The tip of his tongue encircles one of my hard nipples. Without taking it into his mouth, he moves to show my other nipple the same type of care. Through cracked eyes, I watch the starry night while he takes me to a new level of desire with just his mouth on my chest.
“I’m gonna pay you back for this afternoon,” he whispers while he rubs his rough jaw against my chest.
“Oh, how you plan on doing that? By repeating it, again?”
Shit! How can one man look so damn good. His blue-green eyes hold a sparkle as they open for me to see into his depths. Now, I see why men that are in touch with their feelings make the best musicians. They love without restraint.
“We’re taking it slow, tonight,” he begins while he gathers my dress to uncover my legs and above. His other hand is at his leather belt.
“There’s no need for-“
No doubt he can hear the fear in my tone.
“I just want to see something,” he promises.
With a jerk he frees his belt. I don’t fight him as he gathers my wrists behind my back to tie in place with his belt.
“Kinky, huh?” I chuckle. “And what are we trying to see?” I tease.
Johnny doesn’t immediately answer me. Instead, he keeps me waiting as he leans back. It’s as if he’s trying to learn me, figure me out, see something that I didn’t even know I possessed.
“I want to know if I can make you sing a different tone, express a different emotion.”
His voice is deep, low, and electrifying. In minutes, my dress is gone. The warm air caresses my trembling body.
“Ah,” he smiles while he opens his pants. “I can make you feel fear. I wonder why?”
“Not fear…excitement,” I try to lie.
“I thought we were passed this, Tia.”
For the next minute, he does nothing but watch me. In doing nothing, he’s making me want him so much. All of this isn’t sitting right with me or my rapidly beating heart that’s experiencing the strongest pull towards Johnny that I ever have had for a man.
Why won’t he fuck me? Why is he watching me like a goddamn hawk? What is the game he’s playing?
“No games, Tia.”
I freeze with his response.
“Untie me. Take me home,” I demand while I try to tilt off his lap.
“No,” he snaps.
His word bites, but his actions of straightening me to remain where he placed me are still gentle. Lifting me up, he begins to bring me down on his dick so slowly, I’m left biting my bottom lip to stop my cries. The sensation of the stretching out my pussy is delish, sending shivers up my spine. Back up to his mushroom shape tip to penetrate me deeper until he finally does a death drop to land on his lap.
“Um,” is all I can get out.
He slides his hips away from the back of the seat which shoves him further into my womb.
“Take your time,” he whispers.
The back of his hand brushes from the side of my face, down my neck, over my collarbone, to cup my breasts. Leaning forward, he licks my neck. The action makes me fall forward.
“Don’t be afraid to lean on me. I’ll catch you every time, Tia.”
He’s not talking about now. He’s promising so much more. His strong hands grip my ass to maneuver me closer as he grinds into me. In awe, without a single thrust I cum. I don’t know if that was the signal Johnny was waiting on, but he finally moves. He creates a slow tempo as he rides the wave of my orgasm. I can’t stop trembling. Why am I shaking like a leaf?
“I can feel your heartbeat. Is it my dick that’s making it go wild? Or is it me?”
Leaning back, he pins me with is gaze. I move my mouth to speak, but I’m too afraid that my mouth won’t say the lies that my mind have conjured up. Suddenly, I feel it. It’s a feeling that’s so foreign for me. If my hands were free, I would be able to test to prove to myself that it’s actually happening. I drop my head, but he’s seen. Still moving inside of me with practiced, deep strokes, Johnny forces me to look at him. His lips touch my cheek. The action spreads the clear moisture dampening my skin. Now I know I’m not imagining the tears that fell from wide eyes.
All he does is smile. It’s not a cocky grin of “I told you.” No, the curves of his lips hold an understanding that hurts to behold. He drops his gaze as if he wants to allow me what’s left of my pride. Cuddling me, Johnny nestles my neck, while he supports me with his arms around my waist as he continues to love my body in a way that can only be explained in a song.
I can’t believe my reaction to all of this. Maybe it’s the pressure of dealing with my Mom. Maybe it’s all the years of being Brit’s everything, and the weight of the struggle. Maybe it’s the fact that for the first time in my life, a man has been able to see the broken woman behind the smile. For the first time, I let the tears flow. I’m not giving, I’m taking. Johnny is filling me up with his strength…and from the intense expression on his face, he’s loving every moment.
No words are said. No filthy, fuck me’s, no ride this dick’s, just the sound of my sobs, our labored breaths, and our moans of pleasure. Once again, my head rolls back to take in the sky. This time, I see a beauty that wasn’t there before. It’s not like I haven’t glanced up at the night sky before. However, when you become so used to seeing the same thing, you stop marveling over it. It’s nothing new. Yet, tonight…I’m in awe as I dare to dream of what could be if I’ll just let myself go and get out of the way.
Bringing me back, Johnny moves my lips to his to take me higher.
“We’re going to make each other feel again, Tia. I’ll be good to you, trust me,” he breathes into my mouth.
Dear God, I think he means it.
CHAPTER TEN
JOHNNY
“Damn, if my boy ain’t back,” exclaims the sound guy.
“That’s what love can do,” adds Yosef from his place on the couch.
I don’t even try to deny it. It’s true that I’ve done a complete 360 in the last week since Tia and I started rocking with each other heavy. I’m inspired, back in the studio recording, and I’ve gotten my golden touchback when it comes to working with the other artists. Not only that, but this record I’m laying down now is taking me back to the days when I would listen to New Edition, Luther, Teddy P, and Marvin Gay on cassette tape. My entire sound is like my first record, that went gold four times. It was an old school vibe that I thought I had lost, but now it’s been found.
If Tia wouldn’t think me crazy for asking, I would drop to one knee to give her the engagement ring I bought two days ago. Yes, I’m that serious. I guess I have to be happy with giving her the custom silk dress I had made for next week’s awards ceremony. I haven’t brought it up since the night in the limo. Ryann is working on hair and ensuring his friends have the dress and shoes ready to go. I got jewelry on lockdown by personally selecting the diamonds that will be icing her body.
With three weeks left for taping the reality show, I know Tia’s wondering how things are going to be. Right now, we’re constantly in each other's faces. Taping in the morning, working on the challenges in the afternoon and into the night, then dinners in the evening, it’s easy to cultivate our relationship. Yet, will the effort be made by me to continue on? When I say, I ain’t going nowhere, I mean it. If my plan works, I’ll be locking Tia down, permanently by December. I’m not risking fucking things up with years of dating. I know what I want.
“I want to lay down the bridge real quick, then we can call it a day,” I say from the sound room.
The sound engineer gives me a thumbs up before he begins moving nobs on the soundboard as he gets the playback track ready. My cell in my back pocket vibrates. Smirking, I pull it out. Suddenly, my world tilts, falls to crash and burn. I close my eyes in hopes that what was just texted to me is an imagination of nightmarish proportions. Cracking my eyes, I see that it’s not a dream. The pounding on the soundproof window gets my attention. Yosef is shaking his cell in the air while his mouth is moving a mile a minute
. I must be in shock because I go back to the image on my cell. The shock doesn’t last for long, though.
I’m gonna see if she’s just as good as her Mama.
The caption written on the image is the start I needed. I swore to God on the day of my release from jail, years ago, that I was never going to be back behind bars. Well, I’m sorry because I’m going to kill this motherfucker today. The way I head out of the recording booth to enter the main room, everyone knows I’m not in my right mind. Richey was already on his feet by the door leading to the hallway.
“You know where he’s at?” I growl.
“I’ve had people on him for a while,” is Richey’s answer.
“We’re not taking nothing flashy.”
He nods as he runs ahead of me to secure a car.
“Are you going to tell Tia?”
Shit, Tia! I can only pray that the school hasn’t called her to tell her that Brit isn’t there. From my side profile, I see Yosef staring at me when my ringer goes off on my cell. I haven’t given Tia a special ringtone, but I know it’s her. What happened to the day that the school places the calls at the end of the damn day? I swipe left to send it to voicemail. I got to get in route before talking to her.
“We’re ready,” announces Richey as I step out of the warehouse onto the street.
Not slowing my steps, he leads us and three others to a black Silverado pickup truck with a cab. It’s only enough room for 5.
“I’m going to call Tia. Text me when you get to her. She’s at her office. I don’t need her doing something crazy. Once I get Brit, I’ll bring her home,” I inform Yosef.
My friend takes a second to look at the men around me, then he locks gazes with me.
“You’re not going down like you did before,” promises Yosef.
“It really doesn’t matter to me if I do,” I admit.
Getting in the passenger seat, I watch through the side door mirror as Yosef takes off running for his car. I don’t know if this will be the last time in a long time that I see him as a free man. Reaching up, I open the glove compartment, tug on a pair of leather gloves, and retrieve the gun wrapped up in a worn cloth, All the men on my take know how I do things; clean. Gloves, unmarked guns are the standard. Not that I’m known for doing shady shit, but for those moments when things needed to be handled, I want to be with men that know how to carry things out.
“I called my brother. He’s sending our cousins over to clean up whatever mess is made,” Richey informs me as he rolls through the security gate and onto the wet, rainy streets. “How did Brit even get picked up by Rafael?”
I scrub my hand down my face in frustration. Times like this, I wish to God I had an Inspector Gadget vehicle.
“I bet it’s the boy Brit was fucking around with. I hinted to Tia that she needed to press her about the boy because something just wasn’t right, but Tia wanted to be a goddamn friend instead of a parent,” I huff. “First Brit said he went to her school. Then she said he kinda did because he took high school and college courses, so he’s not on campus all the time. Oh, he works two fuckin jobs so it’s going to be hard to get him to come over so we could meet him. Her bullshit stories just kept on changing. The motherfucker is one of Rafael’s weak-ass boys.”
I glance back down at my cell as the rage overtakes me.
“Don’t keep looking at that.”
I hear Richey’s warning, but I can’t turn away. Brit dressed up in a sheer gown, her breast being exposed by someone pulling down the front, and her red shot eyes barely open from whatever she had been given. I can count at least six men crowded around her. I can’t stomach looking lower to see the hand between her legs that are being held open by other hands, again.
“Ten more minutes,” Richey announces.
I don’t know if he thought that info was supposed to calm me. It doesn’t. Shit, four guys could have gotten a nut within that time.
This time, when my cell rings, I pick it up.
“Me being here isn’t doing a damn thing,” admits Yosef.
I can hear yelling and Ryann cursing through the phone.
“Where is Tia? The school called and now-“
“I’m on my way to get her,” I say as calmly as I can.
“You? H, how do you know where she is? Why would she call you and not, what the fuck is going on? She skipped school to go where?” she rattles off.
“I’m going to get her,” I repeat.
“Where the fuck is she, Johnny! How do you know!” she yells.
I hang up without answering her. I don’t want to admit it, but in my heart, I know how this is all going to play out.
Richey underestimated. Not ten minutes but twenty is how long it took for us to turn into the upscale neighborhood. Most of the people were gone with it being 2 pm on a Tuesday afternoon. Those that were home didn’t give much thought about the brown skin men pulled to the side of one of the neighborhood roads. In their rich minds, they must be nothing but a group of Mexican gardeners. The SUV with a trailer hitched to the back helped paint the picture. At this point, Richey’s cousins only had to fear ICE being called on them to produce Green Cards. Richey passed the SUV, then put our truck into reverse to back up to the trailer.
As soon as I get out, sounds of female laughter and splashing carries over the fence of the fun going on in a back yard of the house two homes down on the right. Seven men pile out of the SUV. Two go to open the back of the trailer to start unloading weed eaters and a blower. The other picks up a large trash bag from the trailer to carry it over to us with his other men following.
“Okay, ya’ll got gloves. Here,” he tosses me a long sleeve shirt to change into which will cover my arms and neck tattoos.
My watch, necklace, bracelet, ring was left in our truck along with anything else we might be wearing to identify us. With his gloves now on, he tosses out pairs of cheap-ass tennis shoes that are sized either too small or too big for the casts that the police are sure to take when processing the scene. Lastly, we all get a beanie and one of those plastic Halloween masks from the popup Halloween Spirits store. The kind that’s strapped around your head by a thin rubber band.
With a jerk of his head, his crew pretending to be lawn men crank up the machines and walk towards the side of the house we’re parked in front of. After a few seconds, with our beanies and masks in hand, we follow. Going straight to the back, side gate, we leap over into the next yard. Quickly, we run across the manicured lawn to reach the side gate of the house we’re after. We only pause long enough to cover our heads and faces. Hands on the wooden privacy fence, we haul our bodies up and over to land on a patch of grass. It takes a second for the drinking and high partyers playing in the hot sun to even notice we’ve crashed the event.
Screams fill the air. I don’t stop to see what the other men are doing about these people being witness to all this shit. Richey, his cousin and I make a beeline for the inside of the house through the open French Doors. The house is big, but it doesn’t have too many rooms. Splitting up, we run through the first floor in no time at all. Meeting by the stairs, we head up.
“Yo, your gun,” Richey’s cousin points out.
Without hesitation, he switches mine for his, which has a silencer attached to the barrel.
The room wasn’t hard to find. There were so many motherfuckers at the scene either to take a turn or to watch, that the door couldn’t be closed. Richey takes the lead. He covers the man’s mouth closes to us to pull him back into the hallway. I take the man’s place to stand in the gap. Cell phones are recording. Brittany is in a half-circle surrounded by four men. Each one has their dicks out. One by one, they are forcing her to suck before the next guy gets her attention with a snatch of her head by her hair for her to repeat on his cock. The sheer cloth, dress, …I don’t know what it is, is hanging around her waist. Her nipples are being pulled on while a guy is on his knees behind her with her ass exposed.
It’s too many dicks to count. I just pray that all Brit ha
s is a case of lock jaw, and none of them have had an actual ride. Pushing my way to the side, I lift my gun and shot the guy currently causing the girl to gag in the ass. Instantly, chaos breaks out. There’s only one way out, and the three of us got that covered. I’m not here to kill, but these assholes are going to remember this day. Hands up, pleas of help, and for us to stop shooting mix with the screams of pain as we shoot out kneecaps, shins, thighs, arms, and even open hands until one man is left whole and standing.
If Rafael could climb the wall, the rat-faced fucker would. As I move deeper into the room, Richey strolls over to collect Brittany. Even with us hiding our faces, he knows who’s here to collect on his wrongdoing.
“I, I…please…d, don’t do this. I’m sorry, really. I wasn’t going to let it go that far.”
As I weave through the maze of the wounded, the closer I get to Rafael, I can tell he’s been snorting that shit. In the middle of his begging, I swing with the butt of the gun to lodge it in this mouth. Blood sprays up to cover my jeans. The next hit cracks the side of his head. No longer is he able to plead with coherent words. His mouth moves, but nothing but wheezes of air and grunts are passing through his thin lips. He might be brain dead, maybe not. Frankly, I don’t care. Stepping back, I level the gun at his head.
Richey coughs a warning. My hand shakes with the desire to explode this fucker’s brain matter all over the wall.
Richey coughs, again.
I hold up my gloved hand to let him know I understand. Repositioning the gun, I shoot Rafael in the next best location. He might have been unable to figure out what day of the week it was after the hit to the head. A bullet to his dick brought him back. I’ve never heard a person squeal like a pig before. Even from all the beatings and tortures I’ve carved out in the past, my ears had never heard such a high pitch of pure pain before.
Nice and clean, with only the people we wanted to hit being affected. Just the way I like it. Yet, this was just the beginning for Rafael. Not only is he going to be dick less but he’s also going to be a broke, homeless, cast out, ugly motherfucker once I’m finished.
I'll Be Good to You Page 14
