Sex in the Hood Saga

by White Chocolate

  Don’t they know I’m ten steps ahead of them and everyone else?

  There was one glitch though. Knight didn’t know where Duke was staying. The Barriors had followed Reba to The Suites downtown hotel, and even identified Duke’s room. But when they busted in to take care of him and eliminate this need for plan Q altogether, the Barriors found the room abandoned.

  All they found were a used, broken condom on the disheveled bed and some bloody bandages in the bathroom. The Barriors had reported back that fresh funk and sex vapors hung heavily in the warm air, so it was clear that Duke and a now infected female had just fled.

  We’ll find him.

  But plan Q would still be in effect. Just in case the likes of Shar Miller and other conspirators had any ideas about claiming the millions in cash that would be on the premises the night of The Games.

  “Now, assuming that you do not get the star signal, and everything is going smoothly,” Knight said, “I’m dividing you into driving teams for the drop.”

  The men and women nodded.

  “When Ping and Pong make the drop in Hummer One,” Knight said, “we’ll have three decoy vehicles. Three other black armored Hummers will take separate routes: one to the vault at HQ; another to a boat down river; and the third to the warehouse.”

  The warehouse owned by Jamal, who by then, would be the rightful owner of Babylon.

  But these turncoat backstabbers didn’t need to know that. Nobody did.

  Until I’m gone with my Queen and little Prince.

  Knight’s insides smiled while his face maintained a serious expression. He and The Queen had decided that they would name their son after Knight’s older brother. Baby Prince would live a life far away from the violent streets, gunfire, and turf wars that had claimed his uncle. On their island paradise, Prince would study, smile, play, and prepare for a life of greatness. Our Prince of Peace.

  The night before, Knight and The Queen had thought, then said exactly those words, “Our Prince of Peace” at the same time. Their simultaneous thoughts and spoken words were so sudden and supernatural. Now, suddenly Knight felt warm inside. The Queen was thinking the same thing, feeling the same amazing sensations. This time their soul deep connection had transcended words.

  He’d have to be careful, though, so she didn’t get any hunches about his real plans for their wedding night and the rest of their lives.

  “This information does not leave the confines of these slimy walls,” Knight commanded. “Does everybody hear me?”

  A Barrior named, Deuce, stepped forward with a grim expression. “Master Knight,” he said softly, “I can’t swim. I need a reassignment up in The Playhouse, or I’ll drown in a Motor City minute.”

  Knight glared at him, not just because the cat just used one of Li’l Tut’s favorite references for time.

  “All of you took rigorous swimming tests as part of Boot Camp,” Knight said with an accusatory tone. He nodded at Pong, who stepped close to the cat. “If you somehow cheated, give me the name of the Sergeant who helped you commit fraud against Babylon.”

  The Barrior squealed like a girl. “Sir, I ain’t tryin’ to get nobody in trouble. I take full responsibi—”

  Pong whacked him across the mouth.

  “Do you realize that your cowardice could have put your fellow Barriors and B’Amazons at risk?” Knight shouted. “Gett ’em outta here!”

  Knight’s phone vibrated. REBA flashed on the display screen. He pushed the little silver button to put her to voice mail. Didn’t that bitch remember he’d told her never to call him again? “Now everybody hit the gym,” Knight ordered. “Sixty minutes of cardio kickboxing. Now!”

  The phone vibrated again. REBA. He flipped it open. “What?” he snapped.

  “I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’ you don’t already know when I say Duke tryin’ to bring you down,” she said with a nasal tone, like she’d been crying. “But that nasty ho playin’ wit’ people lives.”

  “Reba,” Knight said calmly, “have you talked with him?”

  “Yeah, ’bout how he gon’ take Babylon back. But he sick. He crazy. He done gone renegade!”

  “Where is he?”

  “I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’ else wit’out cuttin’ a deal. So I can g-t-f-o when I need to.”

  Knight started to propose that she meet him somewhere to talk. But was this a set-up? Was she going to lure him to a remote place so that Duke could pounce on him?

  She’s for real. His intuition said. Go.

  But where? He needed someplace where nobody would see them, and if prying eyes did catch a glimpse of their meeting, he’d have a legitimate explanation.

  “Reba, meet me by the bar in The Garage. Fifteen minutes.”

  Chapter 79

  As they stepped into the elevator and its doors closed, The Queen, CoCo, and Honey talked about plans for the dickfest that was scheduled for tonight in The Garage. Babylon would be hosting the VIP after-party for some of the country’s hottest female rappers, who were giving a sold out concert downtown.

  “Make sure the bar is stocked,” The Queen said as CoCo used her pink rhinestone pen to check-off tasks on her clipboard. “We need some extra Studs to walk around with bowls of condoms, hot wash cloths, and bags for the wrappers.”

  As her mind reviewed all the tasks they had to complete that day, The Queen stared at the way Honey’s tits curved up and out of the top of her dress.

  A hot, swollen sensation delighted her between her legs. But Celeste was feeling something else too. Something about Knight. It was hazy and vague, like he was deliberately blocking their supernatural mind connection right now, which he seemed to be doing a lot lately so she wouldn’t know what he was thinking or doing.

  The stomach flipping sensations of the descending elevator intensified this out-of-whack vibe that she didn’t like. She had to figure out what the hell was causing this, so she could squash that shit. With all the work they had to do, the last thing she needed was this distraction.

  But deep down, it wasn’t that she thought he was fucking around or anything like that. It was more like he was scheming, or plotting something that would affect her. Like he was making decisions about her life and Babylon without consulting with her first. If they truly were a team, working as partners to make Babylon all that it could be, then she needed to contribute to any and every decision and plan.

  “Queen,” CoCo said, “come back to Babylon. You lost in outerspace.”

  The Queen shook her head to focus her thoughts back on that night’s party. “The last time Emcee Sexarella and her crew were up in here,” she said, “they wore the Studs out. These girls some crazy nymphomaniac bitches. So I want extra Barriors and B’Amazons on hand to keep they shit in check.”

  CoCo nodded. “I have here that she ordered fifty Sluts as well.”

  The Queen smiled. “Yeah, the freaky bitch.”

  As the elevator hummed past the VIP balcony, The Queen noticed how the recessed lighting cast a soft glow around her and her inner circle. “Hey, y’all, look.” The Queen smiled and motioned for them to turn and face the mirror next to the row of elevator buttons. “Check us out. Fine, fabulous an’ runnin’ the shit!”

  The Queen loved the sense of camaraderie she felt with CoCo and Honey. Sometimes the three of them would sit in flannel pajamas up in The Penthouse, pop some corn, and watch corny romantic comedies on the huge, flat-screen TV in her and Knight’s home theatre. Other times, they’d hit the upscale Somerset Collection to shop, go to the Nordstrom Spa, and have lunch at P.F. Chang’s. And they always worked out together in the Babylon gym for sexercise, exotic dance lessons, cardio, and strength training.

  “Friends for life,” CoCo said, holding both their hands.

  The Queen smiled. “Oh, before I forget,” The Queen said, “we gotta meet wit’ the seamstress after this. Up at The Penthouse.”

  CoCo nodded. “I told her to bring your veil and our shoes and purses. This is the final fitting before the big
day.”

  Honey’s face beamed, “Queen, you inspire me so much. You got the fairytale we all dream about.”

  The Queen kissed their cheeks. “You’re both livin’ it too. So let’s get this work done so we can play!”

  Everything was running smoothly but she just couldn’t’ shake that strange feeling in her gut about Knight. Was he all right?

  Knight, baby, talk to me.

  All she heard was the tapping of their heels on the floor as they walked quickly past rows and rows of Navigators, Hummers, and Escalades. On raised platforms, a red H2, a gold Lamborghini, and a baby blue Bentley sparkled like new.

  In a matter of hours, every inch of this giant space would be “orgified” with hundreds of girl rappers, their groupies, and as many Studs fucking them up, down, and sideways. Sitting on top of cars, bending over the bar, twisting up on the plush cobalt blue couches situated in cozy seating areas, and on the stage.

  “Where the hell are the cages?” The Queen demanded as she pointed to the huge, black stage that was framed by towering speakers. “Emcee Sexarella specifically ordered four cages, two on the stage and two on raised platforms with dancing Studs inside.”

  CoCo checked her clipboard. “The cages are scheduled for installment within the hour.” She pointed to a bed that was the size of a boxing ring, sitting in the center of the stage. “The crew set up the bed first.”

  “Ok, great. Make sure they stock the bar with all what the girl drinks. Supplies too.” The Queen scanned the glass shelves holding hundreds of bottles of booze and glasses. “Emcee Sexarella only drinks shit that’s blue, but her crew loves them green apple cosmopolitans.”

  “Mmmmm,” Honey said. “Me too. I personally made sure this morning that we’ve got extra cases of the mix. And the bartenders know how to mix ’em just right.” Her nipples hardened and poked through the front of her dress. “I’ll never forget the party she had last year when she had those four Studs fuck her so long, one of them passed out.”

  CoCo laughed, but The Queen stiffened.

  Could Knight be passed out somewhere right now?

  A low rumble echoed through The Garage. The sound underscored The Queen’s worries. Blinding sunshine poured in as the huge metal door rose.

  Knight, baby, how come the telepathic shit don’t work when I’m stressin’? Celeste answered, Relax. He’s handling business.

  “Babylon!” The deep chorus of many voices boomed into the huge, hollow space. Their cadence made it sound like a military chant as they exclaimed, “Babylon” with a proud upward swing at the end, like U.S. military leaders bark, “Attention!”

  The Queen, CoCo, and Honey turned to watch part of the army file in with a gust of strength and sex power that was so strong, every tiny hair on The Queen’s body stood on end.

  “Damn, that’s sexy as hell,” The Queen whispered as CoCo and Honey watched on.

  Jogging toward them were four columns of twelve shirtless men in black-white-gray camouflage pants. Their black combat boots hit the floor in unison to create a powerful rhythm.

  These were Barriors, whose work originally, was strictly security. But Babylon was growing so fast, she was recruiting many of them to work as Studs as well.

  She checked out the sexy contours of the men’s broad backs as they marched up the staircase in the far corner, making their way to the gym. That valley of muscle around a man’s spine was so damn sexy, she just gawked at the marvels of the male anatomy. But no man was as sexy as Knight.

  Thinking of Knight brought that bad feeling in her gut again.

  “Babylon!” a female chorus chanted over and over as the B’Amazons now marched into the garage. Also sporting fatigues and boots except they wore tank tops and bras.

  “Huuuuuut!” a deep female voice called.

  This cornucopia of women was a beautiful sight. They radiated an aura of woman power so strong that The Queen wished she could bottle it and hand it out to every insecure girl on the planet. That was the power of Babylon, which was tattooed on the women’s chiseled biceps. They followed the men up the stairs. Not far from them, a circular staircase led up to the VIP balcony.

  “Honey,” The Queen said, “make sure they got buckets for jimmy wrappers up there. And ashtrays.”

  She did a 180 to face the row of doors in the wall leading out from the bar. “CoCo, make sure they locked those doors. We don’t need nobody fuckin’ in the supply rooms and offices—”

  An ear-splitting siren blared.

  “Oh my God!” The Queen shouted. She cupped her palms over her ears as the noise echoed horribly off the floor and walls of The Garage.

  “It’s a test of the alarm system,” CoCo shouted.

  The Queen read her lips because it was impossible to hear her.

  “Gotta check it for The Games.”

  The siren amped up that vibe that something wasn’t right with Knight. How long would that noise last? She, CoCo, and Honey stood covering their ears, looking around.

  Knight, where are you?

  The Queen wanted to phone Paul and tell him, “Yes, the alarm works in The Garage—now turn that shit off!” But he’d never hear her over the phone, so she looked around helplessly. She noticed that one of the office doors was opening.

  And out stepped Knight with Reba.

  Chapter 80

  The crimson velvet couches inside one of D-town’s hottest nightclubs set the perfect tone for Duke to hold this first meeting with the leaders of his coup. Up here in the VIP lounge, with its sexy Moroccan decor, Duke took a minute to congratulate himself. Because downstairs in the many private rooms, lounges, and dance bar areas of the club, the first pussy party thrown by Oz was in full effect. And the folks who would rake in all that bank were sitting right here before the young wizard of their new Emerald City.

  “How e’rybody feel tonight?” Duke asked, raising his crystal flute as butt-naked waitresses poured Cristal for him and his new crew. Timbo was staying hard at the idea that Duke was in another world, one very different from the crack houses where he’d puffed away his troubles over the last year.

  The Duke back to rule like the king that I am.

  The light of low hanging, fringed red lamps cast a sexy pink glow over the waitresses’ asses and titties as they walked on clear spike heels to pour bubbly for everybody. Shar Miller with her Stud and Baby Blue, Leroy Lewis, Raynard “Dickman” Ingalls, Red, Marco, and Liam Moreno with that big black bodyguard, their white local operations managers, B-Boy and Birdie, the Stud Antoine, and Duke’s lady, Reba Sheba.

  She’d been one crazy bitch after that condom broke. But a gold-digging ho always got what she deserved. He was using her just like she was using him, and they’d both get their due in the end. Plus, her days were numbered anyway, because she’d get tossed out like yesterday’s meat scraps once he got his Duchess back.

  But I ain’t gonna stop fuckin’ in the interim.

  Since Doc Reynolds had gotten him all that medication and he’d been eating better, his skin was clearing up and he was putting on a little weight. At twenty-one, Duke was already middle-aged for a brotha from the hood. So if he lived another ten, or twenty, years on the HIV drugs, he’d be doing better than a lot of other muthafuckas he knew.

  Plus, whoever he infected, whether Reba or even his Duchess, their status would keep them together in life and in death.

  I won’t have to worry about her givin’ my fortune to some otha nigga after I go, ’cause she’ll go wit’ me.

  Duke suddenly stood taller and felt stronger than he had in a year. Even the constant ache of his healing bullet wounds subsided. He suddenly felt ridiculously powerful and invincible. It was his destiny to rule like a king. And if he had to knock off his brother and steal his lady back to do that, then so be it.

  And so it is written, and so it is done.

  “Here’s a toast to the zillions we gon’ make from D-town to ’round the world,” Duke said, raising his glass. “Bigger an’ better an’ bolder than B
abylon.”

  Glasses clinked as everybody toasted each other.

  “Now, we gon’ talk bidness for a hot minute to make sure we all on point for the night of The Games when the real shit go down. Then we gon’ celebrate.”

  Something in Moreno’s eyes still didn’t feel right. Yeah, this was honor among thieves. And yeah, Moreno had the overseas contacts and expertise to handle the bank accounts where they’d deposit the millions from The Games. But Duke had to find some leverage to wield over Moreno’s sneaky ass.

  Let that muthafucka know The Duke don’t play.

  The funky electric beat from the party downstairs was loud enough in there to get several folks bobbing their heads. And not just in the dancing way.

  Three of the waitresses were already on their knees in front of the Moreno triplets. Their pretty asses aimed back at Duke as they sucked dick.

  “I said we’d party after we talk bidness,” Duke said loudly.

  “We heard you,” Red said, smiling, and squinting behind the smoke of a Cohiba cigar. “Talk on, my brother. I am very gifted with the ability to multitask.”

  Duke stared back at him with a look that said, I don’t like that shit one bit. But that night he’d let it slide.

  Moreno kept a hard stare on Duke as the chick’s head rose and fell in his lap. His feet were wide apart on the crimson carpet as her suntanned body rested between his legs.

  “Now,” Duke said. “We gotta handle the logistics of the money drops. Antoine, tell us what you know.”

  Wearing denim overalls with no shirt, Antoine stood and shared everything that Ben had heard in the tunnel when Knight explained how they’d deliver the loot by boat.

  “Who gon’ be at the vault wit’ you?” Duke asked.

  “He ain’t tol’ us yet,” Antoine said, “but Crew Q got a meetin’ in a couple days. Then I’ll know.”

  “Cool,” Duke said. “Shar, you in charge of—”

  She was following Moreno’s bad example. Her Stud, who never seemed to wear a shirt, was kneeling on the floor in front of her, eating her pussy. Baby Blue was sitting next to her, licking all over her titties. “Transportation,” she said, opening her eyes. “Here’s a list of the vehicles and boats, the drivers and their cell phone numbers, their locations and their projected pick-up times.”