Sex in the Hood Saga

by White Chocolate

  “Ghetto survival lesson numba one: Be fearless. If you scary, e’rybody smell it. If you act like you the boss, like can’t nobody touch you, then people respect that.”

  “My dad told me that too.”

  “Then do it.”

  “He meant in business.”

  “If you ain’t scared here, then you won’t be scary in a board room facin’ some pit bull ma’fucka who wanna rip yo’ throat out if he don’t get his way.” Moreno’s sneaky eyes—all three of those dudes were just as sneaky as the next—flashed in Duke’s mind. Victoria Winston would disarm those sleazy bastards so tough, none of them would even know their own name.

  “Duke, when you say I’m scary, that means I scare you.”

  You do, but I ain’t neva gon’ confess it. He stared back, silent and still.

  “If you say ‘I’m scared,’ that means ‘I feel afraid.’ The words ‘scary’ and ‘scared’ are not interchangeable.”

  “Let me go get an apple for the teacher. Ain’t that what white kids do? At my school, kids gave teachers a knock upside the head.”

  She leaned close. His lips parted. Was she doing a 180, about to kiss him?

  “See, your eyes.” She stared the same way that doctor did in the emergency room when Duke cut his eye as he was trying to save Prince. “Panther eyes.”

  “So, doc, you ain’t scared. I’m ’bout to pounce your fine ass?”

  “You want something from me. You wanna butter me up.”

  “Ain’t like you got no chips.”

  “I am my own trump card.” She raised her chin, poking her chest out. “And only I choose how and when to play it.”

  “Damn, girl. Soundin’ just like me.”

  “See,” she said, her hot breath tickling his cheek as she stared into his right eye. “When you get excited, your eyes sparkle, like onyxes, these beautiful black jewels. My mom had an onyx choker and earrings, but they didn’t sparkle as much as her eyes.”

  The sadness in her eyes made his heart hurt.

  “But what am I thinkin’?” When she looked into his eyes, could she see the fantasy film strip playing his mind, of them fucking on the hood of this car in the orange haze of sunset, right here on Belle Isle? Could she see how he wanted to bend over that round ass and bury Timbo deep up in that virgin timberland, make her cum so hard she wouldn’t be staring hard at anything but him when she begged to get fucked senseless all over again?

  “Well,” she sounded real scientific. “Since thoughts are electricity popping between the neurons, I mean the cells in our brains—”

  This chick was seriously concentrating on his eyeball. Her face was close enough to kiss. If she didn’t move back and stop pushing her left titty up against his arm, making her soft, sweet sex smell make him want to pounce like that panther she was describing.

  Duke shivered, not just with lust but with fear, because when he kissed her and she agreed to work for him, when she became his Duchess ruling over Babylon with him, could he handle that? Just like Momma always said, “Be careful what you ask for.”

  The only successful relationship partnerships Duke had seen between a man and a woman in love, were on TV. He’d never met his own daddy. Never knew any kids whose daddies were around for a long time, living like the ridiculous Huxtables. What made him think he could succeed at it himself?

  Because I’m The Duke, and when I want somethin’, I make it happen. According to my vision. Just like Ramses. And so it is written, and so it is done.

  “We literally think at the speed of light,” Duchess said.

  “I’m gon’ kiss you at the speedo’ light if you don’t stop teasin’me.”

  “Your eyes captivated me,” she said with that scientific stare into his eyeball, “when we met at Gramma Green’s. The way your irises shift, it’s so cool, like I see these fascinating sparkles of bronze and copper and onyx all set in dark brown velvet.”

  The way her lips were wrapping around all those big words and blowing them out, right in his face, it was just too much. If there were a big CONTROL switch in Duke’s brain and he had been holding the lever back as tightly as he could, then something just sucked away all his strength and he let go. Let that ma’fucka slam into the red, alarm-ringin’ OUTTA CONTROL zone. It could have been worse, in the black, LOBOTOMIZED BY DUCHESS. Pussy zone. Naw, right now the red zone just meant he had to kiss her.

  Duke pressed his mouth to hers. Her words jammed into his lips. She tried to close her mouth, to pull away, to push his chest with her long, elegant fingers, but the scent of her sex coming up like a cloud from her pussy let him know that her mind over matter didn’t mean a thing when he took control of her body. She got still. Her lips were open, letting him nibble them like the juiciest barbecued ribs in sweet-spicy sauce that been smoking all day, the smell making his mouth water for hours. Now he was going to slowly savor every bit, knowing he could feast on this for a lifetime.

  Chapter 16

  Victoria felt dizzy. She hated that Duke’s hot mouth on hers was erasing every bit of stress, sadness, anxiety, and fear. She loved the physical sensations of his lips, his delicious, expensive cologne mixed with his macho-as-hell guy smell, the huge bulk of his body, his exotic dark skin, and the tenderness in his eyes.

  His affection feels so good to my love-starved body, mind, and soul.

  This was the first time she had been touched since all those hugs at the funeral, and her whole body was aching for a warm touch, for assurance that she could somehow get her normal life back, her safe, pampered, privileged life back. She could go to sleep right there because when she closed her burning eyes, the physical sensations of his kiss sucked her mind and body into a luscious lullaby where she was sure he would hold her in his arms and rock her all night long.

  “Mmmm.” Her heart pumped boiling blood with such ferocity that her ears were ringing. It was threatening to drown out her resolve to keep her mix-race sex power in check. Duke didn’t know it and wouldn’t believe it, but by kissing her, he was literally flirting with suicide. He would laugh if she tried to tell him, but every second longer that he electrified her soul like this, he was unleashing her danger within. Danger that would be unstoppable if they went to second, third, and fourth base.

  No way. But never had she been kissed like this. Duke’s lips were so soft and full and gentle. His breath was clean and slightly spicy. His nose against hers was more warm satin against her face. He nibbled slowly, and she responded the same way. It was the total opposite of Brian’s frenzied oral assault with pursed, hard lips.

  I could do this ’til I die.

  Just this afternoon, at first glance, Duke Johnson looked like the worst stereotype of an inner-city, drug dealing gang member thug. But now she was kissing him and loving it. Was this what he meant by her transformation, her fade to black?

  One of Duke’s giant hands raised up. He ran his fingertips down her hot cheek, as if touching to prove she was real.

  She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, wishing he would do the same to her clit right now, because Celeste was writhing like a wild pink animal trying to claw her way out of these comfy velour pants. Even the blue panties fit perfectly, but now they were so wet, Victoria was sure she’d look like she peed on herself if she stood up. Tonight, she would stroke her pussy again.

  I have no idea where I’m going to sleep tonight. I am not going back to Gramma Green’s house.

  Right now, she would be happy to spend the night right here, kissing him, not thinking about tomorrow or school or her life or her dead parents or her femme fatale mixed race sex power. Nope, if she could stay in this safe, innocent bubble, kissing this gorgeous knight in a shining Porsche at sunset after he rescued Alice from Ghettoland. . . .

  Can’t stand the hand that fate just slammed and rammed me, damned me. Don’t understand this man who planned to demand that I hand him my soul that he stole with one look, all it took, and I’m hooked on this god. Yes, this god whose eyes can’t disguise love ’til h
e dies. No lies, just whys. Why is it me that he sees on his dream team? Yes, dream team. I will scream if he touches the seam between my legs. Make me beg. No, I will never beg.

  She begged Brian so many times to kiss her pussy after she’d given him enough oral sex to make his eyes pop. But all he could do was talk about “secretions” and “period blood” and “yeast infections,” which she’d never even had. “It’s disgusting,” he’d say. When he begged her to finally go all the way, she demanded to know why he wanted to stick his penis without a condom, into a place he’d called disgusting.

  Thank God l never had intercourse with that jerk!

  A soft moan from Duke, a deep, wonderful sound that vibrated through her chest, drew her from her thoughts. Would Duke kiss her there? Would she have to ask? Would his giant dick feel as good as movie stars made it look on the silver screen?

  Suddenly, her lips felt cool. Exposed. His mouth was like a thousand feathers dancing over her cheek; soft, slow, airbrush kisses that made Victoria’s head swirl. Over her nose, across her forehead, down her eyebrows and onto her eyelids. He was kissing her eyelids with such exquisite softness, she gasped. Moaned. Her eyes burned with tears.

  Love. That was love, kissing someone’s eyelids like that. For a moment, she had no mental picture of him, couldn’t remember what he looked like. She couldn’t even think of his name. She had never felt this in her brain, her body or her spiritual being. The feeling was similar to the rock solid sense of comfort and security she had felt with her parents, but this was more delicious. Intoxicating. Exhilirating. And terrifying.

  Oh my God. He sucked both her lips between his then ran his tongue between them. Victoria moaned. She grasped his jaw, her fingertips on his hot, thick, baby-soft neck. She had to suck on it, taste it, smell it. Her lips trailed down his jaw.

  The rosy haze of sunset was casting a surreal glow, as if this were a scene in a movie she was watching and it wasn’t really happening to her, even though her chest was rising and falling violently. For the first time ever, she was panting with need. Sure, she had breathed heavy with Brian, but he never made her feel dizzy. Never made her tingle down to her fingertips with the desire to do that mysterious act that men and women were supposed to love so much.

  That was so good it killed Mommy.

  Silvery explosions of fear and panic and resolve snapped her brain to attention for a second, but they were splashed down, melted, drowned by the gush of molten lava that was her body’s blood boiling away her brain’s ability to reason and control her lips, her limbs, and her pussy.

  Her tongue trailing down Duke’s neck inspired him to tip his chin up, offering a wide plane of delicious, dark chocolate skin. Victoria inhaled it loudly.

  “Oh my God, you smell so good,” she whispered. Her mind was spinning. “And you’re so soft.” Her wide-open mouth took in his flesh, sucking, tickling the sensitive nerves underneath.

  “Oh, baby girl,” he groaned. “Feels like fireworks in my neck.”

  She squirmed in the seat, rubbing her clit against the crotch of her pants, squeezing her pussy muscles. She could cum just like this.

  No! I can’t. This is beyond wrong. I have to stop.

  But as she nuzzled his neck and ran her hands over his rock hard pecks, wishing she had the nerve to touch the huge bulge in his pants, he was as irresistible as Mrs. Fields brownies. His lips and his skin were as moist and sweet and rich tasting as her favorite confection, but if she could exercise and bum off the extra calories from a brownie, how could she make amends with herself for this? For shimmying from the white elite at the top of the socio-economic ladder, all the way down into the black pit of inner city blight. How could she ever climb back up and out? If she got involved with this guy even for a minute, if he were a true thug, then he would never let her leave. Or maybe she’d get tangled up in his illegal enterprises and get in trouble with the law. Maybe she’d get pregnant. She stiffened. Pulled away. Leaned her head back on the seat. Languid, she kept her eyes closed, slowly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Please take me away.”

  Chapter 17

  Duke tapped the stereo to turn on his favorite R. Kelly CD as they crossed back over the Belle Isle Bridge. Beamer better have his ass back at Babylon with a good explanation about why he hadn’t answered his phone when Duke called from the restaurant. Twice. It wasn’t like Beamer’s goofy ass could forget what happened the last time he didn’t pick up the fucking phone when Duke called.

  As he drove, glancing at the dark blue river under the shadows of sunset, he flexed his jaw muscle to bite down the anger he felt toward Beamer and mixed-up-in-the-head Duchess. They needed to straighten out a few things before they got back to Babylon Street, which was just a few minutes away on the East Side.

  “Yo, Miss Daisy.” She was still lying back with her eyes closed. “If you tryin’ to snooze so you can wake up from this black dream, I got some news you can use as a reality check.”

  Her nipples poked through her shirt.

  Timbo was an iron rod. Damn, he couldn’t stay mad at her because she was so damn sexy. But that was what got him in trouble with Milan, being blinded by her sex and not seeing the evil scheming in them eyes.

  Naw, Duchess was different. The complete opposite, as a matter of fact, however he was feeling right now, it was all right. It was all going to work out perfectly, according to his vision.

  Part of him wanted to wait until Duchess was ready, which wouldn’t be long. If he changed his mind, he had plenty of pussies back at Babylon to take care of it in the meantime. Chanel, yeah, she was looking so fucking sexy at the party today. She’d be the one he’d call. But she was all sex.

  I want more. A chick who excite my body an’ my brain. Any other bitch who teased him like Duchess just did would never get away with it. He’d have something loud to say. Not that he’d do anything. Duke never took pussy that wasn’t offered. Shit, this afternoon he didn’t even take the pussy that was offered. But if a chick were a tease, he’d tell her something about herself. But Miss Daisy, being in such a clueless state of mind, was so horny she didn’t know up from down. No surprise then, that one taste of Duke and she was hooked. She would be back for more, especially after that nasty-ass cousin of hers tried to do a dyke dive on her tonight. If losing her daddy was making her feel anything like Duke had felt when Prince got killed, her mind was as mushy as a bowl of grits right now. He was surprised she hadn’t straight up lost it, at least for a minute.

  “I believe I can fly,” he sang softly as they wove through traffic. “I believe I can touch the sky.”

  She slapped the stereo, but rather than turn it off, she switched it to the radio. A male newscaster was saying, “New developments in the suicide scandal of millionaire businessman Dan Winston. The IRS is now producing documents that prove the suburban family man was laundering money for a powerful crime cartel that is expected to be named in an indictment.”

  Victoria sat up, eyes wide open, reaching to poke the dial into silence, but her fingers stopped midair.

  “Authorities are also re-opening the investigation into the mysterious death of Winston’s young black wife, and are now trying to locate the couple’s three biracial children for questioning.”

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, turning as white as her teeth. “One daughter in particular, Victoria, worked in Winston’s offices and may have crucial information about his suspicious business dealings.”

  Duke focused hard on the metallic green Crossfire sport coupe ahead of them. His left hand kept a cool grip on the bottom of the black leather steering wheel, but inside, he was grinning like a mug.

  I got her now. She gotta hide.

  She would hide in style, though, at Babylon, doing things that would flip a big ass middle finger at those fed ma’fuckas who killed her daddy and now wanted to rape her fine ass with their wicked ways of the white world.

  And what better way to hide than to turn black?

  Chapter 1
8

  Victoria slapped the stereo button.

  “Oh . . . my . . . God. They say it like I’m some armed and dangerous mafia princess. I’m eighteen!”

  She crossed her arms hard. Her bottom lip poked out and trembled. That news report set off a sob that was slicing through her gut, squeezing her chest, threatening to burst out of her sleep- deprived body.

  No, I will not have a breakdown in front of Duke. Never let ’em see you sweat. She maintained her hard, serious tone. “I’m never gonna talk to those wicked pricks again. After Daddy died, they questioned me with this accusatory tone, as if I’d shredded all the documents then pulled the trigger myself!”

  Actually, she had fed box after box of files into the shredder, all late on a Wednesday night while Daddy rummaged through boxes of papers he’d pulled out of the storeroom. Was he trying to hide something wrong that he’d done? Or had he been wrongly accused and wanted to make sure nothing in the office could be used against him?

  That sob zigzagged up her neck, making her throat swell into a hot, aching lump. Her head was light, spinning like a tornado inside. Fatigue fogged her mind.

  If she had helped Daddy destroy evidence of wrong-doing, did that make Victoria guilty of a crime? If the feds caught her, could they prosecute her and send her to jail?

  “Miss Winston,” Duke spoke with a cool, flat tone. “They got you on a BWB.”

  “No, I am totally innocent.” The corners of her mouth curled down. That sob was surging up, ricocheting around her mouth with her words. “I’m the victim! I have no parents, no nothing, now I’m thrown into the ghetto with a perfect stranger driving around aimlessly with no place to sleep tonight.”

  Duke swerved to the right. He screeched to a stop in front of a tall apartment building.

  “Now I really can’t go back to Gramma Green’s. The FBI is after me! Right?”

  The sob shot out. It was a gut churning groan that filled her burning eyes with tears. Hot droplets spilled down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook. She gulped air, exhaled hard. She couldn’t let Duke see her like this. He might think she was weak. Her open palms met her face as she bent toward her lap. There, in the darkness of her hands, with stinging eyes closed, she sobbed into the baby blue velour of her long legs.