Paper Dolls

by Sienna Mynx

  She lifted on her knees and he reached between them to grab his dick and hold it steady for her descent. His eyes rolled back in his head when the melting walls of her tight pussy seized him. Valentina whispered how much she liked being fucked, and began to rise and fall with mounting speed. She gently caressed the nape of his neck and kissed his brow. She bounced like an Olympian on his dick. Her corded locs tossed left and right. She only slowed a few times on her descent to roll her hips and take him balls deep. She was good. Damn good. She knocked the breath out of his lungs.

  “Yes!” he cried out. He ached deep in his pelvis, dick, and balls were both ready to explode. But he had to resist. He refused to break. She was his. Every time he had her he felt the need to run a marathon. Go the distance. He had to learn to savor the privilege of being the man who captured and owned the heart of Valentina Diamond.

  “Damn!” he grabbed her by the hips and slowed her ride down. “Fuck, girl. You killing a man.”

  She looked at him confused.

  “Slow down,” he smiled.

  She grinned and nodded. She eased up off his dick and left it glistening with her essence. Earl stretched out over her. The perfume of their sex unfurled in his nostrils. His kisses traced up from her pussy to her neck. She worked her hips against his erection and he slipped inside her once more. His boys said he was pussy whipped. But he saw how the hounds howled when she passed through a room. Pussy whipped or not, he’d fuck any man up who dared to try to come between them.

  He reclaimed possession of her quick darting tongue, and drank from her sweet breath. His hand covered the curves he worshiped with slow exploring caresses. Valentina hooked one leg around his waist, digging the heel of her foot into the dimple above his clenched ass cheeks. Earl reached over and grabbed the foil-packaged rubber and ripped it free. He quickly worked the condom on, while continuing to pepper kisses and teasing licks over her breasts and down between the valley. She ran her hands over his shaven scalp as if it were a crystal ball, making him rock hard, and a bit desperate to love her.

  Finally sheathed, he thrust the covered head of his penis into her and shuddered again with the urge for release. His body responded after several long deep strokes that left him clenching his teeth and balling his fists. Valentina was masterful. She moved her body in perfect harmony with his. It was like making music while they fucked. It was always about the melody. When they thrust and grooved he gave it to her, and she was ready to receive him.

  Desperate for more, he continued to fuck her with his hip rotation. His eyes opened and focused on love. He stared at her as she slid up and down the silk sheets in time with his thrusting. The pleasure on her face kept him going, kept him from releasing, broke his ego and his pride.

  “I love you,” he professed. He held tight to her hips and pumped harder and faster to drive his long cock in and out of her juicy pussy. Valentina locked her thighs and both legs around his waist. She bounced on the sheet beneath him. He dropped on top of her and they fucked with no restraint. They fucked until his balls emptied every ounce of his seed into the reservoir of his condom. Earl had to remember how to breathe. He gasped for air. When he stroked her back she shivered. She moved her hips and he groaned. He couldn’t let go of the pleasure just being buried inside of her brought.

  “You okay?” he panted.

  He lifted his head.

  “I’m okay, baby. We’re okay,” she smiled. AK-47, known to the people closest to him as Earl, was in love.

  Valentina sighed and stared up at the ceiling. With him buried deep inside of her, and resting in her arms, only one thought came to her mind. Who was Matt dating?

  Chapter Twelve

  Believe In Yourself

  “Hey, Matt! I need to—”

  Valentina pushed the door open to the recording studio as she spoke. It was the sound of soft girlish giggles that greeted her first. She paused. Matt’s chair turned. Valentina swallowed her gum, and stared into the heavy lashed eyes of a petite raven-haired Asian girl who was seated on his lap. She looked to be in her early twenties, if not younger, and extremely comfortable with being embraced by him.

  Valentina was speechless. And she was never speechless.

  “Hi!” the woman said. “Wait, I know who you are. You’re Valentina Diamond! From the Black Diamonds! Right? Matt told me he was working with you.”

  Valentina’s brows drew together in disapproval. Her eyes narrowed on the girl as she let the door close behind her. They then cut to Matt for an explanation. Since when did he allow his pop-tarts in the recording studio? Since when did he date pop-tarts? Mattel rested his elbow on the side of the chair. He propped his chin between his index finger and thumb. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans, with a matching Miami Heat cap pulled down so low she barely saw his eyes. But she knew they were focused on her. The young woman rose and stepped directly to Valentina. She wore a tiny jean skirt that barely made it down her hips. The approach was her first mistake.

  “Hi, my name is Tracy,” she extended her hand. “I just love The Diamonds. Their latest album is the bomb.”

  Flattering the singing group that kicked her out was her second mistake.

  Valentina refused to shake her hand. A deep blush stained the girl’s cheeks. Confused by the chilly reception she turned back to Matt. “Well I guess I’ll go, how about tonight? Seven maybe?”

  “I’ll call you,” Mattel said.

  “Nice to meet you,” she replied as she walked out. Valentina rolled her eyes and closed the door behind her.

  “Who was that?” Valentina asked.

  “That was rude,” he said.

  “What? This is a place of business. Not groupie central. I come here to be serious, not get mobbed by fans. And apparently she’s a fan of The Diamonds, not me. That heffa ain’t stupid, she knows what she said.”

  Matt just stared at her.

  Valentina felt the hot burn of shame in her gut. She was overreacting and he could see it. “Is she the girl you’re seeing?” she asked.

  “I thought we were supposed to start this evening? You’re early,” he answered.

  “Right, I wanted to talk to you. I was on my way to see AK and I decided to stop by. I um, I was wondering if today you’ll let me lay down the instrumental with my guitar. It’s out in my truck.”

  “We tried it already. It doesn’t work with that song,” Matt said.

  “I was practicing this morning.” She checked her watch. “I think I found out what was wrong. Like I said I got to meet AK, but instead of having your crew up in here this evening, how about just you and me do it freestyle. Give me another chance to prove it to you.”

  Matt sighed.

  “Please, Matt?”

  “Why don’t we try it with Entice? That’s the perfect track. We still haven’t found the right mix with that song.”

  “Are you listening to me? I can do this. It’ll work,” she pleaded.

  “Damn it, Valentina. At some point you have to let someone lead in your life. It’s not about control. I’m trying to help here,” he said.

  “You know what, forget it. Why don’t you call your little honey back and play producer with her? I don’t need your macho bullshit.” She turned and snatched open the door to storm out. Matt got up and went after her. Valentina reached the studio door, she yanked on it hard just as his hand went up and forced it back shut. Dropping her head she was too embarrassed to look at him.

  “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really upset?” he asked in a voice low with concern.

  “Who says I am?” she mumbled.

  “Every time we get close to finishing a song you pull this. Even your friends heard the sample and loved it. When are you going to trust the music? Trust me? Trust yourself again, Valentina? Get out of your own head?”

  “You done?” she asked.

  “Come back when you can hear me. Until then don’t waste my damn time. Yeah. We’re done.” He walked off. Valentina looked back at him. He returned to the recordin
g studio with the slam of his door. For a minute she contemplated going after him, and explain that she did trust him. She knew in her heart she only got one chance to do a comeback, before she was forever shelved as a fluke or a forgotten nobody. It had to be just right.

  But excuses made her sound pathetic. Like some emotional cripple constantly in need of reassurance. That wasn’t Valentina Diamond. Hell she grew up on the streets of Brooklyn between the homes of aunts and uncles. She fought for everything in life. She could fight for this. She would.

  Valentina’s chest felt tight. The urge to cry was overwhelming. She hurried out of the studio. Once inside of her truck she dug out her cell phone. Her instinct was to call Matt and apologize. However she still didn’t understand what happened between them, what he had done wrong, and why she was so damn angry with him.

  Forget him. You don’t need his approval. It’s your reputation on the line…

  She dialed Raven. She sped out of the driveway and down the street. She burned a trail of tire treads in the gravel.

  “Hey, Valentina, what is it?” Raven asked.

  “You busy?”

  “I got ten minutes then I’m in a meeting.” Raven sighed. “What’s up with you?”

  “I just fought with Matt, and I feel sick about it.”

  “Really? Why?” Raven looked up. Kevin stuck his head in the door, tapped his watch to signal it was time. She nodded, pleading with her eyes for him to stall. He smiled and walked out.

  “He says I’m trying to sabotage the album with my fear. Well he didn’t say it like that, but I don’t know, Rae, it might be true. The man has been working with me for close to a year now and I can’t get out of his way. Hell I can’t get out of my own way.”

  “Why do you think that is, Valentina?” Raven asked.

  “Maybe music just isn’t my thing anymore. Maybe I should just take a break. I don’t know. I can get back into my poetry. I’ve always been a poet. And lets face it, you make more money writing the songs than singing them.”

  “True. But you make even more money if you write and sing them,” Raven said.

  Valentina sighed. “I dunno. I just don’t know.”

  “Valentina, you love to sing. You’ve been singing since you were three years old. No one has a voice like you, sweetie. C’mon. Fear isn’t your style. Right?”

  That used to be her motto. Whenever her best friends would question her determination to be at the top of the charts and her relentless pursuit of fame, she’d simply tell them: ‘fear isn’t my style.’ Valentina wiped at her tears with one hand. She steered her truck with the other. “I’m so damn pigheaded. He probably wants to be done with me anyway,” she pouted.

  Raven laughed. “I doubt that.”

  “I’ll call Matt and apologize. If he isn’t with that skank.”

  “Skank?” Raven asked.

  “Yes I saw his girlfriend. She looks a mess. I think she’s in pre-school.”

  Raven laughed again.

  “What’s so funny? I’m serious.”

  “Okay, sweetie. Time’s up. I have to go. Let me know how things are. Check in on Zephyr. She drank a little too much wine last night and you know she doesn’t drink. How was she when you dropped her home?”

  “Drunk,” Valentina said.

  “Check on our girl.”

  “Okay, bye,” Valentina said.

  Valentina turned off 27th Avenue onto 183rd street. Soon she arrived in the heart of her old hood. The flea market parking lot was crammed with cars. Restored Cadillacs, Cutlass Supremes, and Impalas all ranged from shades of emerald green with bowling ball paint swirls on the finish. Low rider tires with spinning rims and graphic art painted on the hood of most cars gave each vehicle signature flare. Each vehicle blared a rap song of the driver’s choosing, as if the cars were in a shouting match with each other. The flea market was a hot spot for everything from fake designer bags, to diamond encrusted teeth fitted for your smile. It was located in the epicenter of a plaza that stretched a block long. Hair salons, nail shops, liquor stores, were just a few of the stores many were passing in and out of. It was also home to AK’s recording studio: The Beat Machine. Local rappers scrambled for the opportunity to pay for a session behind those doors.

  He once told Valentina the studio had to be in the heart of the hood because that’s where his inspiration came from. Valentina thought it was bullshit. And it was. Earl Jones, better known to the world, as AK-47 was very conscious about maintaining his street cred, only to protect the lie. He came from a working class family. He only turned to music when his parents died in a car accident. She put on her sunglasses. She drove through clusters of young people.

  Most of the men wore white t-shirts and pants that hung without belts below their hips. These men laughed and drank, or just leaned on their cars, profiling young women as the ladies came and went from out of the stores’ doors. Valentina hoped to slip in and out without being recognized.

  “Shit I’m early,” she said when she didn’t see his car.

  She contemplated not going inside. Valentina couldn’t decide what would be worse, the thugs in the parking lot, or the pretenders inside the studio? Rolling her eyes she grabbed her purse and got out.

  “Wsup, shawty?” a young man yelled. Valentina locked her car. She wore tight hip-hugging jeans that were low enough to show her pierced navel, and the tribal tattoo stamped into her skin just above the dimple in her ass. Her red sleeveless halter-top stopped just below her breasts. It fit on her snug and flattering. With sunglasses on, and her dreadlocks picked out of the white wraparound band she wore around her head, she surveyed those around her.

  “Oh shit! Yo! Yo! That’s Valentina, AK’s bitch!”

  Valentina narrowed her eyes on the man who insulted her. His friends howled with laughter. Her temper flared, she had to literally talk herself back down. Turning she marched to the studio doors. Behind her the catcalls continued as one man professed his love, and another began to sing one of her songs off key. She thought someone offered her sex. She blocked it all out. That’s what keeping it real felt like each time she entered AK’s world.

  At the door she keyed in the code and disappeared inside. A milky cloud of weed engulfed and strangled her. Its pungent smoke was so thick that without the distinct smell she’d think the place was on fire. Don’t get her wrong she loved a good toke every now and then, but the place was just rank.

  AK’s current song that topped the charts blared through the wall-mounted speakers. The front of the place looked more like a club than a recording studio. There were dinner tables for congregating, and a pole for dancers to spin off of. There was a pool table with a game in full swing. Several heads turned and then returned to their conversations when Valentina arrived. All but one.

  New to the Mob Squad, Dirty Red was the only female rapper in the clique. She pushed up from her seat with a wicked smirk to her fiery red lips and approached. Valentina eyed the cut-off daisy dukes and tube top that revealed arms laced with tattoos.

  “Wsup, Val?”

  Valentina said nothing. Dirty Red also happened to be the woman AK-47 claimed as his girlfriend before they hooked up. So the animosity was blatant and exhausting whenever the two of them were in a room. She decided to head to his office, but Dirty Red stepped in her way. “AK ain’t here, boo. I’ll tell him that you came by though,” she said and popped her gum.

  “Interesting. You change jobs?”

  “What’chu talkin’ about?” Red snorted.

  Valentina smiled. “Instead of that side-kick crowing, you’re AK’s secretary now?”

  “Sidekick?” Dirty Red scoffed. “Wasn’t that what you were before the Black Diamonds kicked you out on your ass?”

  “Actually no. I was the lead singer. But you wouldn’t know anything about being a leader in anything now would you?”

  “I know that AK has been spending more and more time at the studio lately.” Red folded her arms, and smiled. “Not alone, Val. He’s been right
here with me.”

  Valentina sighed. “Do you know how pathetically predictable you are? Sure, I’ve noticed his late hours. In fact we were just talking about how he wants me to move in with him. I guess a couple late working sessions with you makes him miss home even more. Now step out my way.”

  She pushed past her and didn’t look back. Checking her watch she wondered if she should call Matt back now or later.

  **

  Valentina turned off the light to the bathroom. Before stepping out from under the arch of the door, she looked up to hear the men enter. He was with DJ Black and Tan and Big Tee his bodyguard. His face was twisted with anger. The first thing he did was kick the chair in front of his desk in frustration. Valentina watched as he paced in front of the men.

  “I can’t believe this shit! If that nigga gets to open the BET Awards over me I’m done. This is my fucking city, how the fuck they gon’ have an award ceremony and I don’t fuckin’ open it? It’s that bitch-ass nigga Devlin that has it in for me!”

  “AK, maybe we should just call Dave back and see what he can do.”

  “Fuck that nigga yo, fuck him! I’m the motherfucker at the top of the charts now. I ain’t calling no fucking body, yo. Fuck that.”

  “Yeah, nigga, I feel you.” Big Tee harmonized along, “It’s a matter of respect. I think you should blow the whole show. Folks want to see you, point blank. Discipline them motherfuckers.”

  “Get my fucking agent on the phone, see what that nigga has to say!” AK said. He marched around the desk and dropped down in his chair. He put his head in his hands. Valentina stepped out and he either sensed her or heard her, because his head immediately went up. The hard lines set across his face softened and he smiled. “Wsup, baby?”

  DJ Black and Tan rolled his eyes at her appearance. “Hey, Valentina,” he said dryly.

  “Wsup?” Big Tee said.

  Valentina ignored them like she did most days. Both men got the point and walked out with DJ B&T saying he’d put a call in to AK’s agent. Valentina wasn’t sure when B&T and AK became that tight but the popular disc jockey had a habit of latching on to celebrities and getting on the payroll. Nothing said in their parting mattered to AK. His attention was solely focused on Valentina. She walked over and ran her hand over his head, then lifted his chin to look down in his eyes.