“Word.”
Less than five minutes later, a black Range Rover rounded the corner onto 125th Street, its chromed-out rims and dark tinted windows attracting attention on the streets.
“There they go right there,” Citi said, pointing.
Lola smiled. She couldn’t wait to see Big Kev again.
The Range Rover came to a stop at the corner near the train station, and Lola and Citi walked over. The passenger door swung open, and L climbed out, smiling, dressed in a throwback Lakers jersey, a fitted ball cap, and a gold chain and bracelets.
“What’s up, beautiful?” L said with a smile and an open invitation for Citi to give him a hug, which she did.
Big Kev didn’t attempt to move from behind the steering wheel to greet Lola so eagerly. He remained stoic when the girls climbed into the backseat of the Range. The truck drove off, merging into the Harlem traffic, and they headed north on Eighth Avenue.
Big Kev turned up the music, “Light Up” by Jay-Z and Drake. He took a few pulls from the burning joint held between his fingers before passing it to L, who took a few pulls. He turned behind him to hand Citi the joint for her and Lola to hit.
The men hustled and lived together in a tenement building on 137th Street. The stream of cars on the tree-lined block made it difficult for Big Kev to find a parking space. Once he found one, the foursome climbed out of the Range Rover and headed toward the building.
Big Kev walked into the dark apartment first and switched on the light, followed by Lola, Citi, and L. Citi looked around and was impressed.
The level was comprised of a spacious living room, a main dining area, and a luxurious TV area. The décor, with its stylish sofa, high-end stereo equipment, large LCD TV, and fully equipped kitchen made Citi think about her own home when Curtis was still alive and before their apartment became the hangout spot for everyone in the PJs.
“Y’all are living nice,” Lola uttered, her eyes big as marbles.
“Yeah, we do us,” Big Kev replied dryly.
L made the girls feel more at home than his friend, offering them a drink, some snacks, and showing them a couple of features in the room. Despite his rough image, L was a true gentleman.
Citi knew everything in the room came from drug money. Everything about Big Kev and L screamed out “uptown hustlers.” Citi assumed, by the pricy Range Rover and the tricked-out pad in the tenement building, they were probably ki-a-week niggas.
Citi sat on the couch, and L came over to give her some company. He placed his arm around her and snuggled close. Citi didn’t mind it. He smelled fresh. His cologne opened up her nostrils and triggered her memory. He was wearing Nautica Ocean, the same cologne Curtis used to put on. It was rare to find a young thug like L smelling so good. It was a turn-on for Citi.
Big Kev turned on the 60-inch TV. Lola was seated on the couch. Big Kev decided to roll up another joint. He lost himself in the kitchen, while the others watched music videos and sipped on Hennessy Black.
“So, ladies, y’all staying the night?” L asked.
Lola was ready to say yes, but Citi interrupted her. “Nah, we can’t stay too long. We got business to handle in Queens.”
“Business? What business y’all bitches got goin’ on in Queens?” Big Kev asked harshly. He was a thorough thug and didn’t give a fuck about watching his mouth or impressing his female company.
Citi cut her eyes at him. “Nigga, you ain’t the only one gettin’ paid out there,” Citi replied sharply. “I get my ends too.”
Big Kev chuckled. “What y’all do? Strip? Oh, my bad—let me be politically correct—Y’all dance?”
“No, nigga, we don’t dance. We get fuckin’ money, like y’all do.”
“Oh, word? So y’all some baller bitches, huh?”
“Nigga, do I look like I’m a broke bitch?” Citi stood up so Big Kev could take a better look at her attire. Everything was name brand and expensive.
Big Kev fixed his eyes on Citi’s lustrous style. He then uttered, “You sure ya man ain’t buy you that?”
“Nigga, I ain’t got no man. And I don’t need a nigga to make me look nice and buy me things.”
“Yo, Big Kev, just chill,” L chimed.
“L, I’m just asking questions. Ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ asking our company some questions, right?” Big Kev wetted the joint with his lips.
“Nah, ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ asking questions,” Citi said. “Just watch how you ask ’em.”
Kev chuckled again. He had Citi’s attention. For some reason, she loved his frankness. Big Kev was bombarding her with questions. It made her want to smack him and fuck him at the same time.
It didn’t take long for Lola to disappear with Big Kev into the main bedroom. While Lola got down on her knees and gladly took Big Kev into her mouth, sucking his dick like a porn star in the five-star bedroom, L kept Citi company on the couch.
As the night progressed, L wanted to know more about Citi. He wanted to get closer to her. He wasn’t in a rush to fuck her, like every other nigga she had been with. His conversation was intriguing. When L opened his mouth to speak, Citi immediately knew he was intelligent. The words he used and the shit he was talking to her about made her sit up and listen.
In a strange way, she saw a piece of Curtis in him. He knew how to play chess, he watched programs on CNN, MSNBC, and the Fox Network, he read The Times, he knew history, and he read books. L was impressive. While other thugs were only into getting high, getting money, and fucking bitches, he seemed to want more than that.
Despite her attraction to L and being captivated by him, Citi just couldn’t bypass the fact that he was second string under Big Kev’s wings, and she didn’t do second string. Citi only fucked with first-string niggas in the game. If the man wasn’t a boss—the alpha male of his crew—then Citi didn’t want to deal with him.
In a way, it burned her up that Lola had Big Kev trapped in his bedroom and was probably sucking and fucking the shit out of him. Citi knew she could have thrown it on Big Kev so much better. Her pussy would have turned that massive 235-pound hustler into a cream pop.
Citi had an agenda. She needed to make money. She needed a nigga like Big Kev in her mix. Lola was her friend, but Lola was used to fucking with second-string niggas. Citi thought the couples should have been reversed, she with Big Kev, and Lola seated on the couch with L, since her friend wouldn’t know how to keep her hooks into a nigga like Big Kev.
Citi and L ended up falling asleep on the couch together. They looked like a loving couple, with her nestled in his arms. L held her lovingly. Citi wasn’t used to that kind of affection from a nigga, but she was comfortable.
****
Citi felt herself being nudged by someone. She stirred softly in L’s arms. The nudging continued. “Citi, wake up,” she heard Lola say.
Citi slowly opened her eyes to find Lola standing over her. Lola was fully dressed, but her hair was in disarray, and her clothing was a bit wrinkled. She’d definitely had a good time with Big Kev in the bedroom.
Lola smiled at them. “Y’all look so cute together.”
Citi was still fully clothed and lying against L, his arms wrapped around her like he was securing her from something. Her pants weren’t unbuttoned, and her top was still on. From the faint glow of the television she saw the empty fifth of Hennessy, weed remnants, and uneaten snacks on the cluttered coffee table. It was the first time Citi had ever slept with a nigga into the early morning without having sex. Most niggas would have probably tried to take advantage of her and look for a cheap feel or a blowjob, but surprisingly, L was a gentleman to her all night.
“Fuckin’ Romeo and Juliet,” Big Kev said.
Big Kev was shirtless, exposing his tattoos, hairy chest, and gut, and wearing a pair of beige shorts and flip-flops, looking completely satisfied. He
didn’t have a smile, but Citi knew the look of a nigga content over some pussy when she saw one. He and Lola had spent hours in the bedroom, and there were times when L and Citi could hear the moans, especially Lola’s. He must have been pounding that pussy something serious.
“C’mon, Cit, we out,” Lola said.
Citi raised herself free from L’s gentle hold.
When L woke up himself, Big Kev began to clown him. “What? You in love, nigga?”
L flipped him the bird and then looked at Citi. “You good?”
Citi nodded. She collected her sneakers and jacket.
L wanted her to stay, but Big Kev thought otherwise. The girls gathered up their belongings in the apartment.
“How y’all gettin’ home?” L asked.
“Same way they got here.”
“Yo, that’s some fucked-up shit, Kev.”
Big Kev didn’t really care for either girl. His preference was Hispanic ladies. He loved their style, their language, and felt they were better bitches in the bedroom and better girlfriends to hold him down. Lola was just something to keep his dick entertained.
“Yo, I’ma put y’all in a cab,” L said.
“Thank you,” Citi replied.
L walked them outside while Big Kev went into his bedroom scratching his nuts. Big Kev didn’t give Lola a second thought. Citi was the cuter one in his eyes, and he wanted to fuck her too.
The black four-door Lincoln, a gypsy cab with the Haitian driver behind the wheel, sat idling outside the tenement building. The early-morning hours were quiet, and Harlem seemed still for a moment—no traffic, no people.
Lola climbed into the backseat, but Citi hesitated.
L stood close to her, anticipating a kiss or something. “I had a good time wit’ you,” he said.
“I did too.”
“So when I’m gonna see you again?”
“Call me.”
“You know I will.”
Citi smiled as she leaned into his hug. L hugged her with so much passion, it seemed like he didn’t want to let her go.
Unbeknownst to L, Citi was only out for her come-up, and she had Big Kev in her sights. Her way of thinking didn’t allow her to fall for L’s generous manners, never mind his thuggish appearance. Being second string blocked any chance of her being serious with him.
Big Kev appeared to be the one with the connect and the resources. He was the one she needed to get alone and have a talk with—and if need be, fuck the shit out of—to capture his undivided interest.
Citi released herself from L’s mellow hold and climbed into the backseat of the cab. She smiled at him.
L leaned into the front passenger window and handed the driver forty dollars. “Yo, you make sure to get these ladies home safely, a’ight?” he said with firmness in his voice.
The driver took the money and nodded.
L looked back at Citi smiling. “Yo, hit me when you hit ya pad, to make sure that y’all got home safe, okay?”
Citi nodded.
L backed away from the cab, and the driver slowly drove off. L kept his vision on the cab until it turned the corner.
“Damn, he’s cute. You ain’t fuck him?”
“No. But you fucked Big Kev. I heard y’all.”
Lola grinned. “Damn. You heard us?”
“Well, I heard you.”
“Hey, he got a big dick, and that shit was good.”
“Ho.”
“Hey, wit’ dick that good inside of me, I’ll be any ho that nigga wants me to be.”
Citi and Lola laughed.
The cabdriver remained indifferent at the girls’ vulgar conversation in the backseat of his Lincoln. They didn’t give a fuck who was listening. Lola went on to give details about her freaky rendezvous with Big Kev like they were in the privacy of their bedroom.
The girls made it home to Queens thirty minutes later. When Citi walked into her apartment, it was dark and empty. There was no loud music or a mess of hood niggas lingering around in the living room. It was obvious that Cane wasn’t home.
She went straight into her bedroom and started undressing. She dived into her bed, forgetting to hit L back to let him know she had reached home. Her mind was on sleep and the next day. L wasn’t a primary. He was cute, but not her cup of tea. But she planned on using him to get closer to Big Kev. L was the pawn in her chess game.
21
The winter months were brutal once again. It seemed like spring and summer had passed by in one big blur. It was a gusty February day and a cold twenty-two degrees with snow in the forecast. Citi hated the winter. She stood in the plush bedroom near the window gazing at the cold she had to endure in a few hours. She didn’t want to leave his place. The ice and cold frosting up the windows made her want to get underneath the covers with him and become wrapped in his arms once more.
“I need to move to fuckin’ Miami, fo’ real,” she muttered to herself.
Citi turned to see that he was out like a light and naked under the covers. Dressed in her panties and bra, her pussy was still throbbing from the way he’d fucked her earlier. They had fucked like porn stars. She was ready for round two with him, but decided to let him sleep a little longer. She had put it on him, rode his thick dick like a jockey on a horse, and when they both came, the bedroom walls seemed to shake.
****
Citi’s dealings with L had been up and down during the previous months. L had treated her like the queen she was. He would take her out to eat at some of the best restaurants in Manhattan, telling her at times to order whatever she wanted. He was willing to take her out of town with him, put her up in high-end suites luxurious hotels, and take her out to tour the city. He was in love with her, and since their first meeting in the club, his way of thinking toward her had never changed. He wanted to wife her up, but Citi was never into him like that.
Citi had never met this kind of thug before. He was street-smart and book-smart, and he had that thug loving that many women craved. She had fucked him a few times, and the sex was good, but Citi couldn’t shake the fact that he wasn’t the boss of his own shit. She felt that he was just too sweet for her tea, and she was only using him to get closer to Big Kev.
L steadily chased her, but he wasn’t stupid. He always had been cautious. He’d noticed Citi’s attraction to Big Kev. He would catch her staring at his friend, and sometimes catch them having private conversations when they thought no one was watching. It angered him, but he decided not to trip over it. He wasn’t one to get upset over some petty shit. His mamma raised him better than that. He understood that there were plenty more fish in the sea. So sometimes when Citi called, he wouldn’t answer. And when she and Lola took that time-consuming trip by train or cab into Harlem, he’d suddenly make himself unavailable.
Citi didn’t give a fuck. She had a new interest in her life— a nigga who held down blocks and had a street reputation. He was the king on the chessboard, not the pawn. He had started pushing up on her recently.
Meanwhile, Lola was still fucking and sucking Big Kev. She had become his personal whore. Big Kev never made one trip to Queens to see Lola or come to pick her up, and he never took her anywhere except to his bedroom, the backseat of his truck, or some public area in Harlem to get a quick blowjob. Occasionally, he would trick on her, take her to McDonald’s or a movie theater to get his dick sucked in the dark, or order her some Chinese food so they could stay in his bedroom to watch movies and fuck.
****
Citi was smoking a cigarette as she gazed at Maino asleep in his king-sized bed. It felt unbelievable for a moment. She was fucking her father’s best friend, and her godfather.
Maino had low-key been pushing up on her. He didn’t care about her age. She would be almost seventeen, and statutory rape was the farthest thing from his mind. He had been
coming around the family more often, pretending to be concerned with the kids. He started talking to Chris, advising him and the family here and there, stating he would always be there for them, and that he was still actively searching for Curtis’ killers.
Maino was always in Citi’s ear, praising her beauty, telling her things she liked to hear, and buying her things she liked to wear. Then he started to buy her little trinkets—watches, earrings, bracelets, the things she loved to have and parade around in. The gold had her eyes, and the wealth and status had her heart, and her body language around him made it clear she was interested. They soon hooked up, unbeknownst to her brothers.
Citi would leave the apartment in her sexiest attire, eager to meet with Maino discreetly at a location he’d chosen, to be safe from any eyes in the hood. She would quickly get into his truck, and he would whisk her away to his crib in Brooklyn. Sometimes during the ride, she would suck his dick in the truck, giving him a sneak preview of what was to come.
When Citi first fucked him, it almost felt unreal. They were in the backseat of his tinted truck, parked in a dark alleyway. Maino had the gun in the front seat. Citi had come to meet him in her tight jeans and jacket. She climbed over the backseat, and Maino got a good look at her perfect ass. Maino climbed in the backseat after her. His husky presence excited Citi. She couldn’t wait to fuck him. His thick beard screamed at her and his beady eyes locked onto her angelic beauty.
“Ya fuckin’ beautiful, Citi.”
Citi smiled.
Maino pushed Citi on her back, and Citi gazed up at him, ready for the beast to ravage her body. It was his to take. She’d blocked the memory of him and her father being best friends. She didn’t want to spoil the mood.
Maino had Citi out of her top and was working on her jeans. With one smooth motion, he removed her jeans. When she was in her panties and bra, he gazed at her for a moment. It felt like he was searching for something, but he was truly admiring her young body.
He quickly undid his jeans and pulled out his large manhood. With an erection, he was nine inches long and thick, almost looking artificial. He started to kiss her navel and then went down on his pretty young prize.
Guard the Throne Page 18
