, she kissed her lip print that was tatted on his arm.
“What’s that on his arm?” Smash asked, voice raspy.
“My brand,” she murmured. Every time she saw her brand, she went into a coochie fit. Having so many pretty boys wearing her signature tat was an ego trip out of this world.
By the time she had Horatio down to his boxer briefs, Smash was behind her, breathing hard…so aroused she could feel the heat that crept over his skin.
Sandwiched between Smash and Horatio, Misty took a shuddering breath. She was down for a ménage, whatever it took to make Smash happy.
Smash’s hands clenched her hips, and he moved Misty out of the way.
CHAPTER 46
“Misty called. She’s in Miami.”
“Oh, yeah,” Brick said, feeling tense. He always felt tense when Thomasina brought up Misty. She had a way of upsetting the balance in his household without even being in town.
“Uh-huh. She said she’s going to the Grammys.”
“I thought the Grammys were in L.A.”
“It is. She said she’s flying out to Los Angeles from Miami.”
“Misty’s doing big things,” Brick said. “Is she going with the same young cat that took her to the BET Awards last summer?”
“No. I don’t think so. Somebody different. Another one of those rappers.”
“Which one?” Brick was curious.
Thomasina looked up in thought. “Hitting Something…Breaking Records…I can’t remember. It’s one of those crazy rapper names.”
“Don’t tell me Misty’s going to the Grammys with Smash Hitz!”
“Yeah, that’s his name. Smash Hitz. Is he somebody important?”
“Is he?” Brick reared back like he was offended. “Smash is the man. Ain’t nobody in the industry bigger than Smash Hitz. He created the game. And he’s still in it. That’s why she’s in Miami. Smash runs that town.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad you’re a fan of his. Maybe now you’ll go along with this idea that’s been running through my head.”
“What’s that?” Brick looked at Thomasina suspiciously.
“I want to throw a Grammy party next week,” Thomasina said.
“Here? At the house?” Brick frowned, shook his head.
“Why not? We need to try and start being a little more neighborly.”
Brick laughed. “Neighborly? You want to invite the nosey neighbors to the crib?” He shook his head in disbelief.
“I figured it would break up the tension. Everyone else on the block are real chummy with each other. We’re the ones that don’t mingle.”
“Well, you chose not to be sociable because they always tryna get in your business. Isn’t that what you always say?”
Put on the spot, Thomasina squirmed. “I know…but—”
“You’re the one that’s always complaining that every time FedEx or UPS delivers a big box to the crib, everybody comes out of their houses and stands around watching like they spectators at a sports event.”
“It’s true. All conversations stop…and they stand as still as statues, watching the delivery people struggling to bring in the giant boxes. I get the impression that they expect a public announcement informing them of what’s inside all the boxes.”
“Yeah, but that wouldn’t even be enough. After you tell ’em, they gon’ want to know if we secretly hit the lottery or something. Any fool can see that my salary couldn’t pay for all this expensive stuff.”
“We have each other and that’s enough. But I think it might be human nature for most people to be curious about the lives of others. That’s why gossip magazines sell.”
“We’re not celebrities. So why do they give a shit about us?”
“Because of our age difference. Because you and Misty used to be a couple. And because we keep to ourselves and don’t give them anything to talk about.”
“So why can’t we keep it like that? Seems like inviting people who don’t like us into our home is only asking for trouble.”
“I didn’t say they don’t like us. They probably resent us for not allowing them to be in our lives.”
“Oh. They feeling some kind of way cuz we don’t let ’em get all up in our business.”
“You could put it that way.”
“Like I said, we need to keep our business to ourselves.”
“Baron…it’s probably human nature for people to be curious about what they don’t understand.”
“Oh, now you want to make excuses for the nosey bastards that get on your nerves so bad, you hate to even go out front. If the back wasn’t blocked off, you’d come and go through the back to avoid their curious glances. You told me that you can’t even say hello without somebody using that as an opening to fire off some questions… ‘How’s Brick handling fatherhood? How come we never see Misty? Does Misty like being a big sister?’ You said that they have no shame in their need to know what’s going on in our home.”
“I know.”
“How about the time you caught that couple from across the street standing around our trash, reading the outside of an empty TV box. Everybody already knows what we get delivered. They make it their business to know.”
“Most people probably share information with each other. We’re the only ones that don’t.”
“We don’t have to report to these neighbors. What…are we supposed to give everybody a breakdown of how we live our lives?”
“Not a report, Brick. Just mention some aspect of our lives. People feel that you’re unfriendly when you don’t tell them nothing.”
“Let them think whatever they want to. Soon as you start telling people shit, trouble starts.”
“You might be right.” She shrugged. “I didn’t always keep to myself like this, Baron. When I was living here alone, I was very friendly with the neighbors. It wasn’t until after all that commotion with Misty…” Thomasina paused, took a harsh breath before she continued. “And after you and I became a couple, tongues really started wagging. Seems like the neighbors’ level of inquisitiveness got out of control after you and Misty broke up.”
“What’s going on between you and me ain’t nobody’s business. Inviting curious niggas in the crib seems like we asking for all kinds of trouble.”
“I know. I know. You’re right, but since it’s obvious everybody has been itching to see all the new stuff we have, I figured I’d invite them over for a Grammy party. Let them see with their own eyes how well my daughter is doing. Kill two birds with one stone. They get their curiosity satisfied and I get to show off my beautiful child…at the Grammys. How many mothers get to do that?”
Brick didn’t like the idea one bit. Breaking bread with a bunch of snooping mufuckas wasn’t the way he wanted to spend a special evening at home.
But Thomasina’s heart was set on it. She was proud of her daughter and wanted to boast. Hell, he’d feel the same way if Lil’ Baron was
doing something special.
“Aiight, baby. But I don’t want you slaving in the kitchen. Let’s do it up big—give them something to really talk about…call a caterer to cook and serve the food.”
Seeing his wife’s broad smile was worth putting up with a pack of gossip-mongers. And dipping deep into their savings.
CHAPTER 47
The hotel phone rang. Horatio jumped up, like he thought the call was for him. Getting it in with Smash Hitz had apparently gone to his head.
“I got it,” Misty said with scorn. For Smash to prefer dick over coochie had been a surprising turn of events.
There’d been tension between Misty and Horatio ever since Smash had pushed Misty to the side so he could get on Horatio’s dick. Misty accused Horatio of deliberately tempting Smash. Horatio claimed innocence. He said he was as shocked as Misty was when Smash started slobbering on his jawn.
Smash blamed his sudden desire to suck dick on being overly medicated. He said his muscle relaxants had him trippin’.
Yeah, whatever.
She had no clue if Smash was still taking her to the Grammys or not.
With an image of Smash Hitz on his knees, sucking Horatio’s monster-sized dick, Misty angrily yanked the phone off the hook. “Hello?”
“Hello, this Jules Miata. May I speak to Ms. Delagardo, please?”
“Who is this…Julius who?” Misty didn’t recognize the voice but she could tell the man was gay.
“Jules Miata.” The man spoke his name with great pride, as though he expected to hear Misty gasp with name recognition.
Who the fuck is Jules Miata? “This is Misty Delagardo. What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Hitz would like me to come over and get you ready for the Grammys. I’ll take your exact measurements when I get there, but to get started, I’m going to need your shoe and dress size.”
Relief flooded through her. I’m going to the Grammys!
“I wear size 4 shoes and a size three dress,” she said calmly.
“Oh, you’re an itty-bitty lil’ thing. It’ll be fun dressing you. I’m bringing some fabulous dresses to show you. We’ll get your jewelry together after we settle on a dress. I can be at your hotel in an hour. Will that work for you?”
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