She picked it up. THE QUEEN’S KNIGHT was inscribed inside. She slid it onto his ring finger. “So now are we married?” She stared into his loving eyes.
Knight smiled. His big, white teeth contrasted against his full, dark lips. Now, she stared, trance like, at his mouth.
“We’re married as far as I’m concerned,” Knight said, “but here’s what I propose.”
The perfectly curious and attentive expression on The Queen’s face gave no hint of the tornado of thoughts ripping through her brain. Marriage means I’m here to stay. Forever. And I’m only nineteen!
But did Alice want to stay in Ghettoland, even as The Queen of Hearts, forever? Did she ever want to pop a “back to white” pill and return to her previous life? Was it possible to take the chocolate out of the milk once it had been stirred up, sipped, and savored?
Hell no! The Queen loved every taste, every sip, and every decadent sensation of her life as it was right then. With this gorgeous Mandingo warrior who was pledging the tenderest love forever.
Gone was the naïve, innocent little white girl that arrived at Babylon a year ago. The second she lost her virginity to Duke and got her first real taste of sex, she was turned out, and ready to be the femme fatale she was born to be.
Now, she couldn’t imagine life without the mind blowing sex, love, power, and adventure that she enjoyed here every day as The Queen. Hidden far away from the feds who were looking for her after crucifying her daddy. She was now the baddest bitch in Babylon, helping Knight grow it bigger and better every day. Her eyes sparkled at him as he described his plan for their wedding and future.
“First,” he said, “we get married on the sexiest day in Babylon. The day of The Games.”
“Love it!” The Queen exclaimed. “That’s in a month!”
“Four weeks from tonight,” Knight said. “First we have a wedding ceremony on the rooftop terrace at The Playhouse. All our guests will be under a white tent overlooking the river, and we’ll have a reception on the patio.”
The Queen nodded. “Everybody will already be in town for The Games.”
“You got it, Tinkerbell. And The Games will actually be our reception, but even more of a celebration because everybody’ll be watching the competition. Then we take a boat ride away to paradise and it’s all over.”
The Queen’s face drooped into a sad expression. “Love it,” she whispered.
“You don’t sound like it,” Knight said, tapping a fingertip under her chin to raise her face. “Tinkerbell looks like she lost her pixie dust.”
“My parents are dead,” she said, her insides aching that they would not see her on the day that she dreamed about as a little girl.
Knight sat on the bed and scooped her onto his lap. Shane pressed against her hip. And the heat of his lap against the bottom of her thighs, along with the firm warmth of his chest against her left arm, inspired her to nestle her cheek into his solar plexus and close her eyes.
“Your parents are watching,” Knight said, his deep voice vibrating through her ear down to her soul. “This is all predestined baby girl. Everything that’s happened to you was fate’s purpose. To bring you to me. And help us do great things together.”
She smiled and said in a sultry tone, “To help folks get their freak on.”
“To build our empire and secure our future,” he said. “I couldn’t do it without your brilliant business mind, Miss Female Marketing Genius. Them chicks tonight, boy, they looked like they were in Nirvana and never wanted to leave.”
The Queen smiled. “Daddy always said, ‘Get rich in a niche. Figure out what nobody’s doing, and do it as bold and beautifully as you can.’ And nobody was providing dick to the professional ladies.”
Knight’s deep laughter boomed into her ear. “We’ll see if that TV anchor Trina Michaels can keep this little secret to herself after the sexcapade she had the other day.” The Queen stiffened. “She made a joke about doing a report about our product. I let her know that shit was not welcome at all.”
“Not if she knows what’s good for her,” Knight said half smiling. As The Queen heard the tone in his voice, and felt a strange surge in her body and something deep down in her gut cramped.
All of a sudden she felt an uncertainty of the unknown. Knight was ruthless. One wrong move on her part and she could find herself in exile from Babylon, just like how it went down with Duke. Till this day she still didn’t even know if Duke were still alive. And suddenly, Knight’s words echoed back into her thoughts. “You said a boat ride away and it’s all over. What do you mean by that?”
“The wedding day,” Knight said. “Life as we knew it before marriage is all over. And we start our new life on our honeymoon.”
The Queen pulled her cheek away. It felt cold as she turned and stared up into his eyes, probing for more information. Something about the way he’d said “all over” made her gut cramp.
He’s hiding something, Celeste said.
The Queen had learned, since Knight was so slick, that questioning him about something was pointless. He was master of the art of deception and evasion. She would have to investigate in more cunning ways. She kissed his cheek. “I want a tropical island honeymoon. So I can lay on the beach with my bare ass pointing up at the sun.”
Knight ran a giant hand over her hair, smoothing it down from the crown of her head to her shoulders and back. “I’ll find us a remote house on an obscure island. After the wedding, we can sail down Lake Erie to the Erie Canal to the Atlantic and down to the island of your choice.”
The Queen caressed the beautiful black skin on his bald head. “Someday I’m gonna climb up into your brilliant mind so I can sit down and look around. I need to see what a bionic brain looks like on the inside.”
Suddenly Shane hardened and poked into her hip.
She wrapped her fingers around all that lead pipe, watching her ring glisten brightly against the huge black dick snaking over her thigh. “I’ll take a bionic blast from that, too.”
“Baby girl, be honest,” he whispered. “Do you have any desire, even an ounce, to fuck another man? And do you have any yearning to return to the white world you left behind?”
“Hell no to both.”
Knight stared hard into her eyes, as if invisible hooks were shooting into her brain to pry out the truth. “You’ve made love with two men in your life,” he said. “Me for a year, and Duke for five days before that, is that it?”
The Queen stiffened. “Why would I want to sample chicken nuggets when I get to savor the juiciest lobster in the sea all day, every day?”
Knight tossed back his head. Deep laughter echoed off the shimmery turquoise and beige Egyptian design that was hand painted on the leather ceiling. “That, baby girl, is exactly how I feel about you; this man don’t ever need any pussy other than the sweet, creamy meat right here.” His brows drew together. “I haven’t heard you say yes.”
The Queen’s pussy throbbed. She said with a sassy, sexy tone, “Celeste wants to whisper it to you.”
In one graceful movement, Knight grasped The Queen at the sides of her waist, tossed her into the air as he stood up, and caught her by cupping his open palms under her thighs. He pressed his open mouth and extended his tongue, between her legs.
“Whew!” The Queen shrieked playfully.
His tongue fucked her with lightning speed, while his upper lip pressed into her clit with expert precision.
“Oh my God!” The Queen moaned. Her fingertips gripped the back of Knight’s smooth, bald head.
He moved his palms to cup right under her butt.
“Yeah, squeeze my ass like that,” she said, grinding her hips to intensify the pressure of his lip on her clit. “Can you hear Celeste screaming the answer?”
Knight groaned deeply.
The Queen’s whole body trembled as she was about to cum. She tossed back her head, letting her long black hair tickle down her back.
Knight gripped her harder, digging his fingers into the f
lesh of her ass.
“I’m yours!” The Queen moaned as her heels dug into his back, her fingertips gripped his head, and her pussy pulsated around his tongue.
In a flash, she was falling. Down, down, down. Was he dropping her? Had he been pale earlier because he’s sick? Was he fainting and losing his grip? Was her pussy suffocating him? Or sucking the life out of him?
No, God please don’t let my mixed-race woman sex powers kill Knight like they killed Mommy.
Her eyes flew open. She stared into Knight’s lust widened gaze.
That mischievous smile curling up the corners of his beautiful lips let her know, everything was okay.
The Queen’s pussy landed on Knight’s huge, hard, dick.
He tossed back his head, busting out a laugh. “I scared you!” he teased.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders. She gripped her knees around him and bounced up and down. She was fucking the shit out of that big dick.
“Damn, baby girl,” he moaned. “Fuck that shit.” He cupped the round curves of her ass, from the sides, and helped her slam that pussy down on it.
Her pussy was extra wet right now. Sex felt so much better when you did it raw. Knight didn’t like using condoms and a few months ago, she’d stopped taking the pill, because Knight had said that a love as powerful as theirs, should create new lives to carry on their legacy and their DNA.
Panting, sweating, trembling, screaming, The Queen slipped into an erotic zone.
“Make love to me, Tinkerbell. Make love to me!” Knight’s deep voice boomed so loud, the boat rocked.
“Now,” The Queen whispered, “cum with me.”
She pumped harder. Shivers wracked her every cell.
“This pussy mine for life,” Knight panted. “This baby girl mine for life.” He stared into her eyes and whispered, “My wife.” Their mouths smashed together as Knight squirted up into the core of his Queen, to baptize their union forever.
Chapter 63
Knight had to make his heart stop pounding, and his chest stop squeezing, as he obsessed over that “kill-or-be-killed” moment five hours ago. Even though he’d chosen the first option, the thought of killing his baby brother made his heart ache. Here in bed, he hadn’t slept a wink.
Li’l Tut might be dead right now. And I pulled the trigger. Twice. But if he’s alive, and he survives that fall into the river, and recuperates, he’ll be back with a vengeance.
But if Knight had hesitated, he wouldn’t have been laying here watching his Queen sleep more peacefully than an angel. He cherished the sensations of the plush sheets, the warmth of her body, and the gentle rocking of the yacht. It was silent except for the lapping water and his heartbeat.
She could see that I didn’t feel well. It scared the shit out of her.
No, his job was to make sure the future Mrs. Johnson never worried another day in life. He didn’t have to tell her that after their wedding they’d be leaving Babylon, Detroit, and the United States forever. Stuff was just too crazy around here. For both, it was in their best interests to start a new life together in an exotic place, with a fortune in the bank.
Knight’s fingertip traced the dark arc of her eyebrow. Her sun tanned skin was so clear and smooth, as fresh as a baby’s. What if he’d planted a seed in her tonight?
Intuition said, Your child is growing inside her right now. A human being created from the kind of soul-deep love that you never saw between your parents or anybody else.
Knight’s chest ached. If he felt this strongly about protecting his beautiful angel Queen from the evils of the world, how would he feel about his own child? That only emphasized the importance and brilliance of starting over, far away. It wasn’t even a choice.
Knight was twenty-five and had no children yet. His mother had been asking him to give her grandkids for years.
And what about Mama? They could take her with them. She couldn’t live without any of her baby boys. First, Prince got shot to death. Then Knight went to jail. Then Knight came back, but Li’l Tut disappeared. No more disappearing acts for Mama. After all that struggling by herself to raise her kids in the hood, it was time for her to relax and enjoy life too. Plus, when everything went down, the feds would come to her too. But not if she were playing nanny on a sun splashed island with Knight’s first baby.
Knight’s chest squeezed. He struggled to suck down air.
All of them had to get away. Too many question marks kept popping up here. The top among them, Is Li’l Tut alive?
Knight knew he’d shot Li’l Tut because he saw the red stain on his baby brother’s white T-shirt before he fell backward into the Detroit River. The Barriors had searched the marina and surrounding areas of the river but found nothing. But the current could have carried his body down river toward Toledo, or into Lake St. Clair. A freighter or fishing boat could drag him somewhere. Or he could wash up on the island park of Belle Isle, or across the river in Canada.
But what if Li’l Tut were alive? What if he fell into the water with only a graze wound, crawled up on land somewhere nearby, and made his way to someplace where he could recover?
Be for real, intuition said. You know damn well that boy was as whacked out on crack as he could be.
The dark circles under his eyes, sunken in cheeks, and dark splotches on his skin said it all. His shirt and pants were hanging off his skinny body like he was a fucking clothes hanger.
Knight massaged his chest over his heart. It had raced uncontrollably while they made love, especially when he tossed her up to eat her pussy. He had only half-planned the drop; he had actually gone weak and lost his grip. Panic shot through him now, as it had then.
What if I fall out and can’t protect her? What if I drop dead? Or what if she thinks that crazy curse shit is comin’ true and she rations out the pussy to me but gets some dick from another muthafucka?
“Stop!” he said out loud. He tried to remember all the visualization and meditation techniques he learned while he was locked up. “Stop,” he whispered. He closed his eyes to visualize himself free of any discomfort. But all he saw was Li’l Tut’s drug ravaged face. His heart raced even more intensely.
Perhaps what disturbed Knight most about that, was the eerie resemblance they shared. Seeing his mirror image whacked out on crack made him shudder because that’s what he would have become if he had taken that hit some fellas in the neighborhood offered when he caught that rape case. Wrongly accused; yes. Wrongly convicted; yes. But vilified in the media nonetheless.
But Knight was strong. He remembered one of the few words of wisdom their father had offered during his brief appearances during their early childhood, “A man’s character is defined by how he handles the bad times.”
That muthafucka’s character must’ve been defined as a certified loser, because he disappeared and left Mama to do a man’s job. Now Li’l Tut was following in his footsteps. Knight pressed his lips to The Queen’s forehead. Never would he hand this goddess back to the young punk who couldn’t appreciate her or treat her the way she deserved.
The same went for Babylon. Li’l Tut had been running the family empire into the ground when Knight came back. But ever since Knight had taken over, it had been nothing but prosperity and expansion.
Knight felt a sharp pain and gripped his chest.
He had to check his accounts online, to make sure that everything was in order for Manifest Destiny to happen on schedule. He slowly rose from the bed, trying to breathe away the pain, but every time he inhaled, the chest cramp squeezed more tightly.
Bending over as he walked, he slowly made it across the room to the dresser, turned on the laptop, and brought it back to bed. The clock on the upper right corner of the screen said 4:42 a.m.
His fingers clicked across the silver keyboard as the screen danced with numbers for his various over seas accounts. Accounts that in one month would have a balance of fifty million, which would secure his family’s future forever, far away from life in the b
ig city.
He clicked on to the high security Web site for his world class financial institution, which handled accounts for Greek shipping moguls, inner city thugs in hiding, and English royalty alike.
Knight’s Manifest Destiny accounts had been opened in the Bahamas under the name of Julius Mark Anthony. With several more secret passwords and a fictitious profile of a California real estate baron, Knight had set up the accounts with the help of a kinky Caucasian couple, Mr. and Mrs. Marx. The West coast couple whom he had met years ago, had helped him expand Babylon to the Pacific and were his mentors.
But their high-profile multimedia company, which made adult films and ran a soft-porn cable TV channel, was currently being investigated for tax evasion. And if the feds actually indicted the Marx’s, Knight worried that his accounts would be traced back to them and seized.
A lightning bolt of pain shot through his chest.
Somehow he would have to get these elaborate accounts switched once again to avoid all risks. He had worked so hard, sleeping only a few hours every night for the past year, to build Babylon to what it was now. So it wasn’t an option to leave it all behind without taking the financial fruit of his labor with him.
His brain spun over all the scenarios that could break wide open on his wedding night; the feds still searching for Victoria Winston; a raid; Moreno; Li’l Tut plotting a coup with board members and others.
Knight did a mental checklist of his offense and defense. The moat of fire that would create a wall of flames around The Playhouse while he and The Queen disappeared; rooftop snipers; the tunnel to the river; a motorcycle escape, if necessary, down to yacht #2.
He remembered a rule from The Prince Code, Think from the end. He had to envision every detail of those final minutes then plan accordingly, right now. But time was whizzing at the speed of light.
“Fuck,” he whispered. The clock on the upper right hand corner of his laptop screen said 5:55 a.m. He’d already spent more than an hour online and still hadn’t figured out a solution for protecting these accounts.
Sex in the Hood Saga Page 35