by Weber, Carl
I worried Nadja might return from her dealings and have an unimpeded, deluxe view before I could explain why Paris was suddenly back in my life.
I slung her over my shoulder, eliciting a yelp as I stormed off the porch, kicked the door open, then went inside with my woman.
My woman.
For a serial womanizer like me my sudden need for ownership felt oddly right.
The farmhouse, while looking basic from the outside, was a testament to modern amenities and privacy; something the original owners saw fit to do before Nadja paid them for their discretion and purchased it for some “big-time hunters.” I touched a keypad near the wall, scanning through streaming audio selections until Jamiroquai’s “Corner of the Earth” played softly throughout the place. The button beside it activated the fireplace for which it wasn’t cold enough, but mirrored my burning desire for her.
As I carried Paris toward the oversized bed, I worked her skimpy little pants until they came down, exposing nothing but a nice derriere and thong. I bit at one of her golden delicious ass cheeks then gave her bottom a smack. She giggled in response, singing, “Oooo. Get nasty, daddy!”
I dropped her onto the furs adorning the foot of the bed and watched her slide. She removed her blouse then as she unfastened her bra and slowly exposed each breast.
“Your shirt first. And make it hot,” she instructed as she rubbed on her clit through her thong. Her moans made it hard to concentrate, but I obliged. My black shirt reeked of spent gun powder, so I was happy to remove it, going extra sexy like I was her private toy.
“Damn, boy. I love your hardness,” she cooed while she crawled over to the edge of the bed and lazily licked every crease of my abs with her tongue as if ice cream were running down them and she didn’t want to miss a drop.
When she touched my tender ribs, I flinched a little. Barely noticeable, but with her lips against me it was easy to detect.
She looked up apologetically. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Let me kiss it and make it better.”
When I dropped my pants, she slid her hand into my boxer briefs and gently cradled my balls.
“Damn,” I moaned as I felt hot breath tantalizing my penis.
“Boy, you don’t know how bad I want to suck you right now,” Paris growled, sending my hard-on to almost painful levels. “Can I . . . suck it?” she teased, her voice doing things tome.
“Yes,” I gasped, unsure of how long I could stand before her like this.
“Like this?” she asked, her voice raising an octave. “Mmm. You taste good, daddy. Want to taste my pussy, too?”
“Yes,” I said, almost grunting as I licked my lips. “I’d like that so much.”
Paris obliged, turning onto her back while she continued sucking me off. She grasped the back of my knees to steady herself on the mattress then amazingly kicked her body up into a headstand.
I appreciated her presentation, showing her just how much as I reached for her waist to steady her and drilled my tongue deep within her folds alternating between that and gently munching on that clit to drive her crazy. Still upside down, she cried out while sucking me, never backing off while I plunged my dick in and out of her beautiful sloppy mouth.
Before she passed out, I flipped her upright by her waist then entered her while she wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Uh-huh. Mmm hmm,” she moaned with her eyes closed as I penetrated her.
“Look at me,” I whispered.
Uncharacteristically quiet, she complied, slowly lifting her head to gaze into my eyes.
“I love you, Paris,” I gushed, getting equally lost in her seductive light brown pools.
I pumped harder, building in intensity as I refused to let her look away.
“I . . . I . . .” she stuttered as another orgasm consumed her, her sweet honey flowing down more and more by the minute. I took one of her legs and raised it to me, going deeper inside if such a thing is possible. “Oh! Oh! Oh, Niles!” she rambled, giving in to her sweet, sweaty body as she worked to give it all to me. Her surrender was a beautiful thing as she screamed out like someone having a vision, “I love you! I love you! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
I dropped her leg and took her with me onto the bed, both of us crashing rudely onto the expensive fur throw as a crash of my own lay ahead.
Paris cackled as she dug many a nail into my ass, prodding me with, “Give me your love, baby. Let me feel it. You gonna let me feel it?”
Grunting, I redoubled my efforts, coiling and releasing like a snake as I fucked her vigorously toward the magnificent end to this stanza. Paris wrapped her legs around me, meeting the challenge as we rolled about. For we fucked like we fought; and fought like we fucked.
A shudder followed by a rush from deep within signaled the moment Paris had demanded of me was close at hand. She smiled, feeling my body’s message as she surrendered another orgasm of her own to me. “Ooooh,” she sang wonderfully.
“Paris, I . . .”
She clutched my head to her chest and held tightly. With a tickle of her tongue in my ear, her ragged breath begged for me to join her.
And I did, my body trembling and shaking with a final hopeless attempt at keeping the monster at bay.
In an explosion of ecstasy, I gave it up to Paris. Surrendered my seed as my body shorted out from the intensity of our lovemakin’.
I’d known passion before, but in reflecting on it later, a component was always missing.
Atop the stripped bed, we cuddled tenderly with my arms around her waist, our fingers intertwined. And as our hearts slowed, sleep was our reward for survival.
But sleep doesn’t always grant us escape from the demands of the waking world.
Something I would learn shortly.
Rio
66
One of the major tenets my parents drilled into all of us kids was to always have a backup plan when it came to business and dealing with people.
“People are not always reliable and trust that often they come with their own agenda that has nothing to do with you or even what they promised,” LC told us a million times. “You can never truly depend on anyone other than family, so as long as you were dealing with civilians make sure they know your value.” As tired as I had gotten from these talks being drilled into our heads I had to admit they were now saving my ass. Eduardo’s threats, joking or not, made me realize that I couldn’t afford to get comfortable in my position at his club. He wasn’t used to Black-Amex-having niggas that didn’t need his dollars to live the high life. If Lando hadn’t insisted on me using an alias I would have flossed the Duncan pedigree quick. Let him know there were some rich-ass young black men who lived the five-star life without any help from trick-ass wannabe pimps like his ass. I knew women that dealt with this sugar-daddy shit all the time and maybe it worked for them but he’d be six feet under if he tried to “buy” me again.
“Hey, Rio,” the bartender greeted me as I entered the bar area. “Trying out a new specialty cocktail. I need to get your opinion.” He slid a green-colored drink toward me.
I took a sip. “Nice.” I stepped away to check on the new uniforms I’d ordered for the cocktail waitresses. They were sexy without being overt. I figured that would discourage the female customers from having drama when their boyfriends leered at the waitresses. Eduardo joined me in the office as the girls modeled the outfits.
“Much better!”
“Might save us some lawsuits,” I laughed.
“Too much cleavage, a few husband left on stretchers,” he added, throwing up his hands in the drama sign. “That DJ you hired for the weekend. Is he as good as the last one?”
“Nobody can rival DJ PLUS 1NE but everybody’s calling Dr. Zeus the Second Coming and he’s never played out of the States so there’s a real buzz on him. The VIP section is booked with a waiting list a mile long so I think people are up on his talent.”
“You really came through. You give people chances and you never know how it’s going to turn out b
ut in your case you were more than just a pretty face.”
“’Scuse me?”
“Rio, you told me yourself you never finished university so who knows what you are capable of? You came with no track record and I gave you a chance.”
“University? Have you ever heard of Harvard Law School?” I asked his bitch ass.
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, I’m here because I got accepted into that school and it’s not what I want to do. When I set my mind to something I’m all about succeeding at the highest level. I don’t just talk about it . . . I be about it,” I schooled him.
“If you say so but I am fine. It’s working well.”
“So I’m going to get my paper on Monday?” I reminded him but he just looked at me like we were talking different languages. I was ’bout to close that language barrier quick since he didn’t seem to get it. “My paycheck?”
“It’s only been a week. I like to pay people on a monthly basis. Makes it easier.”
“For who? Shit I like to see my money once a week.” It wasn’t even that I needed that little bit of paper to survive or nothing, but the principle. Who the fuck gets paid once a month? “Yeah, that’s not working for me.”
“Fine. Got it. So I assume you have your work papers? Your permit that says you’re legally able to make a living in this country?” He smiled, even though his words weren’t measuring up to his tone at all.
“Yeah, I’m gonna get them this week.”
“Well, soon as you get them let me know and I will cut you a check.”
“No problem.” I got up and left the room. See this wasn’t the kind of shit I’d ever had to deal with back home. Folks wouldn’t try to stiff me or fuck with my money. Made me want to pick up the phone and call Vegas, but I knew something was going down with him at home and the last thing he needed was to rescue his baby brother being taken advantage of, especially when I could handle it myself. I marched up to the DJ booth and caught Dr. Zeus unloading his MacBook.
“Wassup, Rio!” We bumped fists. I’d only met him once but we ran in the same places, and when it came to real club life even a city like New York got small.
“Look, I got a hookup for a gig in Paris this week. I can put you down. Three nights, better pay, and, well, it’s Paris. You got to see the Eiffel Tower.”
“I’m with that.”
“But it’s not looking like this is gonna pan out. You can keep the advance and I’ll get you set up in France by tomorrow.”
“Sweet. Looks like I’m on vacay.” DJ Dr. Zeus lifted up his computer and placed it back in his bag. As I turned to walk DJ out we were stopped by Eduardo hurrying over to us.
“Everything all right?” He offered a warm smile as if shit hadn’t just turned rotten as hell and left a sour smell in the air.
“Yeah, nice meeting you.” Dr. Zeus nodded as he headed out the door.
“Where is he going?” Eduardo asked, confused as fuck.
“Yeah, this isn’t going to work,” I let him know.
“Excuse me?” He was now more than confused. I could see the sparks of anger jumping off of him.
“See, I needed to make sure that you weren’t going to try to fuck me when you realized that I was never going to fuck you again.”
“Why you talk like that?” He tried to pull the innocent act but I couldn’t buy that.
“See, Eduardo, you don’t know me, because if you did you’d understand that I will never need anyone like you. Your work ethics are fucked and I ain’t got time for that. So I took a job at a well-known club in Paris. And the owner is not going to try and bully me. She’s not that type.”
“But I was just kidding.” He gave an award-winning try.
“And you will pay me for this week . . . in cash. Unless you want everything I’ve done this last week to be erased. I’m able to hire every one of your staff to come and work for me for better consistency.”
“I will not pay you one dime until you produce papers.” He got up in my face threateningly but I had something for his ass.
“In one week I learned everything that I need to about the way you do business. That watered-down alcohol. The underage girls you allow to drink here, and the fact that you’re cleaning money for some very dangerous men. Want me to keep my mouth closed then pay me now . . . and in cash.”
“You have no idea who I am,” he threatened.
“No, Eduardo, you are the one that has no idea who I am. You attempt to fuck with me and I will make sure that you are destroyed.”
“You couldn’t.”
“Do you know the Santa Maria di Gesu family?” I almost smiled at the undisguised shock on his face as he nodded yes. “Well, they owe someone very close to me a favor. Do you understand what I’m saying? So instead of me collecting on that favor you should probably just pay me. Now, motherfucker!” I growled as he quickly pulled the wad of cash out of his pocket and peeled off $1,000. “I’m thinking my work deserved a little more compensation.”
He gave me another thousand dollars before getting the hell away from me.
“I hope to never see you again!” he yelled as I sauntered out the door ready for a new adventure. This time I had promised myself to follow Vegas’s rule number one.
Niles
67
I awoke to the soft light of the crackling fireplace, the rest of the cabin bathed in darkness except for the random glow from electronic displays.
One of those displays was blinking and emitted a sound barely noticeable over the Chris Botti streaming through the speakers in the cabin.
We had company.
I looked around, regaining my bearings and adjusting to the darkness. An empty bottle of wine lay on the floor beside the bed and the essence of lovemaking hung in the air. Paris was snoring after what had been our third session of letting bygones be bygones. But when I stirred, she sat up.
“Huh? Whazzat?” she mumbled, not sure what she was saying, but trying to sound alert.
I smiled fondly and hugged her before kissing her on her cheek. “Nothing,” I said calmly. “Just remembered I left the guns outside. Go back to sleep.”
“Word? All right,” she clowned, eyes already half closed as she plummeted back onto the mattress, free to dream whatever.
I threw on some clothes, grabbed my phone then stepped onto the porch, warily taking in the still of the night. Nothing unusual was nearby except Paris’s rented Volvo, reminding me I had a flat to change come morning. Checking my phone, I saw I’d missed several calls in the last hour. I picked up my gun I’d left on the porch during my struggle with Paris and chambered a round, taking the safety off. The weapons on the table out back could wait a little longer. I looked up the road past Paris’s car in the direction of the gate before leaping off the porch. Charting my path off-road, I broke into a sprint toward it, unsure of what awaited me.
Minutes later, I arrived at my destination, remaining cloaked in darkness while I made sure this wasn’t an ambush. A truck sat parked at the gate with its engine running as I slipped up on it, my gun aimed at where I thought a person would be inside the cab.
Upon making myself visible and that I was armed, the truck door opened and someone stepped out, their hands above their head.
“What took you so long?” Nadja asked as I trudged up to the gate, her headlights blinding me.
“Sorry. Was sleeping,” I growled in response as I punched in the code to disarm the alarm and open the gate. “Anyone in the truck with you?” I asked casually, pretending her answer would be no big deal either way while keeping my finger on the trigger. I was prepared to squeeze off two quick rounds into the passenger seat if it came to it.
“No. Of course not,” she answered.
“Then turn off those fuckin’ high beams,” I groused, finally slipping on the gun’s safety. I followed Nadja over to the truck where she nixed the headlights.
“Why’d you change the gate code?” Nadja asked as expected. Well, so much for putting things off.
“Just a precaution. Can never be too careful,” I replied as I went around to the passenger side of the truck. On its door was a magnetic sign that read PIERRE’S WILD GAME & SMOKED MEATS. Cute. “What if you didn’t come back and somebody else decided to pay me a visit?” I proposed, nervously feeling I needed to say more. Actually, I only changed the code after Paris showed up. To protect her.
As Nadja began to put her ride in gear, I placed my hand up, signaling her to stop.
“No. Let’s go over it here,” I said cautiously.
“Why? You’re saying I can’t go back to the cabin? That’s a bunch of rubbish!” she howled.
“I have company, s’all,” I said, looking away.
“Paris, or whatever her real name is, is back, huh? After what you told me, too? You bastard. You bloody bastard.”
“Hey, this was totally unexpected. But I am happy about it. That should count for something, right?”
“What about your promise? To get back into work. No distractions?”
“Okay. So that’s how it’s gonna be, right? Well, whatcha got for me?” I asked, extending my hand. “Might as well get this over with. We’re still professionals, right?”
She handed over the folder as I turned on the interior light with a punch of the overhead button. The file was thicker than usual, possibly symbolizing the level of difficulty of the job.
“First. Let me make this clear. This is a solo hit, not some team thing. You do not involve that woman in any capacity. You do not share any of the intel with that woman. Or so help me, I’ll blow the whole thing up. Got it?” she threatened.
“Totally,” I replied just wanting to finish this convo and get back to bed.
“The customer is a bloke by the name of Salvatore Dash. He wants a business rival forcibly retired, but doesn’t want to go through proper channels within his organization. And he wants a brown face to do it, but he fears the locals might have some misguided sense of loyalty to this bloke and either botch the job or alert him,” Nadja recited as if reading a dating profile instead. I almost waited for Salvatore’s turnoffs and turn-ons.
