She released his medium hard-on from his boxer briefs and let it fall over her hand. Jasmine loved chocolate, but she loved Mox’s chocolate pipe even more. She licked her lips at the sight of his muscle hardening in her grasp, kissed the tip, and then took as much in her mouth as she could.
The music came back on, and Mox jumped and turned to see if anyone was coming. Jasmine kept sucking. She held his stiffened manhood in both of her hands while she slobbed on his sack.
“Relax baby,” she said, jerking and sucking his shaft. “They’re not coming in here, we’re alright.” Her motions sped up and Mox let his head rest against the refrigerator. His eyelid shut, and felt his climax building up. Minutes later, he opened his eye and watched Jasmine with her pretty face, slob all over his dick. She stopped and looked up at him. “Am I doing it good, baby?” Mox nodded yes. “I want you to cum in my mouth, and all over my face.” Mox nodded yes again. He couldn’t seem to get any words out of his mouth.
Jasmine continued stroking Mox’s long, log like, third leg. He snatched a handful of her hair once he felt his nut coming and she kept her lips wrapped around his head.
“Ooooohh… I’m cummin’ baby.”
Jasmine opened her mouth wide, and got ready for his load to shoot down her throat, and Mox exploded. She jerked faster, catching everything that came out. It was in her eyes, dripping off her chin, and even in her hair. “Damn baby, that was a lot.” She said, wiping cum from her face. “I still haven’t told you what I need to tell you.”
Mox smiled. “I thought this is what you needed to tell me?” He looked down at his dick.
“Part of it,” she answered. “But not the most important part.”
“Important part, what’s that?”
Jasmine snatched a paper towel, wet it, and then wiped her face clean. She was hesitant on revealing the news to Mox. She didn’t know how he would react, and the last thing she wanted to do was push him away. She gazed into his eye and tried to read his thoughts.
“You know I love you, right Mox?”
Mox smiled. “I love you too.” he replied.
“You know I understand our situation, but to be honest, I want more of your time.”
“Babe, I can’t—”
“Wait,” she cut him off. “Let me finish saying this. Mox, I haven’t been with a man that made me feel this good in a long time. I can honestly say that I trust you, I love you dearly, and I want us to start a family together.” She paused and waited for his reaction.
Mox was silent. He didn’t know what to say. He loved Jasmine, and had strong feelings for her. But for them to start a family, they would have to make a child, and that was something Mox hadn’t planned.
When she saw he wasn’t going to say anything, she blurted out. “Mox, I’m seven weeks pregnant.”
“You what?”
“I’m seven weeks pregnant,” Jasmine grinned. “We’re gonna have a baby.”
“A baby?”
“Yes Mox… a child, you know… an infant. How does that make you feel?” Mox was stunned. He didn’t know whether to be happy because of the blessing or upset because of his situation. “Well, say something.”
“I guess I feel good,” he paused. “Yeah, I feel good… I mean, there’s a life growing inside of you, how can I not be happy?”
“So, you’re not mad?”
“No,” he said, wrapping her in his arms. “Not at all. It’s a surprise, but it’s also a blessing. I’m very happy that you’re carryin’ our child.”
“You being happy makes me happy, Mox.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I love you and there’s nothing that can make me change the way I feel.”
“I love you too, babe. Listen, I got some important business to take care of, so I gotta get outta here. I’ll call to check up on you and make sure you all right. Cool?”
“Yes,” she answered. “But I would be much better if you stayed.”
“You know I can’t stay, baby. Next time I come up, I’ll stay for a few more days than I usually do, how’s that?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
Mox shrugged and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.” Before walking out, he looked in her eyes and placed his hand on her stomach. “Take good care of our baby,” he said, before he and Travis made their exit.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
After visiting Jasmine, Mox floored the $90,000 vehicle up the highway to New Rochelle. It had been months since he walked through the projects. The memories served as horror stories that he felt he could live without. His reluctance was built mostly on fear; he was afraid to face his reality and deal with the issues at hand, he kept dodging them—eluding the truth, running from his own shadow.
He tapped the blinker on, got off at the exit and navigated his way through the back blocks and onto Webster Avenue. Once he reached Horton Avenue, he parked, and he and Travis got out the car. “This is my hood, this is where it all started.”
It was two days before Thanksgiving and the hood was empty. A cool breeze whizzed by and blew some leaves into the street as the two men entered Hartley Projects.
“I know that ain’t that nigga, Mox!” Someone shouted.
Mox and Travis turned their heads at the same time, trying to see who was speaking, but no one was on the street; just parked vehicles. Mox saw someone wave their arm out the window of a red Mercedes Benz three cars from where they stood.
“Who that?”
“Come and see!” he yelled back.
Mox looked at Travis and began walking towards the parked car. When he got within ten feet, he heard the door pop open and the driver stepped out.
“Whaddup nigga?” Tyrell threw his arms up.
“Oh shit, Rell… whaddup?” A smile came across Mox’s face. He han’t seen Tyrell in almost a year. The last time they spoke, it was about Dana’s murder. “Okay, I see you lil’ nigga.” he nodded. To see Tyrell doing good for himself brought joy to his heart. He could tell by his demeanor and the car he was driving what type of business he was into, but Mox never judged anyone. “You got your weight up, huh?”
Tyrell smiled. He had a certain respect for Mox. He knew everything he told him was to benefit him in the end. In the short time they did spend around each other, Tyrell soaked up plenty of jewels. He learned a lot and saw a lot. “Yeah, something like that.” he answered modestly. “I’m jus’ out here tryna eat like everybody else.”
“Trying? Mox smirked. “Stop frontin’, nigga, I see you… new Benz n’ shit,” He pointed to the car Tyrell got out of. “You fresh, probably fuckin’ all the bitches… I know nigga.”
Tyrell laughed. “Yo, chill… you wild.” He pulled a roll of money from his pocket and held it up so Mox and Travis could see it. “Fuck them bitches, though, this is what it’s all about.”
Mox was impressed. The young boy was coming into his manhood. “Take a walk wit’ me real quick.” he said. “Oh,” he turned to Travis who was standing off to the side. “Yo, Rell, this my homey Travis. Travis, this my lil’ homey Rell.”
“Peace.” Tyrell gave Travis a pound. “C’mon Mox, we can walk up the block.” He turned and yelled down the block. “Yo Six! Yo Six!”
“Yo!” Six screamed from sixty feet away.
“Keep ya’ eyes open!” Tyrell shouted and then tapped Mox and they walked off. “So, what’s good?”
“Wassup wit’ the white boys?”
“Them niggas is history. I handled that.”
“You handled that, handled that?” Mox repeated.
“I handled that, my nigga. Trust me, newspaper clippings and all.” Tyrell reached into his back pocket, pulled his wallet out, and showed Mox the newspaper clipping. He took a few seconds to read it through. The only light on the street was from the street lamps, and he had to squint to see the words on the paper.
“You killed a kid, nigga.”
Tyrell dropped his head in shame. Out of the many things he’d done in the street, that was something he w
ished he could take back. “I didn’t mean to do it. I thought he was gonna stay inside. That’s my word, Mox… that shit be fuckin’ wit’ me too.”
“What about Vinny? I don’t see anything about him.”
“I don’t think he was there, and if he was, he was inside.”
Mox didn’t like the fact that a kid had been killed, but he was satisfied. Mikey and his brother were dead, and if need be, he would deal with Vinny when the time came.
“Have you seen or heard from Frank or Nate?” Mox asked.
Tyrell dropped his head again. “You don’t know, huh?”
“Know what?”
“The Italians hit Nate in Frank’s club a couple months back.”
“Get the fuck outta here…”
“Word.”
Mox couldn’t believe it. “Not Nate, Nate was tough as nails.”
“They caught him slippin’… fuckin’ wit’ them bitches in the club and not payin’ attention to his surroundings.”
“Damn,” Mox shook his head. “So, where the fuck is Frank?”
“Shit… I don’t know. Police shut the club down and nobody ain’t seen that nigga. Like he disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Dissapeared, huh?” Mox laughed. “Yeah… so, wassup? You wanna make some real money?”
“What’s real money?” Tyrell asked.
“A hunit… hunit and fifty a day.”
“Every day?”
“Every day.”
“You tellin’ me I can make a hunit thousand dollars every day of the week… even Sunday?”
“Nigga,” Mox paused and looked Tyrell in his face. “Even on Sunday.”
The headlights from a dark colored car at the stop sign up the block caught Tyrell’s attention. “Watch this car comin’ down,” he warned. “Niggas ain’t gon’ catch me slippin’.” He pulled his gun off his waistline and cocked it.
Mox took a few steps back, between two parked cars, and watched as the vehicle cruised down the street. It seemed to slow up once it reached Tyrell, but then it kept cruising by.
“Them niggas come back around this block, they gon’ get it.”
Mox looked down at the gun in Tyrell’s hand. “You can’t get money and be out here on some gun ho shit… it ain’t gon’ work.”
“It’s been workin’.”
“How long you think that’s gon’ last? Not long at all. A few more months and you’ll either be dead, or locked away for the rest of your life.”
“Mox, I ain’t tryna hear this shit right now. I’m out here. Any nigga disrespect me or mines, and they gettin’ it. Straight like that. I ain’t got time to be playin’ wit’ these niggas.”
“And that’s exactly what I’m tryna tell your hard headed ass. You wastin’ your time out here, you could be livin’ like a king if you wanted to.”
“I’m already livin’ like a king,” Tyrell flashed the Oyster Perpetual Rolex on his wrist. “This ain’t no regular nigga shit. Grown men can’t even afford the kind of shit I be rockin’.”
Mox chuckled. He had no choice but to respect the youngster. He was holding his own. “I see you, and I also see you ain’t gon’ change your mind, but that’s cool.”
“It ain’t broke, Mox. You know as well as I do, If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
Mox agreed. “You right.” He gave Tyrell a pound and he and Travis walked to the truck.
“What that lil’ nigga talkin’ about?” Travis asked.
Mox started the car and pulled off. “He doin’ his own thing. I respect it though. I can’t be mad at the lil’ nigga. He getting’ a lil’ money so he feelin’ good… fuck him.”
________
The next morning, Mox and Travis met up with Juan Carlos in the Bronx so they could handle their business. As instructed, the Porsche truck with $160,000 in it was left parked in front of an auto repair shop on Jerome Avenue. After that, he and Travis took a cab across town to pick up the mini-van with the drugs. Soon after, they were back on the highway headed south to Richmond Virginia.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
While Mox ventured off to New York to attend to his personal and business issues, Priscilla stayed in Richmond. She had a strong gut feeling that Mox was doing more than what he told her, but she didn’t have the right evidence to make an accusation. The only thing she knew was that he took these trips every so often to meet up with Juan Carlos. Anything that happened after that, she was oblivious to.
But Priscilla was far from an angel herself. She had secrets too. Once again, she had relapsed and she was back to sniffing cocaine on a regular basis. It was gradually taking its toll on her—eating away at her brain and causing her to make bad decisions. Her vision became shaded and no longer did she worry about how she would get Brandi back. Her only concerns were money and drugs.
For the past few weeks, Priscilla and Quiane had been seeing each other more than often. She started catching feelings for him—something she vowed not to do. She also understood that the consequences of her actions could be deadly.
When she was with Quiane, she was happy. She felt wanted and appreciated, loved and connected; desired.
Quiane was smart, handsome, and to top it off, he had a lot of money—lots of money. His nickname on the streets was, The Million Dollar Man, and some say that was just being modest.
Born and raised in New York, Quiane was the youngest of his brothers. His mother was a retired school teacher who devoted herself to church, and his father had just come home from a twenty year bid in the Feds for drug trafficking.
Quiane was introduced to drugs as a child, and ever since then, it’s the only living he’s made. Everything he ever got and anything he has now, came from drug money.
He owned a $300,000 five bedroom mini mansion that he had built from ground up on three acres of land in Highland Springs. It contained all the amenities of the most lavish homes in the area. An indoor/outdoor swimming pool, a professional sized tennis court, a gymnasium that housed a basketball court, and a 17 hole mid-sized golf course. It was a drug lord’s lair—the king’s castle.
Priscilla relaxed in the Jacuzzi with her hair tied up in a bun, wearing a one piece Christian Dior bathing suit. She popped a strawberry in her mouth and took a sip of her mimosa as she smiled, watching Rhianna’s music video on the flat screen television mounted to the wall.
She felt the presence of someone else in the room and she immediately turned to see who was there.
“Gotcha!” Quiane shouted, popping out from behind the door. He was holding a bouquet of pink and white roses in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other.
Priscilla almost jumped out of her skin. “Boyyy… don’t be scaring me like that. What’s wrong with you?”
Quiane laughed. “I’m sorry. You looked a lil’ bored in here, I was tryna liven you up.”
“Liven me up with some of that,” she replied, pointing at his dick.
Quiane bent down, kissed her lips, and handed her the roses. “If I didn’t have this business to take care of, I would have no problem doing that. But wait until later… I’ma come back and wear that ass out.”
“I’m not gonna be here later.”
“Why not, where you goin’?”
“Quiane, it’s Saturday. I’m pretty sure my man is back at home. I don’t want any problems and I do not wanna hear his mouth.”
“Oh, that nigga. Fuck that nigga.” Quiane didn’t like Mox one bit. He barely knew anything about him, but the fact that Mox had something he desired was enough. “Tell him you was with me and see what he say.”
“Yeah, right.” Priscilla stepped out of the Jacuzzi, snatched a towel off the rack, and started drying off. “You tryna start trouble.”
“That’s something I’m good at,” he said. “Oh, I forgot… you don’t want your little boyfriend to get hurt.”
“Fuck you, Quiane.”
He laughed. “I must have struck a nerve, I’m sorry.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Bend over.”
“Grow up, okay. You’re fuckin’ forty years old and yet you still act like a child. “
“I’m acting like a child, but you’re the one keeping secrets from your man. You might as well tell him. Sooner or later he’s gonna find out. I jus’ hope he can accept it.”
“Accept what?” Priscilla questioned.
“Accept the fact that I have his bitch now.”
“Bitch?” She rolled her eyes. “Ain’t nobody’s bitch here, you better go find one of them hoodrats. You got me confused, boo boo.”
“So, why haven’t you told him?”
“Because he doesn’t need to know.” She shot back.
“How about I tell him? I would love to see his reaction.” Quiane reached for Priscilla’s arm, but she pulled away and started walking out the bathroom.
“You know… sometimes you say the lamest shit,” she mumbled.
“What you say?” Quiane caught up to her.
“You heard me.”
Slap! His right palm met the side of her face. She grabbed her cheek in shock; surprised that Quiane had put his hands on her.
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth when you talk to me.”
Priscilla stood there in a stupor—speechless and unsure of how to react. A tear slid down from the corner of her eye, but she wiped it away before it reached her cheek. Her thoughts were scrambled and she was confused. She believed Quiane was different, but she’d been proven wrong; he was just like the rest of them.
________
“Priscilla! Priscilla you here?” Mox yelled as he stepped through the front door. The house was quiet and didn’t smell of food, so he knew she wasn’t cooking. “Priscilla!”
“Yes! I’m upstairs!” she answered. She took her time coming downstairs because she had a pounding headache from the slap that Quiane had given her earlier. She even missed the bruise on her face when she checked herself in the mirror, but Mox caught it.
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