G-Spot (10 page)

Chapter Thirteen

I
got on that airplane mad as hell. Steam was rolling off me and I had enough fuel running through my blood to fly that bad boy all the way to Hawaii and back.

G had pulled some low-down shit.

I should have known he was scheming like a demon. He’d been too damn nice. Had let me off the hook too easily for staying out while he was gone. Now I knew why. I had just finished packing last night when I called Jimmy in my room to sit on my suitcase so I could zip it up.

“Your gear ready?” I asked him. “You got enough medication for the whole trip?”

He couldn’t even look me in my face. “I ain’t going.”

“What?” I got up off my knees. “What you mean you ain’t going?

Jimmy mumbled something under his breath and shrugged. “I ain’t going.”

I broke. “Uh-uh, Jimmy. Hell fuckin no. Ain’t no way in hell I’m leaving you here for no ten days while I go way across the world to some damn island. How the fuck you sound, you ain’t going?”

“How the fuck I said it, Juicy? I ain’t going. You got any beef, see G.”

And that’s exactly what I did, too.

“G!” I bust into the bathroom while he was sitting on the toilet. “What’s Jimmy talking about he ain’t coming with us in the morning?”

That nigger pissed me off. He looked at me for a long moment, then spun the toilet tissue on the holder and bunched a wad of it up in his hand. I was tapping my foot and smelling his shit as I waited for him to answer. He took his time wiping his black ass, inspecting the tissue, then tossing it behind him into the bowl.

“Look,” he said finally. “I’m taking my son on vacation. He graduated from college and he deserves it. But Jimmy gotta stay here. I got some work I need him to do.”

Now my hand was on my hip. “G. You know Jimmy ain’t right. He can’t stay here for ten days all alone. That’s my brother, and somebody has to watch him so I guess I’ll be staying home, too.”

“Kill all that noise, Juicy. You making my ass hurt. I’m putting Jimmy down on a little job. He’ll be all right here. Pacho’s gonna sleep up here at night and Moonie can watch him while we gone.”

I just couldn’t resist it. “Yeah, just like he watched me, huh?”

A vein jumped on the side of G’s head. “You getting brand-new, Juicy. Brand-new. Don’t push your luck, baby girl, cause my patience is getting thin.”

I opened my mouth to talk some more shit, then closed it back. Damn. Motherfucker. This wasn’t fair. I didn’t feel good about going all the way to some damn Hawaii without Jimmy. This was some foul shit, and I made sure the look on my face told G just what I was thinking. Yeah, he could force me to go with him, but he couldn’t make me have a good time. I wasn’t gonna talk to his ass for ten whole days. Or to his stupid-ass son, neither. Dumb-ass niggah got a college degree just to come slanging and slumming up in Harlem. Fuck both of them.

I was so mad I slept mad. Our flight was leaving at eight
A.M.
, and Pacho came to the door to take our bags down at five. I went into Jimmy’s room and sat down on the bed next to him. “Jimmy.” I shook his shoulder. “Wake up and tell me bye, Jimmy.”

He rolled over on his back. “Bye, Juicy. Go have fun. Bring me back an island girl with some big titties, okay?”

I punched him on the arm. “Boy, you just too stupid. All them big titty bitches in the Spot and you need me to bring one way from Hawaii?” He had me laughing and I felt a little bit better about leaving him. “For real though. You gonna be straight while I’m gone?”

“Damn, girl. You act like I’m a baby or something. It ain’t but ten days.”

I nodded. “I know. But that’s a long time.” I stared into his eyes to see could I catch him in a lie. “What kinda job G gonna have you doing while we gone?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged and looked toward the open door. “But I think I’ma be supervising some of the workers, or keeping books or something.”

Yeah. I knew it was more than that, but without any proof there was only so much I could bitch. “aiight, then. Be careful, Jimmy. There’s some slimy motherfuckers out there.”

He laughed. “I ain’t worrying about nobody, Juicy. I’m down with G, and ain’t a nigger out there stupid enough to violate that.”

I kissed my brother on his cheek, then threw my arms around his neck. “Still. Be careful, Jimmy.”

He hugged me back. “You too.”

W
e were in the back of the limo about to pull off when Moonie rolled up.

“Hold up,” G told Pacho. “Lemme handle something.”

He pushed the button to roll up the car window, then got out and slammed the door. I was sitting across from Gino, and even though I felt bad about leaving Jimmy, I couldn’t help notice how good Gino looked. He was listening to a CD through his Walkman, and the look on his face told it all. He didn’t want none of this shit either. He felt me studying him and looked over at me like I was a booger on somebody’s fucking nose. “You got a problem?” I said.

“Yeah. You got one?”

I just crossed my legs and rolled my eyes. G finished handling his business and got back in the car. I looked out the window as we pulled away and locked eyes with Moonie. His face looked hard as hell, and before I could break my eyes away from him he nodded and turned away. I knew he was mad about me bringing G down on him and I prayed he wouldn’t take it out on Jimmy.

Hawaii was far! It took us six hours to fly to California, and after a three-hour layover we still had another five and a half to go. It was my first time flying and I was scared as hell. Gino tried to be nice when he saw how nervous I was. He told me he’d flown from coast to coast more times than he could remember and gave me some line about how flying was much safer than driving. I didn’t believe that mess for a minute, but I was glad he at least tried to make me feel better about being way up in the air without no parachute.

G didn’t even try to comfort me. He practically ignored me during the whole flight.
As usual, we had stepped out in style. We were in the first-class cabin where they kept calling us ma’am and sir and we were chilling in some phat leather seats that were so wide and soft they felt like a bed. Still, G kept shifting and moving around, complaining that he wasn’t comfortable. He spent most of his time talking and kicking it with his son, and I was glad they were having a good time because it kept him from fucking with me.

Gino was on the end, G was in the middle, and I was in the window seat. I asked the stewardess for a blanket and wrapped myself up in it and kept praying the damn pilot knew what the hell he was doing. I had stopped at the airport bookstore and picked up a big bag of pistachio nuts and copy of
Skyscraper
by some chick called Zane, and I gobbled that book up in five hours flat. The story was so good I forgot all about being up in the air.
All that fucking they had going on got my juices flowing and I waited until G and Gino shut up and fell asleep, and then I crossed my thighs and, fingering my nipples under the blanket, I got off right there in my seat and wasn’t worrying about crashing to the ground at all.

I fell asleep during the last few hours of the second flight and the next thing I knew the stewardess was waking me up so I could raise my seat up and put on my seat belt. I pushed up the window shade and looked down at the bright lights. G said we were going to the island of Oahu, and this was the city of Honolulu.
Except for the mountains that I could just barely see off in the distance, the bright lights kinda reminded me of New York, and even though we hadn’t even started our vacation, thoughts of the city made me miss my baby brother.

As soon as we got off the plane and walked down to the terminal there was a limo driver waiting. He was holding up a sign that read Purpose Driven, Inc., which was the name of one of G’s front companies. I felt like I was in a foreign damn country or somewhere down in Chinatown. There was Japanese writing on all the signs and so many Oriental people it wasn’t funny.

Honolulu didn’t look nothing like New York from the ground. Yeah, the crowds were out there and the traffic was mad, but it was clean and smelled good and I rolled down the window in the limo and sucked up the saltwater smell all the way to the hotel.

G had booked two penthouse suites at the Kahala Mandarin Oriental Hotel, and if I thought our apartment was large, it didn’t have shit on the Kahala. I knew all this had to be costing G some mad yardage, but I also knew he could afford it. Our suites had connecting doors and there was a king-sized bed, a dining area, and a separate spare bedroom in each one. By now I was used to quality stuff. G had exposed me to the best that money could buy and he didn’t believe in skimping.
After borrowing Gino’s cell phone and leaving a message at the apartment for Jimmy so he’d know we’d landed safe, I checked everything in the room out thoroughly and decided it was up to standard.

We were all travel-tired and G was getting cranky. We ordered a bunch of food from room service, but by the time they brought it up G was shivering and sweating like he was running a fever.

“Let me run you a shower,” I told him, trying to get back on his good side. If I was gonna be here for ten damn days I didn’t want there to be no unnecessary tension. I started the shower for him, and while he was in there I took his silk pajama bottoms out his suitcase and laid them on the bed and put his slippers on the floor beside the tub.

Me and Gino both picked over our food until G got out the shower, and then Gino left to go to his room and I stripped out of my clothes and got into the shower myself. I was tired as hell, even though it was still early in Honolulu, because of the time difference.
A few minutes later I was washed and oiled and had my hair tied down with my favorite silk scarf. I brushed my teeth and said a prayer for my baby brother, then climbed my ass in the bed next to G and crashed.

Chapter Fourteen

G
had a boil. Right in the crack of his ass.

It was our first morning in Hawaii and I was ready to get out and see me some sights. Instead G had called me into the bathroom and showed me his split.

The hotel was even grander in the daylight, but there was no way I wanted to be cooped up in it. G had arranged a three-day private tour of the island for us and I was ready to hit it. The hotel clock had said 8:12
A.M
. when Gino knocked on the door and asked if anybody wanted breakfast. G was still sleeping, after tossing and turning most of the night, so we went ahead and ordered some French toast, turkey sausage, and scrambled eggs and told them to bring it up to Gino’s suite. The food came pretty fast so I slipped on a robe and went next door to eat so we wouldn’t disturb G.

Gino was sitting on his bed dressed in a pair of Joe Boxer pajama pants. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and the hair on his chest was thick, black, and very curly.

“Hold up,” he told me when I walked in. He snatched a shirt from a bag by the bed and put it on real quick, covering all those muscles he was packing. I really dug his complexion. It was milk chocolate like G’s but more creamy. His hair was jet black and even his moustache was curly.

“Hawaii is pretty,” I said, looking out the window. He had opened his curtains and the window and balcony covered one whole wall.

“Looks like it.”

I didn’t really know what to say to him. Even though he wasn’t all that much older than me, we lived in worlds that were miles apart. I had no respect for him coming back to Harlem to roll with fleas, and the first time he ever laid eyes on me his father had had me up against a wall, busting my ass. Our first impressions had been ill.

The food smelled so good! I liked the way Gino uncovered my food and then pulled out my chair, then passed me a cloth napkin. I watched him on the sly as I shook the napkin out and laid it in my lap. He opened my evian and poured it into a glass of ice, then asked me if I wanted him to say the grace.

Grace? Shit, I hadn’t heard or said grace since Grandmother died. It was nice, though, to hear it again. I figured it was his mother or whoever had raised him that had taught him his home-training, because G damn sure didn’t say nobody’s grace!

I had poured coconut syrup over everything on my plate and me and Gino were chowing down and laughing at a Hawaiian cartoon when G bust through the connecting door and ordered me into our bathroom to look up his ass.

“What it look like, Juicy?” he asked, bending over with his black ass all up in my face. He’d been burning up with a fever all night and I could still smell it on him.

“Nasty,” I said. “It looks real nasty, G. It’s fat and has a pink head on it with some white stuff at the tip. Want me to try to squeeze it out?”

He jumped his ass back. “Girl, you crazy,” he said letting his cheeks go and hobbling away. He could barely close his legs good enough to walk and I felt real sorry for him. Grandmother used to get them nasty-looking boils in her armpits all the time so I knew they hurt like hell.

“You need to put a hot washcloth on it, G. Draw it out with some Black Salve or some Boil ease. Want me to call down to the desk and get you some Tylenol or something?”

He was running water in the tub. “No. Call down and tell them to bring me up a bottle of Courvousier and some ice.” He climbed into the tub and eased himself down in the hot water. I’d never seen him look like this. Sweat ran down the sides of his face and his lips were dry and chapped.

“Don’t you wanna eat some breakfast first?”

“No. I want some Yak.”

Yak it was. I called room service and told them to bring my man a liquid breakfast. “So what about the tour today?”

G waved his hand. “Y’all go. I got some calls to make, then I’ma sit right here and soak my ass all day.”

I eyed the tub. “We’re getting picked up at nine, right? If I don’t get a shower real quick I’ll miss the ride.”

“Damn, Juicy! Figure shit out, girl! Go across the way and take a goddamn shower! Gino ain’t gonna bite you, and as much as I laid out for the tour them motherfuckers bet’not leave you neither!”

I got out his way. He was sick and mean and I knew it wouldn’t be long before he was drunk, too. I’d only seen G get tight a couple of times, but I remember how ugly liquor made him.

Gino was already dressed when he opened the door for me.

“Your father is in the bathtub,” I said, standing there holding all my shower shit. “Can I use your shower?”

He stepped aside to let me in, but didn’t say anything. I went into his bathroom and closed the door. He was just like his daddy.
A neat freak. I could tell he had just had a shower because the mirrors were still all fogged up from steam. His razor, toothbrush, and a diamond ring were sitting next to the sink, and the towel he had used was folded up on a little stand near the door.

My mind was going in ten different directions as I stood under that hot water. It was real hot and hard, just the way I liked it. I felt all funny inside but I didn’t know why. Yeah, I was excited about seeing someplace new, and yeah, I felt sorry for G with that fat boil on his ass, but there was something else rumbling through me, too.

The Kahala was a top-quality hotel and the shower proved it. The water hit my skin like little fingers, massaging my muscles and my neck. I poured creamy shower gel all over my washcloth then stroked myself from head to toe, letting the suds glide over my skin as the scent filled the bathroom.

An image of Gino and that curly hair on his chest jumped into my mind, and I squeezed suds over my breasts then teased my nipples, pretending it was him who was touching me. Now my hands were everywhere. Down my stomach, between my legs, gripping my own ass, and then finally two fingers found my clit and slid deeply into my wet pussy.

I fingered myself deeply as the water beat down on me and the bubbles swirled over my body. My juices were so thick and hot I almost fainted as my hand moved faster and faster, stroking my clit and rubbing my slick insides, pretending my hand was Gino’s dick. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth as I came, my whole body shaking, my ass pressed against the shower wall, and the feel of Gino’s body playing with my mind.

I calmed down under the water and washed my hair, then soaped my skin again and let the hot water wash me clean. I wrapped a towel around my head and another one around my body before putting my robe back on. I made sure my shit was tight before opening the door, but when I went out there Gino wasn’t even in the room. I felt a little disappointed as I slammed the door that connected our rooms and went to get dressed.

G was done with his soak and was laying in the bed with his knees up and a pillow underneath his ass. He didn’t look nothing like the bad-ass King of Harlem who ruled niggers with just a glance. I turned my back and lotioned my body, then put on one of my new bikinis under my clothes, a pair of red denim Chanel shorts and a matching red and white cotton shirt. I had bought a pair of red Reebok flip-flops from 125th Street, so after rubbing some oil in my hair and pulling it back in a ponytail, I grabbed my shades and a beach towel and I was set.

“Bye, G,” I said, leaning over to give him a hug.

“Uh-huh.” He brushed his hand across my back twice then pushed me away. “Gone now.”

“I hope you feel better.”

“Yeah. Gone.”

I closed the door and jetted.

A
s soon as I got a glimpse of Gino, G’s whole asshole could have fallen out for all I cared. Gino was waiting for me downstairs at the desk. The hotel lobby was busy with people running back and forth in all directions. Tourist central. Gino looked damn good.
A baby blue Roc-a-Wear shirt and a pair of denim shorts that showed his muscular, slightly bowed legs. Fresh kicks, a diamond ring, smooth dark skin, and a Colgate smile. He was all that.

“Yo,” he said, checking out my red shorts. “The driver is outside, so let’s hustle.”

A young Hawaiian guy who was almost as brown as me was waiting next to a white showroom-fresh Infinity SUV. His hair was straight and he had on a bright dolphin shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.

“Aloha!” He had a lei made of fresh flowers in his hands and I bent my head and let him slip it around my neck. Dude’s name was Justin and he had been in Hawaii all his life. He told us he’d never even been to what he called the mainland and tried to talk us to death asking questions about New York. Finally he got behind the wheel and me and Gino settled into the back of the SUV as Justin took off driving toward Waikiki Beach, pointing out tourist sights to us the whole time. We saw houses that belonged to movie stars and professional basketball players, all the latest cars, and beaches along what had to be the bluest water in the world.

I wasn’t a swimmer, and the only beaches I had ever been on were Coney Island and Jones, but even so I could tell how special the beach at Waikiki was. We had a lot of stuff to see so we didn’t have time to stay and swim, but I did get out and take off my flip-flops and walk around and feel the sand between my toes. The beach was packed with bodies colored bronze by the sun. People were fishing and surfing and playing volleyball left and right, and little kids was running around kicking sand and splashing in the ocean. I went right down to the edge of the water and put my feet in and I was really surprised to see how warm it was.

Gino got out of the car, too, and I guess when he saw me start walking in one direction, he headed the opposite way. There was definitely a charge running back and forth between us. I wasn’t gonna be the first to acknowledge it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. I knew when a man was feeling me. I busted those sly looks at my ass and thighs when he thought I wasn’t looking, because I was checking him out the same way. When I got back to the SUV I leaned against the bumper and tried to brush the sand off my feet while watching him walk back toward the car. He was even taller than G, I realized. Taller and finer.

“All this beautiful weather,” I commented, fucking with him. “and you didn’t even take off your shirt, let alone your sneaks,” I said as he climbed back in the Infinity. “Don’t be so uptight. Can’t feel the Hawaiian sand through your shoes.”

“Who said I’m uptight? Maybe I’m just principled. Not everybody believes in coming out their clothes just like that.”

Boy had it twisted. He must have thought I was some stripper G had dragged in off the stage. I got in the back and put on my seat belt. “Seems to me you’d be down for that type of action, running back home to work at the Spot and all.”

He stared at me. “Let’s go ahead and get this straight real quick. I don’t know you, and you don’t know shit about me. Whatever your thing is with G, I’m sure it’s either slimy or grimy—which is cool, ’cause it ain’t none of my business. But I didn’t come back to New York because I wanna be at the G-Spot, Juicy. Just because that’s how you get down, don’t put it on me.”

Justin interrupted. “Next stop, the windward coast! In less than an hour we’ll be nearing Chinaman’s Hat, and after that it’s taking pictures at the world’s most beautiful lagoon!”

Both of us igged him so hard it wasn’t funny.

“I’m not a stripper, Gino. I’m not a ho either. I don’t work the stage or the rooms, so don’t make no assumptions about how I get down.”

He smirked at me like I was lying.

“For real. G takes care of me, that’s true. But I don’t get down like you think. I’m in college, for your information. I’m a fashion designer and I’m studying for a business degree.”

“Well maybe you’re smarter than you look then. G put me through school, too, and that’s why I came back. Since he paid for my piece of paper he figures I owe him, and helping him open another Spot is how he wants to be repaid.”

I frowned. “another Spot? Get the fuck out of here.”

“Yep.” Gino nodded, looking out the window. “In Baltimore. He’s already got Jersey locked in, even without a Spot. So now G wants to train a few loyals to slide down to Baltimore and expand his operation.”

“Damn,” I muttered. “Like father, like son.”

“What you mean? I’m my own man. As soon as G opens in B-More, I’m out. It’s back to the West Coast for me. I’m an architect, sugar. I’m about building my people up, not about having my sisters selling their ass to buy dope.”

“So why are you even helping him then? When you lay down with dogs, you get up with fleas. If you’re all about being positive, then why are you here?”

“Why the hell are you here, Juicy? G’s my father, but what’s your goddamn excuse? So what he kicks out the bank. He does that for all his hoes. Yeah, you’re probably the first one he let go to college, but that doesn’t mean you’re smart. Smart would be getting out there and doing you for a living instead of letting a playa like G control you until he takes over your whole life.”

I shook my head. “I’m my own woman, too,” I lied, making shit up as I went along. “G doesn’t own me.
After I graduate, I’m outta here. I’m taking my little brother and going someplace where I can design a clothing line and Jimmy can get a decent job and maybe we can buy us a little house. I’m not down for the game either.”

He looked at me real hard. “Okay, Juicy. You ain’t gotta prove nothing to me. I’m not here to make no waves. I’m just a temporary fixture. Give me six months, and I’m out.”

F
or the next three days Gino and I toured the island together. G’s boil wouldn’t come to a head no matter how much he soaked in the tub, and I couldn’t convince him to let me squeeze it either. It was red and pus-filled and still hurt him like hell. He stayed in bed ordering room service and running things in Harlem from his cell phone, while Gino and I worked Justin overtime by combing every inch of the island.

Being up under Gino had my pussy on fire. He was so damn smart and sexy I masturbated every chance I got, which was mostly at night in the shower. We hung out 24/7 doing things I’d never even imagined myself doing. Didn’t even know I had the heart to do. We swam and snorkeled at eighty-leven beaches and I even surprised myself by climbing on the back of a Jet Ski and letting Gino take me so far out on the ocean I was scared we’d run out of gas.