Red Light Special
Authors: Risqué
CONTENTS
To Melody Guy, for your patience
and undying faith in my ability.
And to Nakea Murray, for always
knowing that this was possible.
To Danielle Santiago, Dywane Birch,
and Adrienne Byrd for the late nights and
early mornings, the five-hour shots,
and for always answering my calls when
I was pulling my hair out.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Lord, please grant me the courage to change the things that I can and the wisdom to know the difference….
To my Father and Savior, Jesus Christ. There have been many times when I’ve thought about the day I prayed while sitting at a red light and asked You to bless me with a chance…never imagining that all of this would unfold. I thank You, Father, for Your grace, Your mercy, and Your favor.
To my mom and dad, I thank you for your support with my writing, but more than that, I thank you for loving my children, picking them up from school, dance class, and for simply being there.
To my Grandma (in that tiny town of Murfreesboro, North Carolina—with the three traffic lights and one yield sign), who swears I don’t call or come see her enough. I promise you, I will call more often and stop asking you, “What in the world is there to do down there?” I love you, even though you keep calling me Sa’Sanda—LOL.
To my husband, who has always been my biggest supporter. Thank you for your patience, love, and understanding. My sweeties: Taylor, Sydney, and Zion, I love you soooooo much! I want so much to hand deliver you the world: I hope to teach you that dreams have no limits.
To my family, church family, and friends, your support is priceless and I hope to make you proud.
To my One World/Ballantine family, those seen and unseen, thank you so much for all that you do, I may have written the manuscript but together we made this a book.
To Adrienne Byrd and Ms. Dennesha Diamond, I thank you so much for talking to me three, four, five times a day, staying up with me sometimes from 9:00
P.M
. until 6:00 in the morning as I wrote this story. You are a brilliant author and I speak nothing but wonderful things about you.
To Danielle Santiago, who insisted that I stop what I was doing and read about the infamous scandal. You are a wonderful author with a world of potential! So climb over the rocks and continue on your road to greatness.
To Dywane Birch, you are such a gem and I’m so glad that we’re friends. I get so inspired when I speak to you, because I see what positive thinking and believing in one’s ability can do.
Nakea, Nakea, Nakea, all I have to say is that where would Risqué be if you hadn’t told me: “Stop it right now—Risqué doesn’t go to church!” LOL! I love you so much, my friend, you are an unselfish inspiration and I can’t wait for the day when I pick up “On Air.”
To K’wan, you are a brilliant author and a wonderful friend. Thanks a million for talking to me when I was stressed out and needed advice on how to write crazy shi*t! (LOL).
Keisha, I guess we’ve both learned that the book world is certainly a venture. Always remember to be true to yourself, that God is the only One in control, and never forget who your true friends are.
Anna J and Erik Gray, much success to you!
To my coworkers, you all have been some of my greatest supporters! Thanks could never be enough, and to my unit: Remember, we’re down like four flats!
To the bookstore, message boards, vendors, reviewers, and book clubs, thanks so much for your support in all of my literary ventures.
And saving the best for last, the fans. I have the best fans in the world! You all have opened your arms and embraced all of my literary works. You e-mail me and ask me questions, and I enjoy hearing from you. You all have helped to make this possible. Thank you so much! I would love to hear from you again, so be sure to e-mail me at
[email protected]
Also, be sure to listen to me and my crew—Nakea Murray and Tiffany Colvin (hey, Tiffany!) every Wednesday night at seven on blogtalk radio, “Three Chicks On Lit.”
Oh, and remember, this is fiction, so do not try this at home and if you do, then use a condom! Now let’s turn the page and do the damn thing! (And in the great words of Erykah Badu—“I’m an artist and I’m sensitive about my sh*t. So be easy.”—LOL!)
Love ya,
Risqué
KILLAH PUSSY
Four
A.M
.
Her eyes scanned the high-rise loft, drifting from the black satin sheets on the unmade bed to the strips of moonlight on the hardwood floor.
She sat crouched in the corner, knees folded into her chest, as she ran her hands through loose strands of hair that framed her face. Ashes from her cigarette fell between her knees as the faint sound of music drifted in from the apartment next door.
The octagon creases of the Crown Royal bottle reflected her disheveled appearance as a silenced and loaded 9 millimeter pistol lay next to her bare feet. She wiped the snot dripping from her nose, rose from the floor, and slipped her kitten heel mules on. Her head pounded with a migraine as she thought of all the fucked-up choices he made.
How he never once thought about her and about all the nights she cried. She wondered why he was doing this, why her love wasn’t enough. She’d already accepted that she wasn’t number one, but now she had to come behind a thousand-dollar-a-night-trick-ho.
She looked at the clock. Five
A.M
.
As her heels clicked, sounding out an offbeat rhythm across the hardwood floor, she heard keys jingling in the front door. She panicked. She didn’t want him to know she was here…at least not yet. She wanted to expose him, but not like this. She knew she didn’t have enough time to make it to the back door, so she ran into the hallway coat closet and retreated into the darkened corner, careful not to make any noise.
A few paranoia-filled seconds later, she eased closer to the door’s plantation louvers. From there she could see into the bedroom.
The smell of the cologne she’d given to him for his birthday drifted into the hallway, along with another, softer scent, confirming that he was not alone.
The couple came in from the dimly lit hallway, practically tripping over each other, their kissing silhouette reflected on the floor. She could see him biting the woman’s bottom lip. She yanked his shirt open, the buttons spilling onto the floor like spare change.
As they moved closer to the balcony and moonlight shone on the bitch’s face, she realized she’d seen her before. Eve was her name, and she was his regular whore.
The private eye she’d hired had told her that although there were others, Eve was his bottom bitch.
She watched him pick up the remote to the stereo, and moments later WBLS’
Quiet Storm
filled the air.
“Eve,” he said, breathing heavily, “come over here, baby.” He sat down in a red leather chair and Eve straddled him, rubbing the dripping silk from her wet pussy across his welcoming shaft.
“What you want, daddy?” She bit the side of his neck and gyrated her hips, her skirt easing over her naked ass.
He gripped both sides of her luscious behind and pressed his fingers deeply into her cheeks. “Get up and turn around.” Once her back was facing him, he ran his middle finger up her slit and then licked it.
Eve moaned. “Daddy, suck it…”
“Say please.” He twirled his finger in and out, moving from her ass to her wetness, back and forth and back again.
“Oh, daddy, please…,” Eve pleaded, feeling her pussy drip. “Please.”
He raised her dress completely over her apple ass and pulled her closer. Her behind was so beautiful that he stopped for a moment to kiss it. Then he took his tongue, opened her wetness, and licked it. He licked it hard at first and then soft, as if he wanted to prolong the moment.
“Harder, daddy,” she pleaded.
He lapped his tongue up and down while he slapped both of her cheeks.
“Harder!” she lustfully demanded.
Without hesitation he stuck his tongue directly into her. Eve screamed, and her knees became weak, causing her to tilt forward. He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her back so she wouldn’t fall. Taking his left hand and playing in her creamy canal, he said, “I should make you pay me for this shit.” He slapped one of her ass cheeks and bit the other. As he stuck three fingers into her pussy she began to do a Jamaican wine on his fingertips, her luscious moneymaker kissing his lips with every movement of her hips.
“Oh, daddy,” Eve said as his teeth sank into the meat of her ass, her pussy salivating from every ounce of sweet pain.
“Shake your ass in my face,” he insisted.
Eve did as he instructed, and he slapped her on the ass again. “I want more! Shake it in my face harder!”
She threw her hips in motion, causing her cheeks to groove like jelly.
“Motherfucker,” he said through gritted teeth, “what the fuck I tell you to do? You fuckin’ playing with me?”
“Na-na-na-nooooo…!” she stuttered. “I would never do that.”
“You better not.” He placed his hands on both of her hips and shook them, causing her bottom to jiggle wildly.
Eve could tell by the way he spoke that he was due to cum at any moment, so she spread her ass cheeks and his face disappeared in between. “Suck it! Oh my Gawd, please suck it…” It felt so good that for a moment Eve couldn’t remember what language she spoke: Spanish, English, Haitian patois…something…anything to help her understand how she was able to scream in a falsetto.
As he continued to lap the creamy pinkness of her sweetness, he panted and slid to his knees. Eve started working her clit over his tongue. She could feel her orgasm stirring intensely in her belly. Eve knew at any moment she was due to see the heavens and the stars and travel to a place far beyond space. Eve bit into her bottom lip as she closed her eyes. The sound of him tugging on her pussy lips filled the room.
He held her hands as he lay flat on his back and seduced Eve to spread her love over his face. Her chest heaved as tears blinded her eyes and within an instant she came twice. Afterward he picked her up, roughly slid her dress off, walked her out of the bedroom and over to the kitchen sink, and sat her on top. He reached behind her to turn the hot water on and let the steam rise between her legs.
The woman in the closet shifted to peer out through the slightly open door.
“When I throw this dick at you,” he said in a lustful rage, “you better throw it back or this hot water gon’ scald that ass.”
“Wait,” Eve said, feeling a spray of the steamy water popping against her skin. “That’s enough role play.” She pushed him slightly. “You being a little too freaky.”
“Oh, you denying me?” he said as he slid his nine and a half inches of crooked dick into her cum-filled slit. “You gon’ take this dick.”
She gasped. “Okay, okay,” she gasped again. “But take the stopper out the sink.”
“Hell no!” He thrust into her with all his might. “Now throw it back!”
Bracing her hands against the sides of the sink, she returned his stroke and ended up knocking over the plates in the dish rack, sending them crashing to the floor. There was some Crown Royal on the concrete countertop, and it too toppled over, with some of it running into the sink and the rest spilling onto the floor.
Eve arched her back as high as she could, giving him full access to her melting sugah walls.
The music from his dick seeped into the closet as the woman inside studied the motion of his balls banging between Eve’s thighs. The sound of their skin slapping burned her ears.
He gripped the edge of the windowsill behind the sink, breathed heavily into Eve’s ear, and pounded into her as if his life depended on it.
Judging by the way her body jerked, Eve knew her back had to be broken, but she did her best to quickly recuperate, as his strokes came in forceful succession. Eve tossed and turned and squirmed, dipping a portion of her ass into the scalding water rising behind her. She wanted desperately to tell him to stop the water and to let her go, but the mixture of pain, pleasure, and the unknown caused her to cum from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. All she could do was lay her head on the windowsill and struggle to breathe.
“What the fuck you all quiet for?” he said as he pounded into her.
“I’m tryna figure out,” she managed to squeak out, “why you got such a big dick if you ain’t workin’ it.”
Holding her waist and grinding into her, he threw her left leg over his shoulder and wrapped the right one around his waist. “Oh, I ain’t workin’ this dick?”
Just as Eve was about to say something slick, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Jesus!” Her head started to spin and she felt as if she were traveling in a whirlwind: Paris, Rome, Milan, Puerto Rico, home, and back again. All she could see was sweet blackness as she clawed her nails down his back, drawing blood, and cum rushed like tidal waves between her thighs.
“You better not be cummin’,” he instructed her. “Always fucking with me and shit.” He bit her chocolate drop nipples, her full breasts feeling like silk against his lips.
The woman continued to watch from the closet, and as tears fell from her eyes, she looked at his face and knew what he was about to say. “You love this dick, baby?” he said as she mouthed the words along with him.
“I don’t know,” Eve spat. “You haven’t given me a reason why I should love it yet.”
He threw Eve a hard hip and yanked a fistful of her hair, causing her neck to jerk back. “You fucking with me?” He took her legs and folded them Indian style across her chest. “What, you can’t take this big dick?”
“No,” she struggled to say as he made her ass rise off the sink. “I’m just tryna figure out why you ain’t workin’ it.” He pounded her, and a portion of her ass brushed the scalding water. “Ah!”
“I’m workin’ it?”
“No.”
He pounded her again, and this time the hot water felt more intense than before.
“Ah!” she screamed.
“You feel it?”
“No!” She squirmed, his dick pounding against her explosive G-spot.
He thrust into her again, and his dick felt as if it was expanding. “You feel it?”
She couldn’t answer. Her mouth couldn’t fix itself to form another lie.
“Answer me!”
With every thrust the hot water scalded her ass. Eve knew there had to be something wrong with getting turned on by the hot water, but the pain was no different from melted candle wax, a sensation she also enjoyed. She could feel her climax preparing to take flight and soak his dick. “I’m cummin’, baby.”
“Don’t cum before you tell me you feel this dick!”
“I feel it!” she screamed. “Oh God, I feel it!”
His nut burst like a breaking dam through the tip of his dick. “Goddamn!” he said, releasing his cum into her as he held onto the windowsill behind her. “That was the shit.” He kissed her lips.
Eve couldn’t answer; all she could do was breathe.
“You love me, baby?” he said as his chest heaved.
“Yes, daddy.” She could breathe a little easier now. “I do.”
He looked at Eve. “I want you in my life…all the time.”
A smile lit up her face, “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“And the others?”
“Fuck them. They’re over. You’re the only woman for me. No more denying you, no more of you being in the shadows. I’m taking you away from all of the street corners, the pimps, and the bullshit in your life and I’m making you mine. Fuck everything else and everybody else. It’s about you and me.” He kissed Eve on the lips again. “There’s no other woman for me.”
The woman in the closet fell against the wall. She didn’t care if they’d heard her or not. She didn’t know whether to be in shock or to not believe what she’d just seen. Something had to be wrong. He wouldn’t do this to her, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t be this strung out that he would let retail pussy dictate his fate.
There was no way he would choose some other bitch after all they’d been through. Certainly, he wouldn’t take all that she’d done, dismiss it, and then allow this bitch to reap the benefits.
She looked into his face and hoped to see some type of confirmation that he loved her the way she loved him. Yet when she saw the way he stared at Eve, his feelings were clear. He regarded Eve with a gaze she’d never seen. Now she was certain that he was seriously trying to oust her so he could set up shop with this streetwalking bitch.
Her life was over. There was nothing she could do to undo this. He’d crossed the line, and somehow she needed to make him pay for lying, cheating, and throwing her away as if she’d been a shitty piece of tissue stuck to his shoe.
The sounds of them beginning to make love again invaded her space, directing her anger to the bitch in there with her man. As he passionately kissed and stroked Eve, she pointed the gun in their direction, blasting it through the closet door. The hollow-point bullet soared through the wooden planks and within a millisecond of an instant invaded Eve’s skull.
Oblivious, he stroked with his eyes closed against his now-still lover, while their invisible guest quietly opened the closet door and slid out of the apartment. A few moments later as she stepped on the elevator, WBLS’
Quiet Storm
and his screams created an operatic choir behind her.