“I wouldn’t hang up if I were you,” a male voice blurted out.
A puzzled look appeared across Starr’s face. The caller immediately caught her attention. “Who the fuck is this?” She stared at the phone and then put it back to her ear.
“Don’t matter,” the male voice replied dryly.
She was in no mood to be playing games. She could already feel herself getting out of a sexual mood and transitioning into a more serious state. “Look, mutha—”
“You have an undercover agent planted in your organization. This piece of information is free. If you want to know anything further, it’s going to cost you . . . a lot,” the male voice cut Starr off.
A second later, the phone went dead in Starr’s ear. She stared at the phone for a second time. She then looked down at Diamond with an untrusting eye. Still, she kept her cool, and kept what she had just heard to herself.
“Is everything okay, bae?” Diamond asked. She noticed the sudden change in Starr’s demeanor.
“Yeah, everything’s straight. I gotta go,” Starr brushed her question off. She hopped up and began to dress. “I’ll hit you up later,” she informed her lover without bothering to turn and look at her. Her mind was too preoccupied by the words playing in her head from the anonymous caller.
“Damn! No kiss, no hug, no nothin’?” Diamond chimed.
Starr stopped and turned. She was already headed out the bedroom door. The phone call had her in deep thought. It was all she could think about. She didn’t want to alarm Diamond.
“My bad, babe.” She made her way back over to the bed and leaned into Diamond. She cupped Diamond’s face and flashed her a loving smile. She gave her a deep, passionate kiss. Diamond tried to wrap her arms around Starr’s neck and her long, muscular legs around her waist, only to be rejected. “I gotta go.” Starr broke their lip lock and released Diamond’s chin.
She stared into her eyes. She felt guilty for searching for betrayal in her lover’s eyes. She didn’t want to believe that she had just kissed her Judas. Starr shook the thought off. For all she knew, the phone call was bogus, even though her gut was telling her it was not a drill or a joke. She flashed Diamond one more smile. “I love you, girl.”
“I love you too, Starrshma.”
Starr let out a light chuckle and shook her head. Diamond was the only one she allowed to call her by her birth name without blacking out and getting pissed off. She was also the only one who made it sound like music to her ears, although she disliked her real name. It can’t be her, Starr thought. That’s my rider right there, she concluded.
“I’ll see you later,” Starr said and then she was gone.
Diamond hopped out of the bed and pulled back her room’s curtains. She squinted from the sunlight that met her at the window. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed since they had left the club and she and Starr had met at her house. She watched as Starr climbed into her green, black, and red Ducati. She forced a smile as Starr looked back and up at her in the window and blew her a kiss the way she always did. She hated the fact that she had just up and left in the midst of a heated and passionate moment, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it. She knew exactly who and what she was getting involved in when she first crossed the line and started dealing with her boss, but still she didn’t like it.
There was no doubt in her mind that Starr would choose her work over her at the drop of a dime. That was a problem for her. She loved Starr so much that she would be willing to give it all up. She would risk any- and everything for her if it ever came down to it, she knew. She managed to return Starr’s kiss. A few tears trickled down her face at the thought. As soon as Starr sped off, Diamond thrust herself onto her bed, buried her face in her pillow, and let out a loud cry.
Chapter Three
The college classroom–styled domain in the downtown Las Vegas federal building was filled with over two dozen law enforcement officials and representatives from every branch and department. The lead agents, head detectives, and top-ranking officers sat up front. Members from the Washington field office, the public corruption unit, and the organized crime division were called in by the director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation at the request of Head Special Agent Tom McCarthy.
The central air system pumped out an inconsiderable amount of low temperature that most of the law officials ignored with the help of the two-day-old coffee and stale donuts. For most of them, it was just like being back at the academy. They joked around and mingled among each other until the lights went out. The only sound that could be heard in the room was the film projector. The beam of a bright white light shot from the back of the room onto the white eighty-inch roll-down canvas screen.
Special Agent McCarthy stepped in front of it. His huge shadow reflected on the blank screen, making him appear much larger than his five foot seven, 180-pound pudgy frame as he stepped directly into the beam of light. All eyes were on him. Most hadn’t met him personally, but he looked like he meant business. And he did. He made sure that every single person was paying attention before he began. His silent point was established. His patience remained untested.
Agent McCarthy wore a black tailor-made suit and black tie, with a white button-up shirt underneath. He adjusted his tie while clearing his throat. He stepped up in front of the cherry wood podium and cut the small brass overhead lamp on. It shined down on his notes. He quickly scanned through a few pages and then picked up a tiny remote that resembled a huge pen. He kept his thumb on the top button that controlled the projector. At the first click, a surveillance photo of a beautiful, young, full-figured African American woman exiting a nightclub appeared on the screen. It was hard to make out her estimated age range due to the way she was dressed in the photo. Agent McCarthy strolled over to the screen. He faced the audience as he spoke.
“This is Starrshma Fields, aka Starr. From what we know, she is the second-in-command of a powerful lesbian criminal organization. They call themselves the Double Gs.”
Most of the officers and agents in the room chuckled under their breaths, but not without it going unnoticed by Agent McCarthy, who remained militantly serious as he continued.
“Now, I assure you that this is no laughing matter. This group of women is not to be taken lightly. That is exactly how they got so far, so fast. They are relentless; worst of all, they are perfectly structured. I also assure you all that in your entire career in law enforcement, you have never seen, or been up against, a group that warrants the continuing criminal enterprise statute such as this. I have personally been tracking this organization for the past nine years. We have reason to believe that this organization started out as a simple renegade lesbian motorcycle gang nearly twenty-three years ago. Since then, it has expanded into what it is today: an underground dictatorship dynasty.” Agent McCarty paused to take in the faces in the room before he continued. He could see that not many were following or took his words seriously.
“It was founded by an anonymous woman who they call Queen Fem,” he continued anyway. “Still to this day, we have no idea who or where she is. But we do know that Ms. Fields is the key to it all. She is the only one who knows how to get to Queen Fem.”
A voice from the dark untimely interrupted, “With all due respect, sir, why is this our problem, or concern? From what we’re hearing, they’re just a group of Girl Scouts gone wild. Meanwhile, we’ve got real bad guys to catch, terrorists to fight, and dope dealers to bring down. How does a gay girl club warrant the devotion of every law enforcement agency there is?”
Agent McCarthy shook his head in frustration, knowing that the comments had probably come from some dumb local who thought ten years on the force gave him credibility as a decorated officer. Still, he upheld his professional yet stern composure as he continued.
“Without further interference, I’ll tell you exactly how this warrants all our attention. This isn’t some juvenile delinquent group of girls with a secret handshake. This is a well-organized criminal cu
lt. They are a secret society that targets men of power and position, legal and illegitimate, but mainly illegal. And their influence is outstanding. They do not only operate and target individuals on a local level, they also have some of the nation’s top cartels and crime families under their remote control. On every level, from the low-grade street dealers to the top bosses, they have managed to influence and manipulate their way into the underworld like law enforcement could never imagine doing themselves.” McCarthy took a sip of his cup of cold coffee. “And they didn’t just stop there. They’re much smarter than that. They have done the same things with honest, hardworking citizens of power. Lawyers, judges, law enforcement.” He let his words linger in the air before he continued. “They are now deeply rooted in the corporate world. Their white-collar crimes are on a scale like no other. Their schemes are both productive and effective.”
“Exactly what methods are they using?” a different voice asked from the dark.
Agent McCarthy walked back to the podium and pressed a button and the lights came back on. He reluctantly answered, “This is exactly what I’m getting at. What we are up against is something like we’ve never seen before, or even encountered. It is a level of strong-armed blackmail that seems simplistic, but is really so far advanced. It’s a webbing system that protects them like a fortress. And it all starts with an initiation process. So with each targeted victim, they get stronger.
“Their selections are far from random, for both recruit and the target. Both are thoroughly investigated and handpicked by a selective few gang members. Right now it is unclear how many. But we do know that they all report to one woman, that being Ms. Fields. And she may or may not be reporting to someone else, that being Queen Fem who, as I stated earlier, is a mystery. We do, however, know that they go after men of power, on both a low and high level, from drug dealers to politicians. But only those with the most to lose. They know exactly who’s weak and, more importantly, who’ll break. They learn exactly who has what to protect and how far they will go to do so. Then they go after it, through them. They get into isolated positions with their targets and use forcefully degrading acts to hang over their heads, according to my intel source. Now, here’s the most brilliant part, which complicates things for us. Technically, they’re clean. Everything about them checks out. Aside from their heat-packing motorcycle gang security branch, the rest of them appear to be high-class, law-abiding citizens with respectable jobs. They only get their hands dirty one time: the initiation process. Which means, technically, they aren’t even a part of the Double Gs yet when they commit the actual criminal act.”
“So why don’t we just bring them down under the RICO Act or 848 CCE?” a uniformed DEA agent asked from his seat.
“Good question. But with what? All we’ll get is a couple of misdemeanor gun charges, and circumstantial evidence of blackmail. It’s hard to paint a clear picture to the jury for them to see what we’re dealing with. Nothing will stick without successfully retrieving some hardcore evidence. Nothing,” Agent McCarthy emphasized.
“So what about this Queen Fem? Any leads on her?” a special operative of the Secret Service inquired.
“None. She’s been a ghost since the beginning of time. It seems that only Ms. Fields can lead us to her. But, until then, she’s taking all the heat.”
“You also say you have a source. Please specify?” the secretary of the Justice Department asked.
Agent McCarthy was hesitant to elaborate. His reluctance was evident. “Yes. I recently got an undercover agent inside who provides intel,” he confirmed.
“Undercover?” the secretary asked.
“That is correct,” Agent McCarthy confirmed.
“Did the agent also complete the initiation process? And is she also a lesbian?” a uniformed officer asked with a humorous undertone in his voice. A few officers chuckled, finding both questions to be tickling.
Agent McCarthy grew visibly agitated. “The necessary steps have been taken to get us on the inside. And to the next level,” he declared.
“And what is the primary objective?” a Homeland Security officer asked from his front-row seat.
“Objective number one: finding Queen Fem or something solid. Second: take down and disassemble the Double Gs for good. We have to send a message to the others. A strong message!” Agent McCarthy banged his fist on the podium.
Each representative from the organizations looked back and forth at one another and then back at Agent McCarthy with agreeing nods. On the outside, Agent McCarthy was stone-faced, but on the inside he was smiling. Step one: mission accomplished, he thought.
“Now, gentlemen, let’s get to work!”
Chapter Four
Anthony Frost lay back in the deluxe king-sized bed of his Villagio condo out in North Las Vegas, anxiously filled with excitement. This that life right here. Shit don’t get too much better than this. He was convinced this would be an unforgettable evening. The low-playing tunes of Future filled his dimly lit condo’s master bedroom. The setting was just right, he thought, but not nearly as perfect as he felt the situation was. He couldn’t help but smile at what he believed was about to go down.
He folded his muscular arms behind his head and a light devilish grin spread across his hairless baby face. Although he didn’t want to rush a single second, he couldn’t wait for the night to be over so he could brag to his crew about the unfolding episode that was taking place. Wishing that they could share his current view, he selfishly went back to enjoying it all by himself. His dick stiffened from the two women’s thickness. Breasts and ass protruded everywhere. Being a big man himself, there was nothing that turned him on more than a plus-size woman, and he was fortunate to have two.
Both women were nearly identical from top to bottom, with the exception of a birthmark on the chin of the darker one. Only five foot seven, their solid 200 pounds protruded in all the right places. Their double Ds looked as if they were fighting to break out of the Victoria’s Secret bras and their asses nearly swallowed up the matching lace boy short panties they sported. The bottoms of their cheeks possessed a perfect cuff. Where the cuff ended, the full length of their muscular legs began. They stood at the foot of his bed and slow danced while they caressed one another.
Anthony licked his lips as he eyed their Amazonian builds. He didn’t know exactly how to feel; it was weird to him at first, because they were obviously sisters. Twins in fact. But at the same time, it turned him on to see something so forbidden. Anthony just watched, waiting to see how far things would go between them. He had no way of knowing that the two sisters, who were born Gareesha and Nareesha Fowler, had been exploring each other’s bodies playfully, then eventually in an incestuous manner, since they were little girls.
Sparkle had a mesmeric glaze in her eyes that was electrifying. She stared her mirror image, Glitter, in the face. They interlaced their fingers of both hands together and passionately slow danced to the music, grinding their bodies together in a soft, sensual manner.
Sparkle broke eye contact and turned around, pressing her back into Glitter’s inner thighs. Glitter never stopped the rhythmic flow. She skillfully reached around to the front of Sparkle’s thick waist and stuck her right hand into her panty line. Sparkle gasped, releasing a sexual sigh of relief as she rested the back of her head on Glitter’s collarbone. They both decided to put on one hell of a show for their solo audience member. Glitter pulled her hand up and out of Sparkle’s panties and stuck her glistening index finger into her own mouth, allowing her long, stiff tongue to swipe up her sister’s honey nectar. She then turned her head to smile at Anthony, who was lying on top of his bed’s silk Gucci sheets, dying for a piece of the action.
In sync, as rehearsed, both girls turned and climbed on top of the bed. They split up, one crawling on each side of his muscular frame. All Anthony could think about at that moment was how the twins claimed they didn’t do penetration. But on the way home from Treasures, where they were employed, he knew that statement wo
uld soon be a thing of the past. At minimum, if that weren’t the case, he figured he’d at least get a dynamic double blow job from two super thick twins. This some real live fantasy shit at its best, he thought. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that it was all kinds of kinky.
His ill thoughts were interrupted by the touch of Sparkle stroking the right side of his chest while Glitter sucked on the left side of his neck. To heighten the mood, Glitter reached down into the crotch of Anthony’s silk boxers and fondled his magic stick. She smiled at the fact that he was leaking pre-cum already. Anthony extended both of his arms. He rubbed both sisters’ asses at the same time while they teased and pleasured his body. Damn these muthafuckas thick as fuck.
Sparkle pulled the right side of Anthony’s face toward her to draw his attention more on her. They both locked eyes. Sparkle leaned in and bit his bottom lip. She then reached across his waist and stuck her right hand into her sister’s panties the way Glitter had done to her earlier. She made sure to get her fingers nice and wet before pulling them back out. Glitter shut her eyes and moaned from her sister’s touch as she breathed heavily into Anthony’s ear. He was loving every second of it. Sparkle raised her soaked fingers up to her mouth. She stared at them seductively before sticking her tongue out and slowly licking the juice off her index finger with just the tip of her tongue. She then put them in front of Anthony’s face.
“I’ve saved just enough for you, daddy,” she softly whispered. Her fingers were so close that he could actually smell her sister’s natural, sweet-smelling scent. He parted his lips and allowed her to place her two fingers into his mouth as he gently sucked off Sparkle’s saliva and Glitter’s vaginal secretions mixed together.
Glitter broke free of her own exotic trance. The drugs had her caught up in the moment, but she managed to snap back to reality. She jumped out of bed while making sure to catch eye contact with her sister before she spoke. “Now listen, baby. I know we’ve kept you waiting long enough, so we’re going to freshen up a bit, and then when we return, trust me, you’ll be in for the show of your life.” Glitter licked her lips seductively.
Watch Out for the Big Girls Page 3
