Rapture (5 page)

The sounds she made had me wondering how she could emit such noises, with a mouth full of weight, while simultaneously clucking her neck like the turkeys do as they move about.
So, now I see where your talents lie
, I thought to myself as I settled into the enjoyment of it all.  She was a master gobbler. The more she sucked and hummed along my trail, and massaged my sac, the stiffer my cock became.
Damn, she might not be able to fuck, but she can sure as shit give some fucking monster head
!

“
Yeahhh
,” I grunted, my heart rate increasing in speed. “
Aahhh
!” I grabbed her head to steady her in place, while sending my meat further into the depths of her mouth, as my nut made its debut with a rushing splash down her throat. When I was emptied out, I loosened my grip, and she emerged from down low, grinning slyly, and slid her tongue across her thin lips.

“Damn, baby. Why do they call you Rush? There’s not shit about you that’s rushed.”

“High school nickname,” I abruptly responded, already up and headed to her living room to grab my clothes.

“
Oh
, an athlete,” she stated admiringly, following behind me. “That explains the gorge structure of your body in all the right places,” she said, smiling incessantly. “I’ll bet you were quite the jock, huh?”

I hate jock questions. Not just that. What the fuck would high school have to do with now? I hate when silly shit comes out of people’s mouths
.

“So…” she said, watching as I collected my clothes from various locations on the floor, “…was this a one-night stand or can I see you again?”

I commenced to getting dressed, and when she thought I hadn’t heard her, she decided to repeat her question. “One-night stand, or can—”

“Maybe…” I responded, quickly cutting her off. “My schedule is pretty busy for the next few weeks. I have my club opening, and interviews for new staff, all kinds of shit.”

“Alrighty then,” she moped. “I guess you can call me sometime after your schedule clears. I’d love to hang out again. Maybe even a real date. I could be your date for your opening if you’d like. When is it?”

Once my clothes were back on, I retrieve my condom off her living room floor. There was no semen inside, but if there was even the slightest bit of pre-cum inside, I wanted to make sure it was out the door with me. Tricky shit happened when you weren’t careful, and I wasn’t ready to be anybody’s baby daddy. Nicole walked me to the door, where she lifted up on her tip toes, and attempted to snake her arms around my neck. When she brought her lips to mine, I stopped her.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Kissing isn’t something I do. Just a little funny about that.”

“
Awww
,” she pouted. “I thought that it was because you were in such a hurry to get to me that you bypassed that part out of our little escapade. But, wow. Okay. I guess that’s your thing. I just kinda figured after all we just shared…I mean, I blessed
him
with this very mouth,” she stated, inching her way back in, rubbing her hand over the front of my button fly. When I didn’t move to soothe her want, she appeared to have finally gotten the message, and stepped back allowing air to flow between us.

“Have it your way,” she remarked. “But then again you already did, and I enjoyed
every single inch
…and subsequent drop, too.”

You flinched every step of the way would be more like it. But yeah, I enjoyed you swallowing my dick whole!

I waved on my way out. “Thanks for having me over, Nicole. Have a good one!”

Temescal Hills, CA

Late night
…

Curtis scurried into the lounge meeting that had been called, fifteen minutes later than he was supposed to be there. He didn't want to be there to begin with, he had much bigger issues that he needed to tend to and these weak ass meetings always interfered with what he needed to do.
And then, why the fuck in the middle of the goddamn night
? For one, he needed to get home so that he could get Shaunie to her prenatal appointment. His son was due to be born in another four months and she was already pissed that he hadn’t made any of the prior appointments. But like he had explained to her at the time, “Stop with the complaining because it’s because of all I have going on that you’re able to live in a 5-bedroom house, or drive around in luxury cars, or travel to and from New York to party whenever you want.” She had been satisfied with the answer at the time, but he could tell she was getting tired of the material things, she wanted quality time. But if that was what she wanted, then she should’ve married some other guy because that wasn’t who Curtis was. Curtis was a businessman in every sense of the word, and women never equated to much in his eyes except for when they could be used to increase revenue. And that was why he was pissed about having allowed the bitch Alika to get away. It wasn’t that he had to have her, it was more about the plans he had for her. She was one of three women he had met on a dating site, but unlike the other two, she wasn’t in line with the plans he had for her. But he wouldn’t focus on it too much. At least he got to slide in her while he had her. And there would be plenty more where she came from. He’d get right on that as soon as his meeting with his boss was over.

“Curtis, you’re late,” he said, looking down at his expensive watch.

“Yeah, my bad, man. Today was all over the place.”

“Right! I forgot. You had that new pretty brown-skinned chick flying in yesterday, right?”

“Right.”

“Is she ready for work?”

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?
Ohhh
, you did talk to her ass for damn near a year before sending for her. So, what…? You decided you wanted to keep her as a main chick?”

“Not exactly.”

“What the hell is it with you and these ‘not exactly’ comments? Spit it out, man.”

“Had to get a little rough with her,” he said, nonchalantly hunching his shoulders. “She took off.”

“Took off?!” he laughed.

“Right after I fucked her man. Got in the shower, came out and the chick was gone! In the wind!”

“You had her thinkin’ you were about to wife her ass, that’s why. And then you didn’t put enough fear in her ass to not leave, that’s all. You’re slippin’. So, you don’t know where she is?”

“Nope, and I really don’t care. You know how I do. There’s
plenty
more where she came from. Pretty girls are always on a come up. We won’t ever have a shortage of women. Trust me when I tell you that. And judging by how business has boomed since we started running chicks out of that one spot, it’s easy to chalk ol’ girl up to a loss. She don’t pose any kinda threat because I took that broad to the Motel 6, so that was all she saw.”

“Okay, cool. You covered your tracks. “We’re good.”

“She wasn’t ready, so she wouldn't have been interested in making money long term anyway. We’re better off. I can always tell a resistant broad who can be convinced, versus a chick that’ll end up bringing our whole operation down. That was her. She wasn’t fuckin’ with it.”

“I feel you. We gotta watch our backs for sure. But she was a bad one though. All those pictures you showed me of her. Yeah, she was hot.”

“Yep, and she looked just like the pictures too, man. Good pussy too,” Curtis reminisced. “But anyway, what’s this business you called me here for?”

“Just wanted to let you know that I have somebody I wanted to involve in this whole thing.”

“What? Like a partner or some shit?”

“Definitely not. I just think he could be instrumental in keeping us under the radar when we do business out of Chaos.”

“We don't need that reinforcement. We’ve been good.”

“We’ve been good as far as the
girls
, but not the
other
stuff.”

“But we don’t fuck around with that spot for the
other
stuff.”

“We will now. Opportunity is knockin’. And since our spot was getting a little hot, I figured this might be a better route in order to take the attention off for a minute while I set up a new lab and new location and all that.”

“Ohhh, got you. Okay, well you know I’m down.”

~
4
~

Rush

Thursday, October 2, 2014

A few hours after coming from Nicole’s house, I sat on the edge of my bed with the sun peeking in through my shutters. I had barely opened my eyes, but I knew it was time to get my day started. There was way too much club business to handle. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the remote control to my stereo system and pointed it toward the deck to power it on. When my music started to play through the speakers, I could already begin to feel myself filling with energy. Music did that for me. Humming to Kings of Leon’s
Use Somebody
, I rolled my head from side to side to stretch out any kinks I’d gotten while I was asleep. After my mini stretch session, I looked down only to be greeted with a rock-hard-on. All I could do was shake my head. Seemed my dick just insisted on fucking with me as though I was being punished for not giving it the good pussy it so desired.
I tried, dude
,
I tried
. No more random ass pussy for me. At least not any that comes without references. Fuck that!

My phone started ringing and the clock hadn’t even struck 7AM yet. It wasn’t uncommon, but it was certainly annoying, especially when my dick was throbbing and all I wanted to do was get in the shower and beat it into submission so I could have a peaceful day. I grabbed the device from off my bed, reviewed its screen, then slid over the answer button and greeted Oscar. “Hey man, what’s up? You’re up early as shit.”

“I know. I’m a creature of habit. I don’t even know if I went to sleep last night.”

“Sherry will make you pay for that shit!”

“I already know, man. But I have a big case coming up for Brooklyn, so I wanted to get you out the way since yours didn’t seem so intricate.”

“Okay, what you got for me?”

I was eager for the information. I was at full attention, and fortunately for me, my dick no longer was! I think even I would have had a problem if my dick was still brick hard while I was listening to a dude talk on the other end of my line. I had to laugh on the inside at that shit.

“Of course all this will be faxed to your office, but just wanted to brief you on it first.”

“I appreciate that. I’m anxious to hear it.”

“Miss Alika Collins—oh, and it’s A-l-
i
-k-a, by the way. She’s squeaky. Not too much there at all. She was born November 1, 1987. She was raised by a maternal relative until she was eight years old, then ended up in foster care, emancipating at 18. No siblings. She graduated high school in 2004, with decent grades then pursued an AA but didn’t complete. She’s been an employee at The Cosmopolitan for a few years, but was laid off recently. She started out bartending, and then she did hostessing, and was most recently assistant manager. She has no kids, and she’s never been married.”

I liked hearing that there were no causes for concern in Alika’s background, because if she decided to stick around, and when/if I decided to make her mine, it helped to know that there were no deep, dark secrets in her closet ready to fall out. I didn’t need seedy pasts in my midst. No habits of meeting men on the internet, no embezzling of funds from any businesses, no felonies or misdemeanors. All good news.

“Now, for her travel situation,” Oscar continued. “Like you told me, she did just come to the Bay Area. She off-boarded in San Francisco yesterday early afternoon and she met up with a guy named Curtis Greene.”

That was what I was looking for!

“Damn, O! You got the dude’s name already?” Oscar never ceased to amaze me. The man had to be the best in the business.

“Yep. I ended up having to get a reverse search done on his image to get his name just to make sure that the guy shown waiting outside the car at the airport was the same guy. He picked her up, and then they took off to parts unknown.”

“Not exactly,” I confided. “Alika…I know where she is; I'm more concerned with where this Curtis Greene dude is.”

“And I figured something like that was going on, so I’m sending his address to your phone right now. He’s got two, and I’m assuming that one is a bachelor pad. The reason I say that is because the main address is where the woman whose name his car is registered to, lives. Checked that out and he’s married. So, you know how that goes.”

“Yep. I sure do.”

“What does he do?” I asked. “‘
Women
’, would of course be the obvious answer since he has a bachelor pad that I’m sure his wife doesn’t know about. But what does he do…professionally, or otherwise?”

“He’s a personal trainer. On each one of his social media sites, it’s all he talks about. All his pages are ‘public’, so he’s in it for the attention, for sure.”

“
Ohh
, he’s one of them, huh? A male attention whore. Gotcha.”

“Yeah, and another thing. Seems this douche has a habit of putting his hands on women. He’s got a few domestic violence charges—two of them against the wife. He’s pushed a little marijuana, and on paper, he’s small time, but I'm willing to bet that he’s pushing a little weight, and/or pushing women, if you know what I mean. I could dig deeper if you want.”

“Nah, this is all good information. I really appreciate it. You’re the shit, Oscar! I swear you are, man! Payment is on the way as soon as this call ends.”

“It’s on me. I saw a picture of your girl,” he paused. “She’s a stunner. I hope you can handle all of that,” he kidded.

“Oh, trust and believe,” I stated, cockily. “There’s no woman I can’t handle. But
this woman
isn’t mine,” I chuckled. “She’s a friend that I’m helping out.”

“Friend! Ha! That’ll be temporary,” Oscar joked. “She’ll be your woman before long. You ain’t checkin’ on her for nothing,” he laughed. “Just make sure I get an invite to the engagement party, the co-ed baby shower, or any other mushy shit you have planned.”

“Right, O!
Surrre
!”

We ended the call guffawing on either end. And after it was all said and done, I still shot Oscar off a $1,000 payment to his PayPal account. He put in labor and I wanted to make sure I honored that because I always felt that in business dealings it was important to make sure you acknowledged the hustle of another, no matter how small the feat. And to me, this wasn’t small because that dirty ass Curtis Greene needed to be taught a lesson. I had originally planned to get up early, go for a run, and then handle some business over at Chaos before it opened in the afternoon, but now, I had to take a detour.

When Oscar’s text came through to my phone with both his addresses, I was ready for action. I made a quick phone call to Quinton, a trusted confidante, with instructions. Afterwards, I hopped into a quick shower just to process and strategize. When I was done showering, I threw on a black Hanes t-shirt, some charcoal grey sweats, a beanie, and a pair of white Nikes. Right on time I received a text message from Quinton, after which I jetted to my destination to meet up with him.

After an antsy twenty-minute silent drive, I was exited my vehicle, and parked behind Quinton’s black Suburban, and took a short walk to a modest home in the center of the block on Jacuzzi Street, at the backend of Richmond. I could feel my hands begin to itch, and my anxiety levels increasing. The closer I got, I could hear the sound of rap music, and right when I was prepared to knock on the front door, Quinton opened it wide for me to walk through. He closed it behind me, stood against it and directed me to a chair inside the living room. I settled into the chair and sat wide-legged with my beanie on top of my thigh. The anticipation was killing me! I looked over at Quinton, and then impatiently tapped the top of my watch. “What gives?”

Quinton shrugged his shoulders, and smirked. “Shit if I know. I watched his chick leave and when I came in I was expecting to catch his ass roaming around his house, but instead I heard shower water. This fool takes long ass showers,” he laughed.

There ain't enough water to wash the scum off of this motherfucker
, I thought.

When we heard the water flow stop, a smile formed on my lips.
Let the games begin
.

It took a few minutes, but as soon as the door opened, out walked Curtis Greene. His eyes immediately fell upon us. I instantly scanned him. He looked familiar, like I’d seen him somewhere before. He was dark-skinned, 6’ and some change, 185-toned, bald headed, and a mustache. He had on sweats, a wife beater, and Nike sandals when he stepped into the hallway that connected to the living room. He looked from Quinton and then back to me.

“What the fuck you doin’ in my shit, bar boy?” he said, his chest tensing up.

“
Bar boy
? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Wow, okay! So that was it! He’s been to Chaos.
It must
really be on the map to attract scum like the fool before me. But that wasn’t why I was there. He’d probably not step foot back in there again, once our business was said and done.

“I been up in yo’ shit, homeboy. Chaos, right? So you think you got the right to walk up in my shit? That bitch musta let y’all in my crib?”

“What bitch would that be, Curtis?” I calmly asked.

I saw him dart his eyes once again between me and Quinton. He knew something wasn’t right, and he was trying to figure out strategy. Quinton’s appearance would have anybody shaken. He was a big guy, standing at 6’4, cut up from his obsession with working out, and no-nonsense. I hadn’t stood up yet, but I was sure that Curtis had already underestimated me by my looks. While I didn’t need Quinton’s help for what I had planned, he did need to be a lookout just in case.

“Man, I ain’t got time for this bullshit. The fuck y’all doin’ in my shit? I ain’t gon’ keep askin’. And how the fuck do you know my name, muthafucka? Y’all know what’s good, you’ll get yo’ ass up out my chair, and take ya Samoan wit you.”

I looked over at Quinton who flashed a quick smile from his position at the door.

“I’ll be getting’ the fuck out, Curtis, but not before we discuss some business.”

“Nah, white boy, you goin’ before that,” he said, reaching around towards his back.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Quinton warned, from his post, as he drew down on Curtis. “In fact, you need to put that muthafucka right on your little stand right there,” he ordered, waving his own pistol in the direction of the stand. It took a few seconds, but Curtis finally complied.

“So now to why I’m here, Curtis,” I said, from my seat. “Yesterday you picked up a friend of mine from SFO. A really nice girl who thought she was coming to see an equally nice guy, and you put your hands on her,” I smirked. “I suspect you did more than that, but it’s not really important that we get into details on that part of it. I’ve always had a problem with punk bitches that beat women.”

Curtis let out a loud, hearty laugh that hit volumes louder than his music. “Ain’t this about a bitch? So she suckin’ on yo’ dick now? That bitch is quick! She
just
touched down yesterday!”

I glared at him without responding. His cockiness and disrespect were pissing me off. I literally wanted to put my hands on him and put his ass to sleep. “I don’t think what she’s doing
now
is any of your fucking business.”

“You’re right,” he shrugged moving closer to where I was. “It ain’t my business because I don’t give a fuck about the trick ass bitch. So, if that’s why you’re here, you can get the fuck out. I know one thing; she musta given you the royal treatment! She got you fightin’ battles for her and she ain’t even from here. I knew I coulda made good money off—”

Before he could even get out the rest of his sentence, I was on my way across the room, and simultaneously, he came towards me. We locked up at the same time like two pit bulls, him swinging first. I ducked, and came back up, catching him in his jaw. He stumbled then recovered, and fists were being thrown on both sides. Quinton already knew what I’d come for, so he knew better than to get involved. This mission was mine and I wanted to carry it out all the way. Although we were both about the same height and weight, what Curtis didn’t have on his side was the rage I felt towards him. Something in me had always hated a man who would be so ruthless as to put his hands on a woman in any kind of way other than in the context of love or affection. We went toe to toe for the first part of the battle. I’d swing, he’d duck and vice versa. Unfortunately for him, however, my punches landed far more frequently than his because he didn’t realize early enough that he shouldn’t have underestimated me. Had it been in any other setting, I might’ve even said he put up something of a good fight. On his way to losing his attempted battle, he chose to talk shit when he should’ve been putting weight behind his sissy punches.

“Pussy ass muthafucka! Call ya’self wanna come get at me behind a bitch, I’ma show yo’ ass white boy!” he taunted, throwing yet another missed punch.

“You’re so worried about me being a white boy that you don’t get that I’m about to lay your ass out!”

“Yeah, okay!” he said, preparing to throw another right. Then just as he did, I swung and connected and once I began connecting, I didn't stop. Playtime was over. I laid into his face from every angle, watching his head bob back with each sock. Each time he tried to rebound, he failed, and each of his subsequent efforts failed in the same way. “I got ya white boy! Who’s the punk bitch now, Curtis! Who’s the punk bitch now?” I yelled as I finished him off. Blood was gushing out of the side of nose, and his eye had begun to close around its swelling. I swished my jaw side to side to alleviate the stiffness from the one punch he had landed at the onset of the fight. Once he hit the floor, all his shit-talking had stopped. The damage to his face was no match for the damage done to his ego. He groaned loudly while he was on the floor, and when he attempted to stand, he yelled out in agony.