Boss Divas (28 page)

H
eaven is hanging upside down, sucking on your nigga's monster-size cock while he eats your pussy like an all you can eat buffet. Club Diesel was a major success. Once Cleo kept out of my sight, I was able to enjoy myself. Diesel is a boss on the come-up here in Memphis and I want to be his ride or die. Right now, he has my pussy tuned up the way I like it.

Before this session is over, I'm twisted in all kinds of ways. I've long lost count of the number of nuts I done busted, but I must've passed out, 'cause I wake feeling drugged and the space next to me is empty. I bolt up to find Diesel sitting calmly across the room in a leather chaise, petting a large Doberman pinscher.

“Sleep well?”

Something about the way his eyes rake over me gives me pause. But then he smiles and my pussy thumps all over again. “What can I say?Your dick is a monster.”

“You got some good pussy.” His lips inch wider. “Maybe you should come work for me. Stack some paper.”

“
Work?
” My neck rocks to the side. “Nigga, I ain't no fuckin' hooker.”

“No. You're gonna need some tips and more practice before you work
up
to that level—but you got potential.”

“Potent—muthafucka!” I spring out of the bed.

The Doberman growls, barks, and then leaps from his master.

I reel back. “Nigga, do something about your damn dog!”

“Solomon, sit,” Diesel commands.

The dog sits.

I eye both the dog and its master. “What the fuck?”

Diesel laughs. “Calm down. As long as I'm around, he's harmless.”

“And when you're
not
around?”

Solomon growls again, and his white, fanged teeth glisten with thick slob.

Diesel's smile expands. “I hardly see a reason for that shit to ever happen—but if it does, my advice is to bend over and kiss your ass good-bye.” He snaps his fingers and Solomon returns to his side.

I reach for the top sheet to cover up.

“No. Don't do that,” he says. “I was enjoying the view.”

Stuck between being turned on and pissed off, I weigh whether I'm going to follow his order.

“Please,” he adds, easing the tension between us.

Giving in, I lower the sheet.

“Lay back and spread your legs.”

My heart trips around in my chest as I ease back against the pillows and open my legs.

“Open your pussy.”

Biting my lower lip, I glide my hands between my legs and peel open my juicy lips so that my pink clit pokes out to say hi.

“Nice.” Diesel whips his cock out of his black briefs. “Play with it.”

I smile, liking where this is headed. I dip my hands low and ease two fingers into my slick pussy. After a few deep strokes, I press two more fingers inside and get a good rhythm going.

High off the wet, slopping sounds my pussy makes, Diesel pumps his fat cock to my rhythm. We're both caught up watching each other.

The pressure in the base of my clit builds, and my breathing thins and becomes choppy.

Diesel stands and walks toward the bed, his hand still pumping his fat cock. “Don't stop,” he tells me while pre-come drips like clear, maple syrup over my titties. The shit is so pretty that it sends me over the edge.

“Aaaaaaahhhhhh.”

Growling, Diesel's head rocks back as warm come spray-paints my body.

Once I catch my breath, Diesel sits next to me on the bed and pulls out some goodies from the top nightstand drawer.

“You down?” he asks, chopping lines in some blue candy. Hell. I bet if he turned off the lights the shit would glow.

“What's that?”

“Something that will fuckin' blow your mind. Best shit that you'll ever taste. Believe me.”

My curiosity is piqued. “For real?” I look at the pretty lines again.

“Wanna hit?”

“Sure. Why not?”

He smiles and hands over a small crystal tube. “Ladies first.”

I put the shit to my nose and attempt to snort up a fat line. I don't get but a few crystals up my nose before I jump back with my nostrils on fire.

“FUCK!” I squeeze, rub, and try to wipe it out of my nose. “What the hell is that shit?”

“Easy. Easy.” He presses a hand against my chest. “Ride the wave, baby girl. Ride the wave.”

I try to relax, but my heart races while I twitch and bounce in place.

“That's it,” he soothes.

In the next second, the world melts away and my head feels like its floating off my shoulders.

“You like that, Scar?”

“
Fuuuuuck yeah
,” I croak.

“Good. Good.” He sets the mirror aside and slides next to me.
Did he do a line, too?
I don't know or at least, I'm not sure.

“I want you to feel real good,” he says.

Mission accomplished.
Whatever this shit is, it's better than sex. Every cell in my body is having an orgasm.

“Scar, can you hear me?” Diesel asks.

“Mmmm-hmmm.”

“Good.” He presses his hand in between my thighs to play with my sensitive clit. “I wanna ask you a few questions—and I want you to tell me the truth. You think you can do that?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Good. Now tell me how you know my cousin's wife, LeShelle Murphy?”

I
bolt through my front door with Dime close on my heels.

“Ta'Shara. Ta'Shara,” she keeps hissing behind me.

Go away and leave me alone.
I thread my way through the crowd, but bounce around like a pinball as I bump into one chick after another.

“Hey! Where's the beer?” Mack shouts. She's on the couch, holding court.

When I blaze past her without answering, she shouts, “Hey, T! Where are you going?”

I ignore her again.

Mack shifts her focus. “Dime!”

“Later,” Dime snaps, remaining hot on my trail. I reach the hall bathroom and attempt to slam the door shut, but Dime isn't having any of that.

I don't have time to argue since I go straight to the toilet bowl and retch.

“Jesus,” Dime says, closing the door behind her.

Fuck her. I heave until my stomach muscles seize up.

“Are you going to be all right?”

“I don't understand what the fuck just happened.”

“You blasted that shotgun-toting jihadist's head off. You had to. He was about to murk our asses. We'd be lying on that liquor store floor next to my girls Nisha and Emerald. Thank God you're a quick shot. Where in the hell did you learn how to shoot like that?”

“Are you kidding me? It was fuckin' luck! I just learned how to shoot today.”

“Humph. Well, you're a natural. You saved our asses. Now we just gotta get our story straight and everything is going to be cool.”

My stomach knots and I retch for another five minutes.
Some boss diva I am
.

The bathroom door rattles.

“Ta'Shara?” Mack yells. “Are you all right in there?”

“She's fine,” Dime shouts back.

Mack opens the door and pokes her head inside. “What the fuck? Why can't she answer for herself?”

Dime turns to challenge her. “Do you mind? We're having a private conversation.”

“That would mean something to me
if
I was talking to you.”

“Bitch—”

“OUT!” I shout, swiping the spittle from my mouth. “GET OUT.”

Dime flashes Mack a smug smile.

“Both of you,” I clarify. “NOW!”

Dime spins her wide eyes toward me and I ignore her to tell Mack, “Get her out of here.”

Mack returns the smug smile as she holds open the door. “You heard her.”

“Fine. Whatever,” Dime addresses me again. “We'll talk later.” She storms out.

Mack lingers. “Are you all right?”

“Just go,” I plea.

“All right. I'm going.” She exits the bathroom and closes the door behind her.

I jam my hand into my pants pocket and scoop out my cell phone to call Profit—but the call goes straight to voice mail.

“Noooo.” I disconnect the call and dial again.

Voice mail.

“Damn it, Profit. Where in the fuck are you?”

I
feel so fucking good. I'm riding a star across the sky and I don't give a shit if my ass never comes back to Earth. I'm tied down, spread eagle, Diesel's fat tongue lapping my pussy like he's a starved man.

“Look at your nasty ass.” Diesel's voice floats to me.

At the praise, my body convulses in the nest of tangled, silk sheets. My mind zooms to another galaxy. Whatever that shit was I snorted, it got me twisted up real good.

“More . . . more . . . more,” I repeat like a scratched CD.

Diesel's deep, rumbling laugh surrounds me. In the back of my head, I'm aware there's a few sinister notes in there too, but I can't get myself to give a damn.

“Lick it all up, boy. That's it. She loves that shit.”

One solitary warning bell goes off in my head, but I'm still stuck on one word. “More. More. More.”

Another warning bell.

Somehow I find the strength to peel open my eyes. Everything is blurry and spinning around. I blink a few times, but I'm confused to how Diesel is sitting beside me while there's a steady lapping against my clit.

I blink again. “More?”

“Whatever makes you happy, you dirty bitch.” There's no smile on his lips when he say this. He dips his fingers into ajar and pulls out what looks like globs of honey. My eyes track his fingers as he then smears the honey into my pussy.

“Lick it up, boy.”

I look down between my legs just as his
dog,
Solomon, bows his head and licks up the honey.

“More . . . more . . . more.”
Shit. I'm about to come.
I grab hold of my bondages and inch up the bed away from the dog's tongue, but this orgasm is coming whether I want it to or not.

“More . . . more . . . moooooorrrrreeee!” Another mind-shattering explosion detonates and my mind warps and the next time that I open my eyes it must be hours later because the silk ties from my hands and legs are gone and the bedroom is once again empty.

“What the fuck?” I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed. When I attempt to stand up, a low growl come from somewhere across the room.

I know this muthafucka hasn't left me alone with this crazy ass dog. I sniff the air and catch the sweet smell of honey. A memory surfaces and my stomach pitches around until I have to make a mad dash toward the adjoining bathroom.

The dog takes off after me, but I reach the bathroom first and slam the door.

The dog crashes into the door. I drop in front the toilet and empty my guts. It goes on and on until I'm dry heaving and cramping.What seems like a lifetime later, I collapse to the floor, sweating profusely.

What the fuck is happening to me?
I keep asking that question until my eyes grow heavy and my mind numbs against the cool marble floor.

In a blink, iced-cold water hits my face and I jolt up.

“Welcome back,” Diesel says, laughing.

Blinking and sputtering, I glance around. I'm still in the bathroom, but in the shower.

“You gave me a little scare there,” he says. His eyes say otherwise. I get the impression that he wouldn't think twice about burying my ass in the backyard if I overdosed.

The idea chills me more than the shower's cold water.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

I nod while searching my memory to what happened. There's a lot of missing pieces and some pieces I worry whether they're real or not. How in the fuck do I ask whether or not he had his damn dog eat me out while I was drugged?

“Here. Let me warm this water up and get you some towels so you can clean yourself up. It'll probably make you feel better.” He turns on the hot water and then leaves.

Feeling that I have my bearings, I reach for his bottle of liquid soap and wash my body with my hands.While I wash, I review my choppy memory again. I'm not sure about much of it, but I remember throwing up, the dog, the honey, orgasms, the drugs—the questioning. I stop. He asked a lot of questions.

What did he ask?

What did I say?

I don't know, but I have a sickening feeling that I fucked up. I rack my brain for twenty minutes before shutting off the shower. When I step out, fresh towels are sitting on the vanity. I wrap the largest one around me and then creep back into the bedroom.

Diesel is getting dressed.

Stunned, I blink. “Going somewhere?”

“I have some business I have to tend to,” he says, shrugging. “I called you a cab.”

“What?”

“I would take you back home myself... but it's out of my way.”

He's so cold, my feelings trip up. I look around the room. “Where's Solomon?”

“Miss him, do you?”

Heat blazes up my face. “I'm having some problems remembering some shit.What the hell happened?”

“Only what you asked for.” He laughs.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He glances over his shoulder. “It means get your shit so I can roll the hell up out of here.” A muscle twitches along his temple. “Get. Dressed.”

“You sick muthafucka!” I launch toward him with fists flying. I get two good hits in before this nigga backhands me so hard that I fly across the room. Before I can peel myself up, Diesel is on top of me, unleashing holy hell with his closed fist. “Bitch, you got me fucked up.” He growls.

With each punch of his fist, the pain multiplies.

“STOP!”

“Nah, bitch. I've done warned you about getting turned up with me.”

“STOP!”

“You're fuckin' with the wrong nigga with this shit.”

“STOP. STOP. Please stop!”

His fists are unrelenting. He keeps punching until he's either tired or bored. When he finally climbs off of me, I can't see. I can't yell. I can't breathe.

“You're going to learn. I'm going to train your ass if it's the last muthafuckin' thing I do,” he vows, hovered above me. To make his point, he kicks the fuck out of me and then stalks off. Coughing and choking on my own blood, I struggle to sit up.

“Your fucking cab is here,” he says, pressing his clothes back in place in front of the mirror. “Get your shit and get out.”

Despite feeling like shit on a stick, I scramble for my clothes.

“You better not miss that muthafucka,” he threatens.

Scared, I stumble out of the bedroom, still dressing as I go. Tears blur my vision as I hop into the backseat of the cab and give the driver my address.

The old man takes one look at my fucked-up face and flinches.

“Go!”

“Yes, ma'am.” He shifts the car into drive.

After a final look at the house, I swipe my tears. “Fuck you, nigga.”

Diesel's deep baritone floats around my head “
How do you know my cousin's wife LeShelle Murphy?”

Fuck.

BANG!
A car sideswipes the cab.

The taxi careens and swerves over the road before the driver pulls over and hits the brakes.

I'm tossed around and I bang my head on the window.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“Yeah. What the fuck happened?”

“I'm about to find out,” he says, opening his door. But the minute he hops out a single gunshot sends him crashing back into the car.

“What the fuck?”

The back door jerks open, and then the one chick I least expect pops inside with a gun aimed at my head.

“Surprise, bitch. Remember me?”