The Kat Trap (27 page)

I
t was almost seven-thirty p.m., and I had just turned left onto Monument Street and was makin’ my way toward the Peabody Court Hotel in the Mount Vernon section of Baltimore. Instead of takin’ that borin’-ass three-hour drive, I flew into the Baltimore–Washington International Airport, and had the first flight outta there in the mornin’. I didn’t even bother tellin’ Grant I was outta town since I was gonna be back in Jersey long before he even realized I was ghost. Besides, it really wasn’t any of his fuckin’ business. But, just in case the nigga called tryna come through, I decided I was gonna tell ’im I was out chillin’ with my girls.

I pulled up in front of the hotel entrance in my rental, then got out and grabbed my overnight bag. I handed the keys to the valet, then made my way into the hotel lobby.

“Hello, welcome to the Peabody,” the perky white chick said, greetin’ me with a wide, toothy smile. She was a cute blonde chick with big-ass teeth. Humph. She reminded me of Mr. Ed ’round that mouthpiece.

“Hi,” I said, givin’ her a phony-ass grin. “I have a reservation.” I gave her my name, slidin’ my bogus ID to her.

She clicked the computer keys with her long fingas, pullin’ up my information. “Ah, yes, Ms. Carmichael. Here you are.” She clicked the keys a few more times, then waited for the room printout. “There’s a package here for you as well,” she said, handin’ me back my ID.

“Oh, good,” I replied.

“Let me go get it for you,” she said, handin’ me my room key, and the printout to sign. “You’re in room 302.” I smiled to myself, knowin’ my mark’s room was right ’cross the hall from me. I never figured out how Cash always managed to know exactly what rooms these marks were in, but he did. The nigga had connects all over the country, in almost every type of industry. A muhfucka with that kinda power was not only dangerous, but it made my clit pulse, real talk. And I knew that the thing that kept me from fuckin’ Cash was the fact that his ass was gorilla ugly. Otherwise I’d probably been had his dick in my throat. She came back with a small brown box. “Here you go,” she said, handin’ it to me.

“Thanks,” I replied, gatherin’ my things to bounce.

“Enjoy your stay.”

“I’m sure I will.” I walked off toward the elevator.

Once I was inside my room, I dropped my shit on the bed,
stripped off my wears, then headed to the bathroom to run the shower. I wanted to get showered and chill for a minute before it was time to tap on my mark’s door to bring him room service—pussy and a bullet.

I decided to wait ’til ’round eleven to make my way ’cross the hall to his room. I had already changed up my look by skillfully puttin’ in my Especially Yours light-auburn Bohemian clip-in extensions wig, then puttin’ in a pair of contact lenses. The look was cute. Knowin’ how to rock a wig and beat this face really helped to keep my look fresh, and keep muhfuckas from identifyin’ me if shit got messy. I removed the hotel towel from ’round my body, then pulled out a handmade feathered flower from its satin pouch and dusted my body with Kama Sutra Honey Dust, Sweet Honeysuckle. Humph. I loved that shit. It conditioned the skin, leavin’ it silky smooth and glowin’. And it kept a nigga wantin’ to kiss all over ya body. Then I slipped into a breezy, multi-colored, abstract print Issa London kimono dress with plungin’ V neckline. The shit was sexy as hell. And for the grand finale, I slipped my feet into a pair of four-inch Gucci Page pumps, then tossed my gun into my large white Michael Kors Beverly Python drawstring satchel. I peeked outta the door e’ery so often to make sure there was no one wanderin’ the halls. When the coast was clear, I made my way to my mark’s door and gently knocked.

My target for the night was a tall, thin but nicely chiseled, brown-skinned, B-ball-type nigga. He had a neatly trimmed mustache, goatee, and low-cut fade with thick eyebrows. He was thirty-one and recently married. Although I was ’bout to make his wife a widow, I was glad the nigga didn’t have any children. I always hated havin’ to body muhfuckas who had kids; I was robbin’ them of havin’ a father in their life. Oh well…life goes on!

For some reason, e’ery time I was ’bout to earth a nigga, I stressed ’bout havin’ to go into plan B, in case a muhfucka wasn’t beat for pussy, or I just couldn’t get at ’im the way I wanted. The whole idea of havin’ to squat somewhere in a tinted-out car, or be crouched down low, hidin’ in bushes with a night-scope on my gun, waitin’ to take a shot at a muhfucka, did not appeal to a freaky bitch like me. And I damn sure didn’t wanna haveta flat-out shoot the nigga up without ridin’ down on his dick first.

When there was no answer, I took a deep breath and knocked again. Although I heard the TV on, I knew that didn’t mean his ass was in the room. I knocked again. And smiled when I heard a voice on the other side.

“Just a minute,” the deep voice said. I heard the chain latch slidin’, then the door opened. Humph, this nigga was fine. He stood in the doorway wearin’ a white wife beater and some navy blue basketball shorts. “Can I help you?”

I scanned his body real slow and easy, startin’ from his feet and calves, to his thighs, then the center of his crotch, to his chiseled chest and finally into his eyes. I smiled. “Oooh, I’m sorry,” I said, standin’ with my back straight, my chest out showin’ cleavage for days, and my left leg forward, givin’ him my best model stance while my satchel hung in the crook of my right arm. “I’m lookin’ for Anthony.”

My nipples were hard from the light brush of the fabric against ’em. And it was makin’ me horny. He tried hard to keep his focus on my eyes and not my titties. I smiled to myself when he glanced at ’em. “Sorry, beautiful, no one by that name is here.”

I acted like I was confused. “This is room 321, right?”

He looked at the room number on the door. “Sure is, but no Anthony is staying here.”

I had already spent two minutes in the hallway with him and
was startin’ to get antsy. I needed to get inside his room, and quick, before someone came out. I sucked my teeth, actin’ like I was upset. “Oh, shit. I can’t believe I done drove all the way down here, and this fool done gave me the wrong information. Well, I’m sorry for disturbin’ you.”

He smiled. “It’s cool; you weren’t disturbing me. I was just watching TV.”

Okay, bitch, you need to hurry up and get into this nigga’s room,
I thought to myself, glancin’ at my timepiece. “You mean to tell me a nice-lookin’ brotha like you is all holed up in this room solo? Now, that’s a crime.”

He laughed. “Yeah, well, it is what it is. I’m outta this piece in the mornin’ so it’s all good.”

“Well, let me get goin’. I guess I gotta go find out where this fool is. You enjoy the rest of ya night.”

“You, too,” he said, lickin’ his lips. “Sorry I couldn’t help you.”

I smiled, preparin’ to walk off. “If I can’t track my friend down, who knows…maybe you can.”

“Hell,” he said, smilin’, “if it makes you feel better, I can pretend to be him if you’d like.”

“You know what,” I said, turnin’ around, “do you mind if I come in for a minute before I decide what I wanna do?”

He opened the door wider, and smiled, steppin’ back. “Not at all.” He spread his arm out, invitin’ me into his space. I smiled as I lightly brushed past him, throwin’ an extra shake in my ass. I silently blew out a sigh, relieved that I’d gotten up in his room. I glanced at my watch again. It took me four minutes to get in. “Here, have a seat,” he said, removin’ his clothes from outta one of the chairs. He had shit e’erywhere. Clothes, footwear, and newspapers were tossed all over the place.

“You mind if I use ya bathroom?”

“No, help ya’self.”

I went into the bathroom and shut the door. This nigga was a damn slob.
Humph,
I thought, frownin’.
I’ma be doin’ his wife a big-ass favor. Hell, if these niggas he fucked over wasn’t tryna earth his nasty ass, it would only be a matter of time before his wife wanted him bodied.
He had wet towels on the floor, and the nasty muhfucka had piss still in the toilet—and it was dark enough to look like he had pissed a few times without flushin’. I rolled my eyes, and flushed the toilet like I was gettin’ ready to use it. I flipped open my cell and called Cash, whisperin’ into the phone to let him know what was what, then I called my house and started spazzin’ like I was really talkin’ to somebody named Anthony. I talked loud enough so dude could hear bits ’n pieces of what I was sayin’, if he was eavesdroppin’, which I knew he probably was.

When I was finished, I flushed the toilet again, then ran the water and washed my hands and dried ’em with some tissue. I smiled at myself in the mirror, then walked back out into the room. Dude was sittin’ on the edge of the bed, leanin’ back on his forearms. I peeped the slight lump in his shorts as I walked by, and licked my lips.

“So where you from?” he asked.

“Jersey,” I said.

“Oh, word? What part?”

“Jersey City,” I lied.

“So, what brought you down this way?”

I tilted my head, twirlin’ one of the wig’s curls. “If I told you, you gonna think I’m crazy.”

“No I won’t. Try me.”

“Dick,” I said, eyein’ him and taking a seat across from the bed. “That’s what brought me down here.”

He shut his legs together real tight, then opened them and
fanned a few times. I could see the happy lump in his lap start to thicken.

“Really,” he said, noddin’ his head and grinnin’. “So, this Anthony cat, is he ya man or something?”

I leaned back in my seat and crossed my legs, allowin’ my dress to rise up over my thigh. He glanced at my smooth legs, but quickly shifted his eyes. I shook my head. “Nah, he’s just this married dude I fuck from time to time.”

“Damn, it’s like that, huh?”

I decided to get up in his head and fuck with him a bit. I nodded. “Mmm-hmm. On some real shit, there’s just somethin’ ’bout fuckin’ a married man that turns me on.”

“Oh, is that right?” He started playin’ with the string to his shorts, then slowly pullin’ at the edge of his tee shirt, liftin’ his shirt up enough for me to see the curly patch of hair ’round his navel. “So, what you gonna do? You gonna track dude down?”

“Nope,” I said, uncrossin’ my left leg, then shiftin’ in my seat and crossin’ my right leg. “I called him while I was in the bathroom, and cursed him out for havin’ me waste my gas and money. So he won’t be gettin’ none of this tonight. I’m pissed I gotta turn ’round and take that long drive back to Jersey. I was really lookin’ forward to somethin’ real thick and chocolate tonight.”

“Damn,” he stated, shakin’ his head. “That’s f-d up. Well, you know…you can chill here if you want. As you can see it’s just me up in here.”

Bitch, shoot this nigga and be done with this shit.
I glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. It was 11:45 p.m. “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be safe for me to chill up in here.”

He laughed. “Nah, you safe, baby. I don’t bite. Well, not unless you want me to.”

I laughed. “Oh, it’s not you I’m worried ’bout. It’s me. As horny
as I am, I’ll be the one who might end up tryna bite you,” I teased. “So bein’ alone in a room with a fine man is definitely not a safe move.”

“Oh, I’m a big boy,” he said, spreadin’ his legs open as wide as they would go. “I think I can handle a little bitin’ if it got to that point.”

“Be careful what you ask for,” I said, eyein’ him playfully. “I’ma chick in heat, and that makes me dangerous.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, check this. I like livin’ on the edge, baby.” He stood up, proudly displayin’ an imprint of a long, thick dick hangin’ down the front of his shorts. I pressed my legs shut to pinch off the excitement stirrin’ in the center of my pussy. “How ’bout I go hop in the shower, and then we can really chill?”

I smiled. “Sounds promisin’. I hope you can deliver.”

“Give me a sec, and I’ll show you what it is.”

He went into the bathroom, leavin’ the door cracked. I heard the shower go on, and the curtain slide back, then slide again. I waited a few more seconds to make sure he was in the shower, then got up and slid my gun up under the side of his mattress. I sat back down and waited for him to come back out.

Ten minutes later, he walked back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped ’round his waist and droplets of water still on his chest and arms. He dried the top half of his body with another towel. My God, this chiseled nigga’s body was so fuckin’ tight I wanted to throw him down on the bed and fuck him through tomorrow. I glanced at the clock, then returned my attention to him. I was ready to fuck. And ready to get this shit over with. I stared at him as he stood in the middle of the room, then a sly grin spread ’cross my face.

“Drop ya towel,” I said, standin’ up to remove my dress, “and
stroke ya dick for me.” I slowly slipped outta my wears, standin’ in front of him in just my heels and black lace thong. He took my body in, starin’ at my titties and huge dark nipples that were hard and achin’ for his tongue on ’em. He kept his eyes on me as he started pullin’ at his long dick, swingin’ it, and cuppin’ his smooth, fat balls. “Ooooh, you got a big dick,” I moaned, pinchin’ my nipples.

“You like that shit, baby?” he asked, strokin’ his dick until it stiffened and got longer. “Damn, girl, you got a nice body. Turn ’round; let me see that ass.” I slowly turned around, givin’ him a full back view of my soft, fluffy ass. “Damn, girl,” he said, pumpin’ his dick in and outta his hand. “You gotta big ass. Bend over and open that shit up for me. Let me see the back of that pussy, and that pretty asshole.” I smiled, lookin’ over my shoulder at him dippin’ at the knees while beatin’ his dick. I removed my thong and bent all the way over, pullin’ open my ass cheeks for him. “Oh, shit. Damn, that pussy looks good.”

“And it tastes good, too,” I said, makin’ my ass clap ’n bounce for him. “Come over here and stick ya tongue up in it.”

“You gonna suck this long dick, right?”

“Yeah, nigga, after you let me wet ya tongue up with some of this hot suga juice,” I said, placin’ my left foot up in the chair, then bendin’ over and grabbin’ my right ankle without bendin’ my knee. He started walkin’ toward me with his extra hard cock in his hand, then dropped down on his knees, pullin’ open my ass. “Oh, yes,” I moaned as he slowly lapped at my slit. He kept on lappin’ and lappin, then dartin’ his tongue in and outta my pussy until I felt a nut startin’ to swell up in my belly.