Chapter 1
Burberry Escalade ESV Miami, Florida
Friday Afternoon
It was two weeks before spring break and the sun and heat were relentless. The temperature was in the upper nineties, with Kool-Aid blue skies. Sitting on twenty-six-inch spinners, the canary yellow Cadillac Escalade ESV pulled to a stop on Sixty-second and Seventeenth in Liberty City, near the Pork-n-Beans projects.
“The world is mine. Yo, ya hear me, son?” Menage said into his Nokia cell phone as he lowered the tinted window to check out the two shorties walking past his SUV. He pressed a switch, closing the window, and settled back into the coke-white and yellow Burberry print leather seats with his phone to his right ear and waited for the light to change. “You hear me, Dwight?” he repeated. “Hot as a bitch out here!” he added as he activated the AC by voice command.
“Yeah, man. What’s up?” Dwight replied over the cell phone. “You get my message about DJ?”
“Yeah, about five minutes ago,” Dwight said. DJ had brought a black DB-7 Vantage Volante into the chop shop the night before. Both men knew that the going rate on a DB-7 was close to $170,000, so Menage would make a lick once he tagged it. “How the hell he pull that off?”
“Don’t know yet. I wasn’t in when it came. I’ma holla at him later on, but for now I’ma let it sit,” Menage said.
“That’s a good move—hope it’s not out-of-state.” Both men knew that transporting stolen goods across state lines would wake up the big dogs—the feds.
“Nah, nigga, I know the rules on that.”
“Word . . . so where you at now?”
“In the beans, ’bout ta head on over to 103rd to check on shorty I met last night at the strip club. Yo, Dwight, shorty thick to def,” Menage said as he adjusted the rear view mirror.
“Bruh, you trippin’. What’s up with you and Chandra? You need to stop trying to live up to your name.”
Menage frowned. “Nigga, please, since when you became the Pope? Yo, I’ma holla.” Before Dwight could reply, Menage had snapped his phone shut and tossed it onto the passenger’s seat. He activated the sound system, cracked the tinted windows down a few inches and slid the sunroof open—all by voice command. The ESV slowly cruised down Sixty-second with its four, fifteen-inch Alpine speakers thumping a hit by Outkast. Menage was in his element. He wore an all white, silk and mesh Sean John baggy jogging suit with a matching sun visor turned to the side. Around his neck hung a diamond-encrusted rope that swung below his chest. Attached to it was a matching medallion that spelled out his last name. Dangling from his left wrist was a custom-made, iced-out Millennia Bulova watch—a perfect match for the six platinum teeth in the front bottom row of his mouth.
As Menage made a right turn on Twenty-seventh Avenue, his left wrist draped over the chrome and oak steering wheel, he thought of the girl he’d met the night before. The Bounce Back strip club was his second home, and the instant Benita hit the stage in high heels and a thong she had his complete attention. She had said that she was twenty-two as she gave him a lap dance up in VIP. She was built like a dream, and she had a face and body that any man—and from what he had seen last night—even a few women would lust for. Without heels Benita stood at five foot ten, with thick juicy thighs and smooth, blemish-free mahogany skin to match. She had a rule about dating guys she met at work, but for some reason she made an exception for Menage. His lean, five foot eleven, 190-pound frame stood before her and he looked into her eyes, knowing she expected him to zero in on the two natural thirty-eight double-Ds that were smack dead in his face, spilling out of her mesh Fendi bra. He played it cool; he didn’t want her to regret breaking her rule for Menage Unique Legend.
Benita was looking forward to the date to see what Miami was really all about. For two months she had been staying with her cousin, Lisa, who was a full-time nurse at Jackson Memorial. For five years, Miami, which was a whole lot different from Kinston, North Carolina, had been her home. Since Lisa worked more hours than she could stand, she really didn’t have the time to show her cousin around. In the meantime, Benita was content with attending Dade Community College, making a few bills at the club and crashing out on the couch in Lisa’s one-bedroom apartment. Lisa and Benita Alston acted like two sisters instead of cousins. Lisa was in her early thirties and kept her five foot eight petite body in the best of shape. She was easy to get along with, just as long as you didn’t tell her she looked like Amerie—something she’d heard over a million times. “I’m taller and my tits are bigger than hers,” she would always say with a smile, knowing that it was the truth.
“Girl, who is that out there with that loud-ass music!” Lisa said sticking her head out the bathroom door holding a towel around her naked body.
“I think it’s for me, girl,” Benita said all bubbly as she peeked through the blinds. “Yesss, it’s him,” she said to herself. Outside Menage waited for the gulwing door to raise before stepping out of the stunning ESV. “Lisa, how do I look?” Benita held her arms out, turning around for Lisa to check her over.
Lisa smacked her lips. “Just don’t stretch my top too much with your big tits.”
Benita dropped her arms. “Girl, please.”
“Hey, I wanna meet him.”
“Not while you’re nude you ain’t.”
“Girl, he done seen some breasts before,” Lisa teased playfully.
“That might be true, cuz, but he won’t be seeing yours.” Lisa rolled her eyes and shut the bathroom door. Benita turned to open the front door just as Menage started to knock. “Dang he’s so fine,” she thought as he stood in the doorway flashing his twenty-thousand-dollar smile. She knew that Lisa would try to be nosy and she quickly moved things along. “Lemme get my tote bag and I’ll be ready,” she said hoping she didn’t say anything stupid.
“I’m not in a rush,” Menage said watching the glare from his jewelry blind her.
Walking toward the ESV, Benita tried to play it cool as the passenger door slowly lifted. “Nice,” she said as it slowly closed on its own with a soft click. “I . . . didn’t know they made ’em like this,” she added running her fingers over a silver slab of wood on the dashboard that surrounded one of the five Panasonic plasma screens.
“They don’t.” Menage was trying to see where her head was. Last night she had turned him down for some one-on-one and since she presented a challenge, he pressed even harder until he got the digits. He figured she didn’t know what he was worth, but he didn’t play himself by saying what he had. But he wondered if maybe he went a little overboard by slipping five hundred in her g-string, which was really a small thing for him. Most nights he would leave with a stripper who gave up the ass as soon as they got into his whip. So far, Benita didn’t act all childish over his material things, so he gave her a few points.
Menage had plenty of nicknames around the hood. The most common one was, “The Most Wanted Baby Father.” His man, Dwight, always said, “Why waste time when you have a main girl?” Menage cared deeply about Chandra Lovick but if he cared so much for her, why was Benita sitting next to him? Well, if you let him tell it, he’d say because she had a phat ass and juicy tits, but that was in his world—and he set the rules.
“So I’ll give you your first official tour of the M.I.A.,” Menage said as he lay back in the Burberry seat. “I guess we can just play it by ear . . . roll through the hood and whatnot. How you feel ’bout dat?” He managed to steal a glance between Benita’s thighs. Now he knew what inspired Ginuwine to write that damn song, because he sure as hell wanted to get in those jeans.
“That’s straight,” she said putting on her seat belt.
“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Menage said, sitting erect.
“Go ahead.”
She turned her hips in the seat to face him.
Horns blew from the heavy traffic as the ESV cruised down Seventh Avenue, but Menage’s attention was on Benita as he fought to control his raging hormones. She was definitely having an affect on him.
“Yo, do you feel odd knowing I done seen you half naked? No disrespect, ma, but when you came out on the thong song . . .”
“It’s okay. I don’t feel odd at all because it’s a job to me,” she said smiling, moving her bang from over her right eye.
“I know dat’s right!” Menage knew they had all day to kick it, so he told her to sit back and enjoy the ride.
Benita couldn’t stop the goose bumps as they drew attention at the light; the Alpines mercilessly vibrated the pavement with Mobb Deep’s hot beats.
* * *
In a lavish condo in North Miami Beach, Dwight McMillan flopped down on a leather couch as his woman, Tina Townes, nagged endlessly. The twenty-eight-year-olds were at odds again.
“Dwight, baby . . . it’s been . . . it seems like since day one you’ve been letting Menage tell you how to handle your affairs!” Tina snapped, standing in front of him with her hands on her thick hips.
Dwight let out a deep breath and rubbed his face with both hands. “Tina,” he said looking up at her, “for the last time, no one is in charge. You know he’s fair and if it wasn’t for him, do you think we’d have all this?” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, adding emphasis to his statement as he glanced across the living room with its two-inch-thick plush carpet. “So why are you stressing twenty-four/seven? You got the ride you always wanted, you wear designer clothes . . . what more can you ask for, Tina? If it wasn’t for Menage, we’d still be trying to make ends meet.” Dwight stood up and wrapped his arms around Tina’s waist. She stepped closer to him, resting her head under his chin.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I guess I do need to look at the whole picture,” she said softly.
“Menage has come a long way, Tina. That was a tough block he grew up on in Liberty City on Sixty-fifth. And I can say this: He hasn’t forgotten where he came from. He was the one that gave money to the city and the NAACP to build that new park in Liberty City.” He raised her chin with his right index finger and lightly kissed her on the lips. He then gazed over her shoulder through the tinted floor-to-ceiling window and watched a few cruise ships heading out to sea. The view always lifted his spirits.
“Baby, he’s just so . . .” Tina searched for a word to describe Menage. “All those girls he fools around with, you know he’s gonna break Chandra’s heart if she finds out.” And he’s so damn conceited, she wanted to add.
“I’m trying to talk to him about that . . . and you’re right.” Dwight looked at her with a warm smile.
Tina gripped his shirt, pulling him closer. “I love you so much,” she whispered, standing on her toes to stick her warm, wet tongue into his mouth. She shivered as his soft hands slid under the edge of her tight-fitting Miami Heat Jersey dress, cupping the bottom of her butt cheeks.
“No panties?” he said breathing heavily as Tina began to take off his shirt.
“Not when daddy’s home.” At the last shirt button and just as he managed to slide a finger into her sex, the phone chimed. “I’ll get it,” Tina said pushing him playfully down onto the couch. She swayed her voluptuous hips as she walked toward the bar, knowing that she had her man’s full attention. Flinging her hair from her face and ear, she picked up the phone on its fourth ring. “Hello?” she said softly as she leaned against the bar and looked back at Dwight, now sliding his sex-coated fingers into his mouth.
“Yo, Tina, what up shorty?” Menage’s voice seemed to taunt her, and her mood quickly changed. She rolled her hazel eyes and gripped the phone.
“Look, boy! I’m not your shorty, okay, so don’t call me that!”
“Damn, Tina, calm down, you know I’m just trippin’. Anyway, let me holla at Dwight.”
“Hold on, boy!” Tina trudged over to Dwight and dropped the cordless phone on his lap before going back to the bar for a drink.
“What’s up, bruh?”
“Hey, Dwight, meet me at the Omni Mall ’bout six tonight.”
“Why, what’s up?”
“Oh, this the remix for ‘Twenty-One Questions?’ Relax homie, and bring Tina, too.”
“Where you at now?”
“Damn, Dwight . . . I’m at Bayside wit’ shorty I told you about. But we need to handle some money figures tonight. You feel me?”
“Yeah, bruh, I feel you.”
“One,” Menage said.
“Two,” Dwight replied and pushed the disconnect button. He scratched his chin and laid the phone on the mirrored end table.
“Let me guess,” Tina said sarcastically, handing Dwight a glass of Bacardi Vanilla Rum, “General Legend wants private McMillan to do his bidding today, huh?”
Dwight jumped up from the couch, nearly spilling his drink. “Tina!” He raised his voice, causing her to take a step back. “Will you please cut the bullshit? Matter of fact, he wants both privates—that’s you and me. We’re going to the Omni tonight.” He hated that he had raised his voice at her. Tina was shocked and unable to speak. Dwight lowered his drink onto a coaster, then took Tina’s and did the same. “Listen, baby.” His tone was considerably lower now, and he reached for her hips in the cut out space on her jersey. “Many people overlook the good things he do. Sure, he’s a player, or whatever. Remember when he came over with that girl last weekend?”
“The one that’s only sixteen!” Tina snapped looking up into his eyes. Tina was tall but Dwight was taller at six foot four.
“He’s not sleeping with her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, really!” She laughed. “Menage in a platonic relationship with a female? Please!”
Dwight let out a deep sigh and backed away from her. “He used to talk to her sister.”
“You mean fuck her sister!” Tina said with her hands on her bare hips.
“Will you stop cutting me off? Anyway, that young girl was depending on her sister to help her go to college if she couldn’t get a grant. Apparently she didn’t get it and her sister got passed up for a promotion, so the funds weren’t there. When Menage found out about it, he offered to help, and he paid for the girl’s full education. And for your information, he was taking her to see her boyfriend in jail that day. Now tell me how many guys you know like that?” Tina changed the subject, voicing her other plans for the night, but Dwight made it plain and clear that she would have her black ass at the Omni. He left her standing in the living room, avoiding a stupid shouting match with her. After finishing her drink, she went into the bedroom expecting to find him and discovered that he was in the shower. Slipping off her jersey, she joined him.
“You still mad at me?” she said standing behind him, looking at the soapy trail sliding down his body.
“I’m never mad at you, Tina,” he said washing his chest. “Oh, really,” Tina said stepping in closer to join him under the hot spray of water. She pulled a rag from the gold bar against the wall behind her, soaked it and started to wash her man’s back. She saw his muscles tense and flex under her touch. As she moved the rag down lower, she let it drop and started to rub his ass, causing him to groan. “You like it when I touch you like this, Dwight?” she said sliding a hand around his waist to find him already hard. Wrapping her other hand around him, she pressed her body tightly into his, causing her breasts to flatten against his back. Dwight braced himself up against the marble wall as Tina brought him to a healthy climax.
Bayside
Biscayne Blvd.
After tasting her first spicy Jamaican meal, Benita pointed out an empty bench near the waterfront. “Finally some shade,” she said. Menage still had his eyes on her—from her white tilted fedora to her stylish, shoulder-length, silky black hair with tinted red tips . . . and it was all hers. Her mahogany skin looked even smoother now, and the scent of her invigorating perfume made him not want to exhale. He asked her what the name of it was as they ate.
“Glow, by J-Lo,” she said, feeling she was getting her money’s worth since the fragrance was a little pricey.
He even asked about the Nude and Glitter lip gloss on her lips. They were two separate products but she liked to mix them so her glossy, sexy lips could show off a few specks of glitter. The yellow cotton tank top and white jeans were all by Lady Enyce. Even her bi-weekly pedicured feet got his attention in the pumps she wore. She was sexy without being revealing. In addition to her tall frame, Benita had a soft and curvaceous body with stats that many women would pay to possess. Her ample breasts, tiny waist, and healthy hips were mesmerizing. Menage figured she’d be some naïve, money-hungry, no-goals-having, I’ma-strip-till-my-tits-say-quit chick, but she was none of that. She was smart, funny and didn’t let her job run her life. And to her, that’s all it was—a J-O-B.
As they continued to sit on the bench, Menage found himself still just wanting to inhale her sweet scent and stay near her. She was surprised at his behavior. At first, she regretted breaking her rule of dating guys she met at work. But is this really a date? she thought. She just knew he would try to bring up sex and she was ready to kindly say no. “This is beautiful,” she said taking off her shades.
“They got places like this where you from?”
“No, boy,” she said touching his knee. It’s nothing like this . . . I can stay here forever.” Menage thought about putting his hand on top of hers but she moved it onto her lap.
“Damn! I’m glad you don’t sell drugs. I’m not trying to judge you, but one of my cousins met this guy and he came to pick her up for their second date with drugs in the car. It was just her luck that the car was stolen and he tried to put it on her when he got arrested.”
“That’s some lame shit. Did she beat the case?”
“Yeah—seven-thousand dollars for a lawyer and a two-year deal.” Benita promised herself that she’d never go through any shit like that—no matter how good the guy looked. Now it was time to test him. “So what’s on your mind,” she said turning to face him. She quickly thought of how other men—or boys—usually replied to this question. If you wanna be on top or bottom. Wrong! Me and you and some whipped cream. Wrong! Me, you, and your cousin. Definitely wrong! She just knew he’d be like the rest.
“Life,” he said looking into her eyes. Benita thought he had to be joking, but after she looked into his eyes she knew he was for real.
“Well, I guess you have a lot on your mind.” She was right, but he sure wasn’t willing to share it with her.
“Hey, there’s a million other things we can do than sit on this bench. How you feel about the zoo?”
“I’m game as long as I’m with you.” Together they stood up, eyeing one another. They walked hand in hand back to the parking lot. Benita didn’t know what to think. She was about to kiss him on the cheek, but he suddenly shoved her to the ground. She started to yell at him but the loud gunshots rang out, hitting the ground next to her.
* * *
Dwight softly massaged Tina’s feet with scented lotion as she lay back on the king-sized bed. She wore a green, sheer Fendi teddy.
“You still mad at me?” he said sliding his thumb over her heel.
“Shhh.” Tina slowly lifted her free foot to his mouth. He took her foot from off his lap and ran a hand up her bare thigh. She welcomed his touch, spreading her legs. “Don’t tease me, baby,” she said squeezing and rubbing her breasts. As he moved forward, she bent her knee to keep her toes in his mouth. “I love you so much,” she moaned as he slid the teddy up around her waist. Tina watched through dazed eyes as he turned onto his stomach to feast between her legs, and her back arched the instant his tongue slid over her sex. She locked her heels around his lower back and started to hump his face as the sound of his wet smacking mixed with her moans. She practically ripped the thin teddy from excitement. “Oooooh, baby, yesss,” she squealed as he slid a finger into her wet opening. He was sucking on her clit when the phone rang minutes later. Neither of them paid it any mind and it rang three times before the call was picked up by the answering machine. Tina held the back of Dwight’s head, grinding her pussy into his face, when all of a sudden she stopped. The female voice on the machine was asking for her man.
Dwight moved Tina off of him and stared at the answering machine. “What the hell?” he said as the woman begged him to pick up the phone. He picked up the receiver. “Who is this and how did you get this number?” he said sitting on the edge of the bed as Tina moved closer to his side.
“Th-this is Benita. I pushed redial on Menage’s phone and—”
“Wait!” Dwight exclaimed. “Where is Menage?”
“He’s been shot.”
“Shot!” he shouted. “Where . . . oh, shit!” As fast as she could, Benita told him about the drive-by and that she was at the hospital after following the ambulance in his ESV. By the time she was done, Dwight was dressed and heading for the door. Tina stayed on the phone with Benita to calm her down, but the call was cut off because of bad reception.
Dwight made it to Jackson Memorial Hospital in record time, locking the brakes on his blue Dodge Viper. After finding out what room Menage was in, he ran through the halls, ignoring the shouts from doctors and nurses asking him to slow down. He caught his breath as he reached Menage’s room and noticed two uniformed cops in the hallway. He was close to losing his temper, as they wouldn’t allow him into the room.
“What seems to be the problem, officers?” Dr. Wilson said as he walked up and stood next to Dwight. Dwight released a sigh of relief. Dr. Wilson smoothed things out in a matter of seconds and Dwight was given ten minutes to visit Menage. He entered the brightly lit room and said a silent prayer when he found his dawg lying on his stomach without any machines or IV.
Dwight stood at the side of the bed. “Bruh, you sleep?”
“Nah, just looking at my eyelids.” Menage opened his eyes and smiled, but he winced when he tried to turn his head to look at his friend.
“Man, what happened?” Dwight asked before sliding a chair closer to the bed and sitting down.
“Got caught in a drive-by. Some cats rolled up in a Chevy and started dumpin’.”
“Were they aiming for you?”
“Man, I ain’t looked or asked no questions. I tried to grab my heat and bust back, but I had to cover shorty so I pushed her out of the way.”
“Hold up, hold up. You risked your life for that girl you told me about!”
Menage sucked his teeth. “Yeah, man, let me finish. Anyway, I peeped what was going down, and then I realized I’d be better off to cover her. I caught a round in my back just as I dove on her. The police said the slug is stuck in my vest. I guess the impact knocked me out. But yeah, you can say I saved her life. Another guy got hit in the leg, so I really can’t say they was gunnin’ for me. Ain’t like I started a war or somethin’.”
“So why you out sporting a vest?” Dwight asked. “Shit, it matched my outfit. Yo, who called you?”
“That girl you was with,” Dwight said folding his huge arms. “She’s down on the second floor. I cleared things with our friend, Dr. Wilson. Man, are you sure you weren’t the target?”
Menage thought for a minute as he played the whole scene out in his mind again.
“Nope.”
“That’s what I figured.”
“Well, ain’t no need to sweat it. I’ll be able to leave later tonight.”
“What about the police?”
“Fuck ’em. I told ’em I had my back turned—ain’t seen shit.” Dwight was about to ask him about the DB-7 and why he wanted to see him and Tina at the Omni, but two taps at the door stopped him. Benita walked in with tears still in her eyes. She walked slowly up to the side of the bed.
“You ok?” she asked rubbing his arm. Sure, Menage had a sore back and had just escaped death, but the mere sight of her quickly aroused him.
“Yeah,” he said, Ginuwine’s song still on his mind. The visit was quickly coming to an end, and Benita gave Menage a kiss on the cheek and told him to call her as soon as he could. As she walked out with Dwight to catch a ride with him, all Menage could do was stare at her apple-shaped ass and press his erection into the bed. Damn! It shook like jelly.
Later that night, close to nine o’clock, Menage pulled into his three-part garage to his four-bedroom mini mansion on South Beach. It also served as an entrance to the stylish home. The sunken living room was decorated with a thirteen-foot Gucci leather sofa with matching loveseats and carpet that was two inches thick. Built into the wall opposite the sofa was an eighty-inch flat screen plasma HDTV. There was a two-person glass elevator on the left side of the screen, and on the right side was a wooden staircase. Both led upstairs to one of his bedrooms. To the far left, behind the elevator, was a state-of-the-art kitchen, fully decked out with blue marble counters and cabinets. A dim glow burst through his glass back door from the green tinted lights in his Olympic size pool. Each bathroom had heated floors and cobblestone shower stalls and hot tubs. Even though his home was fully voice activated, he still found himself giving direct commands to his two German Rottweilers, Vapor and Vigor. They sat side by side, staring at him as he flicked though the channels on the TV. “Vigor.” The dog’s ears perked up energetically. “Beer.” Vigor, the larger of the two dogs, ran toward the kitchen and locked his mouth around the rubber handle near the bottom of the refrigerator. “Good boy, yeah, good boy,” Menage said taking the bottle of Miller Genuine Draft from his mouth. “Vapor, hit the stash spot, boy!” He watched Vapor take off and head for one of the back rooms. In less than two minutes, the dog returned with a bag of weed and without being told, placed it in his owner’s lap. Menage was about to light a blunt when his cell phone chimed. He knew who it was by the tone. “Hey, sexy,” he said pushing Vapor out of his face.
“Boy, where your tail been at? I’ve been calling you all dang day,” said Chandra. She was a flawless black beauty with goals and she was in love with Menage—not for his money or the material things he could give her, but just for being him. She was five foot eleven, slim, and had a lovely figure. She was twenty-seven with no kids, majoring in medicine at Florida State and beside his mother, was the only woman Menage trusted.
“I switched cars and forgot to take my phone with me,” he lied. “Don’t make it happen,” she joked. “Mmm, spring break is coming up, so what do you wanna do?”
Menage pushed Vigor out of the way to stretch out on the sofa and since it was so long, Vigor moved to the middle. “Let’s go deep sea diving again,” he said turning onto his side. His back was still sore.
“You are so nasty, boy,” she giggled. His version of deep sea diving was tying her hands and feet to the bed and going headlong after the grapes that he slid inside of her. “So you miss me, right?”
“You’ll find out when I get you in my arms again,” he said.
“I know that’s right! How’s your mom?”
“Same as yesterday. She asked about you.”
“Well, I’ll call her tomorrow. So what is my big baby doing all by his lonesome in that big ol’ house?”
“Waitin’ for you to turn it into a home.”
Chandra was caught off guard. “So I bet we have a lot to put on the table, huh?” They talked more, but she had to cut the call short since she had to tutor a friend the following day. Menage pushed number five on his Nokia, and the phone at the other end rang four times.
“Y’all shut the hell up and give dat boy his damn bottle!” Menage held the phone away from his ear.
“Hello, who dis?” Katori said in her best ghetto sexy voice.
“What’s really goin’ on?”
“Ooooh, Menage baby, what up, nigga? Please say you ’bout to swing by. I swear I’m tryin’ ta roll out dis piece—plus I’m horny as fuck . . . yeah, my baby daddy locked the fuck back up!” she said smacking her lips.
“Yeah, we can get up tonight,” Menage said thinking about her tight little bubble ass. Katori was only eighteen and already had two kids. She was four foot eleven and had a see-through gap between her legs.
“Yesss, now that I’m feelin’, ’cause you know I be missin’ the dick and how you stretch me open, baby.”
“Yeah, whatever. What time you gonna be ready?” Menage heard a door slam in the background.
“Hold on a sec, boo-bitch. Don’t worry ’bout who I’m talkin’ to and no it ain’t your brother . . . huh?” The phone disconnected. Menage was about to try Plan B—a Hindu chic in Opalocka, but his Nokia chimed.
“Hey, I’m sorry. Dat was my baby daddy crackhead sister. Look, I had to give her a twenty to watch the kids, so you can come right on over.”
He was about to say no, but he thought of how she loved to suck his dick. He was on his way.
* * *
Back at the apartment, Benita was telling her cousin Lisa what had happened at Bayside.
“Girl, you for real?” Lisa asked.
“Yes, it happened so fast,” said Benita.
Lisa turned toward her bedroom mirror. “Well, I’ma take my behind to work. And yes, I’ll see if I can find out how your . . . hero is doing. You sure you ain’t give him no stuff?”
“Lisa!”
“Chill, cuz, just joking. Like, you get a dude to save your life on the first date and I gotta persuade dudes to go downtown.” Lisa ducked the pillow Benita tossed at her. Minutes after Lisa left for work, Benita curled up on the couch to read the latest Honey magazine when the phone rang. The deep voice at the other end and the loud music in the background made her quickly regret picking up the phone. Big Chubb was the owner of the Bounce Back strip club.
“Hey Nita Poo, you off tonight, I already know, but Platinum and Silk can’t find no babysitters, so can you come in?” he shouted.
“Chubby, my cousin is at work and you know I’m scared to catch a cab.”
“I know, but check it: I got some NBA and NFL players in tonight, so I’ma have Dacle come pick you up . . . how ’bout dat?”
Benita rolled her eyes, but at the same time she knew she needed the extra cash. “Okay, Chubby, I’ll be ready.”
“Good lookin’, I owe you one. She’ll be there in half an hour.”
Benita hung up the phone and went into her room to pack a bag. She gathered two sets of bikini tops with matching thongs and black leather form-fitting Prada shorts. An hour later she was in the dressing room at the strip club applying eyeliner. Her body was oiled from head to toe, with a double coat on her plump ass cheeks. Standing in front of the mirror, clad in black pumps and the low-riding shorts and bikini top, she was proud of her 100 percent natural body. As she was about to head up to VIP, two of her fellow dancers stepped into the dressing room.
“Hey, Nita Poo, girl,” cooed the taller of the two.
“Hey, Sexion.” Benita preferred not to be alone with the two lesbians. “Hey Plum.”
“Ah, Nita Poo, do us a favor and watch out for us. There’s fifty in it for you,” said Sexion.
“Do what?” Benita said rolling her neck.
“Girl, relax. Just don’t let nobody walk in on us. Just give us a couple of minutes,” said Plum. Benita held out her hand for the money. Sexion smiled as she reached into her bra to pull out the bills, but in the process her bra popped open, spilling out her round 36Ds.
“Oh, sorry,” Sexion said coyly, hoping Benita would join the fun. Plum sat on the stool by the door on her hands and knees as Sexion pumped her from behind with a strap-on dildo.
“Times up!” Benita said.
“Don’t matter,” Sexion panted, still stroking Plum. “I just wanted you to watch me fuck Plum.” She burst out laughing when Benita raised her middle finger and left the room.
Bounce Back was on fire tonight. Up on stage were five strippers, ass up, face down, moaning and groaning as men sprayed whipped cream on them and then doubled their pleasure in a pussy-eating contest. Red tinted strobe lights flickered throughout the club and Benita could smell weed burning. Over at the bar, a stripper looked over her shoulder as she made her ass clap, while dollar bills fell all around her dark parted thighs. With all this sex and lust in the atmosphere, all Benita could do was think about Menage and hope that he would show up tonight or leave a message on her machine. She shook her head with disapproval as she went up the steps toward the VIP area. Near the pool table, a stripper stood against the wall holding her butt cheeks apart as a man knelt behind her, drinking the beer that another stripper poured down her crack. A loud cheer erupted when he stood up and pointed to the dry floor between the girl’s legs. It was double the fun up in VIP. Benita spotted a stripper she knew by the name of Mink who was only eighteen. She sat between two men, giving them both a hand job. Benita knew it was a contest to see which of the men could hold out the longest, and judging from the way Mink’s eyes were bulging and darting back and forth from dick to dick while biting her lips, it was obvious that she wanted to do more than just use her tiny hands. Even the music was on point; 50 Cent and Lil’ Kim’s “Magic Stick” was blasting full force.
It didn’t take long for Benita to gain attention and be called over to someone’s table. Her shorts fit her snugly, and she noticed her pursuer’s eyes on her pussy as she stood before him at his table. Right away she knew he was in the NBA by his height and the three hundred-dollar bills he laid on the table next to a bottle of Moet. Catching the beat, she started to pull her shorts down while keeping her eyes on his. After stepping out of the shorts, she began humping over the print she saw growing in his jeans. Reaching behind her back, she pulled the string loose on her bikini top just as the remix to David Banner’s “Like a Pimp” filled the joint. Cupping her breasts together, she jiggled them in his face as he tried to lick one of her nipples. Stepping back to show her ass, she looked over her shoulder while pulling up her thong to make it slide deeper into her crack. Backing her ass up, she let out a little squeal when he grabbed her soft hips and pulled her down onto his lap. “Be a good boy, now,” she purred, trying to stay calm while reaching down to remove his hands. His grip was tight, and her struggling caused her ass to grind over his throbbing erection.
“Yeah, ho, that’s it,” he said reaching between her thighs to squeeze her sex through her thong. Benita closed her legs and tried to stand, but his grip was too strong. “Bitch, be fucking still. Just let me pull out so you can ride this dick!” Benita felt her thong being slid to the side.
“Um . . . let’s not do it here,” she said, hoping to make him believe that she was willing to take it elsewhere. “Look, what is wrong with you!” she said trying hard now to release herself from his grip.
“You the one that’s wrong. So quit tripping, ho!” By now she felt his hard penis pressing against her thigh.
“Fuck this!” she said under her breath as she reached for the bottle of Moet. He was too busy trying to enter her to notice the bottle.
“Stupid bitch!” he shouted and pushed her off of him out of sheer frustration. He quickly began wiping off his clothing. Benita tried to bounce, but he grabbed her wrist as she reached for her clothes.
“Ho, what’s your problem?” he hissed.
“Let me go!” she said jerking her wrist, only causing him to grip her tighter. The first backhand stunned her.
“You know who I am?” He reared back to deliver another backhand, but he froze in mid swing as Big Chubb cocked the hammer on his silver and black .357.
“Nita Poo, get your paper and go to my office!” Big Chubb said with a toothpick hanging from the right corner of his mouth. Benita wasn’t even halfway down the steps before Big Chubb hit the NBA player in the jaw, knocking him back and flipping him over the chair. Big Chubb straddled his chest and stuck the barrel into his mouth as blood ran down his cheek. “I don’t give a fuck who you be or what set you claim—none of the shit! But nigga, you done lost your fuckin’ mind to hit one of my girls!” He slid the barrel deeper, watching the man choke. “Breathe through your ass, bitch, ’cause that’s what you is. Oh . . . you a pimp . . . huh . . . what . . . what nigga . . . you can’t talk . . . huh bitch? Don’t cry now!” you can’t talk . . . huh bitch? Don’t cry now!” Keeping the heater in his mouth, Big Chubb reached into his pockets for his stash. Stripping him of his roll, he stood the man up and shoved him toward his two bouncers standing by. “Kick his ass out!” Big Chubb turned to see a few girls looking on in shock. “Get y’all ass back to work and show that dookie hole,” he said grinning and headed out of the VIP section.
Benita was fully dressed and waiting upstairs in Big Chubb’s office, which overlooked the entire club through a one-way mirror. “Chubby, I . . .” Benita immediately started to speak when he stepped inside and closed the door, but he held up his big hands and pointed for her to sit.
“Nita Poo,” he said, sitting on the edge of his desk, “I know you is new, but my girls come first. It was my fault because I pulled Lamont from VIP. I forgot he was up there by his damn self.” He paused to count out eight hundred dollars. “Here, this is for your trouble . . . don’t need no police up in here. Ya feel me, Nita Poo?” Benita nodded. “Well, you still have a job and ya did right, but I’ma let you call it a night. I’ll get one of the girls to take you home.”
“Thank you, Chubby.” She stood up to hug him. “You still my big red teddy bear.”
Later that night, Benita stripped off her clothes and stood in front of the bathroom mirror, thankful that she didn’t have a bruise on her face. Even without the money Chubby gave her she would have kept her mouth shut because she didn’t want her mom up in Kinston to find out that she was stripping. “Dang,” she said seeing that she had no calls on Lisa’s machine. After taking a shower, she went to bed with thoughts of no one other than Menage. She fell asleep five minutes after midnight.
* * *
Menage watched Katori’s tits flop up and down as she rode him while making ugly sex faces.
“Uhhhh, it’s hitting my stomach!” she moaned squeezing his chest. He didn’t worry about her leaving any marks because she bit her nails. As she continued to ride him, he gripped her hips and forced his mind to think of something else other than her fist-tight sex.
Three years earlier, with a bad conduct discharge from the Marines, he moved back home to Miami with four thousand dollars to his name. A few days later, he came across a jit with a stolen Lexus. With his smooth game he drove off with the Lexus, having paid only five hundred for it. With the money he had left, he bought a matching body, identical to the Lexus from the junkyard, and within three weeks he switched the VIN from the junked model to the stolen one, making it a rebirth with a title in hand. He sold the Lexus to a dealership for twenty-four grand and never looked back since. However, his big profits didn’t stop him from always keeping things under control; he had guidelines. Rule number one: No speedballing. His chop shop was currently moving six cars a month as a result of this rule but he made at least ten grand off of every ride. Money was coming in fast, so he got with Dwight who was struggling to make ends meet with his barber shop and the two quickly made a deal to become partners. A month later, MD Beauty Salon opened in Miami and it was the first of four shops. Their goal was to make a million each with their motto, “A two-man team with nothing in between.”
Katori brought him back to the present by sticking her tongue in his ear as she continued to ride him. Pulling her tight, stretch-marked butt cheeks apart, he thrusted himself into her deeply. Then without pulling out, he rolled her over onto her back. Licking the sweat from her neck, he started stroking her as she lifted her legs and locked them hungrily around his waist. Moments later, he flooded the first of a box of five condoms that he had brought along with him as Katori reached down to fondle his balls.