Pride (4 page)

“Oh, shit…” I threw my arms above my head and spread my legs as wide as they would go. My hips started thrusting in eager circles as I anticipated that first hot flick of his tongue on my wet lower lips. “I like it, baby…” I confessed as I gripped his soft, wavy hair and urged him to get down lower. “I like it, Gino…I like it…” He cupped my ass-cheeks in his big palms, but he was moving too slow and I damn near climbed up his face trying to get my pussy sucked.

Gino zeroed in on my clit, taking it between his lips and flicking it until it swelled and pulsated inside his mouth. Sweet fire shot through me and I arched my back and pressed myself deeper into his face as my first orgasm tore through me so hard it curled my toes. “Ahhh!” I moaned. “I like it, I like it, goddamn, baby! I like it!”

“I like it too,” he moaned, sliding two fingers inside me as deeply as they would go. He withdrew them to rub my wet clit, then slid them back inside me. The next time he pulled them out he added another finger, and those three fingers went to work on my g-spot until I screamed and arched my back and a gush of hot cum shot all over his fingers.

“Oh, baby!” I wailed. I gripped his wrist and my hips humped feverishly as he slowed his rhythm. He slid his fingers out of me and brought them to his lips. He licked the last two, but held his pointer finger out to me so I could get a taste.

“You so damn sweet, baby,” he told me as he leaned forward and covered my lips with his. “So damn sweet…”

I wanted to taste his cum too, but he wasn’t having it. Gripping his meat with both hands, Gino pressed the tip of his dick to my wet hole, then spread my juices over my clit in a circular motion.

I felt myself stiffening down there. My clit became swollen and that delicious fire sparked up in me again.

“Put it in,” I told him as the head of his dick sloshed around in my stuff. He slid his fat cap inside me, but then stopped. I felt his wood vibrating at the entryway to my tunnel, and I clamped down with my muscles and squeezed and contracted until he groaned and tiny beads of sweat popped out on his forehead.

“
Umphh
!” he grunted as he penetrated me with a deep, hard thrust. His hips moved back and forth as he pounded my pussy with the short, rough strokes he knew got me off. I spread my legs even wider, then lifted them straight up in the air before wrapping them tightly around his waist.

“Give it to me, baby,” I urged, my hands clamping down on his bulging triceps as my hips rose from the bed to match his strokes. “Gimme that cum, Gino,” I begged. “Fill my pussy up!”

And that’s exactly what he did too. Gino seemed to forget all about me as he gripped my ass then pummeled my pelvis with his. I knew his nut was rising when he started digging and grinding, thrusting as deep as he could go, then holding himself in place and swirling his dick around inside me.

That combination of moves ignited a wave of pleasure in my clit, and my nails raked down his back as sweet release flooded both of us.

“I’m cumming, baby,” Gino yelled. He banged my wet pussy two more times, real hard. “I’m cumming, Juicy,” he panted as his sweat and love mixed with mine and clung to our flesh. “Yeah, baby. All this good cum is for you!”

$$$$$

I was a native New Yorker down to my bones, but as I zipped down the streets of L.A. I looked just like any other yummy from the Sunshine State. I was heading to Compton, to my girlfriend DarQuese’s hair salon. I had on a pair of designer jeans and a white tank top. The California sun was hot on my shoulders as I dropped the top and floored the gas pedal in my sweet, two-door BMW sports convertible.

Gino had surprised me with the car as my Valentine’s Day gift, and the money-green whip with the buttery cream interior was really something hot. Gino had named it the Green Gotcha because he said it caught mad looks and got everybody’s attention.

My body was still tingling from Gino’s lovemaking as I drove down the suburban streets and entered the highway. My loose hair blew in the breeze as the little Green Gotcha responded to my commands. Six months ago nobody could have told me I would have a driver’s license and be pushing my very own whip, and I smiled as I thought about the day Gino had presented me with the car as a gift of his love.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” Gino had said as he opened our front door. His sexy brown eyes had been full of pride as he gazed at the spanking new special edition Beemer parked in our driveway.

“Damn, Gino!” I’d screamed as I ran outside. “This little mami is sweet!”

He held out his hand and a key clicker dangled from his finger. “Damn right she’s sweet,” he said, following me outside. “I paid cold cash for this little Green Gotcha and she’s all yours.”

“But I thought you said we were gonna keep it low?” I had asked as I circled the two-door whip slowly, checking it out from all angles. “This ain’t hardly low.”

Thanks to the countless bricks of cash that G had stashed in Grandmother’s grave, Gino could afford to buy me practically any car he wanted to buy. For the first time in my life I had more money than I knew what to do with. In fact, we had rolled into Cali with so much cash that finding someplace safe to stash it had become one of our biggest issues.

Gino had landed a plush job just two days after we arrived in L.A. Some big-shot land development organization had sent him an email saying they were looking for an architect to design some new structures. Gino had jumped all over it, and The Organization had hired him right away.

The head boss was a tall, chunky Italian guy named Frankie Sanvenero. He was from Brooklyn, like Gino, which we thought was a cool coincidence. Big Frank had six brothers and too many nephews to count, and all of them had relocated out west to work for him.

Gino’s first interview with them took place on a members-only golf course, and he had come home open like a book. He said The Organization’s business plan was tighter than anything he had ever seen on Wall Street and that they didn’t even consider going after a contract unless the starting bid was at least three mil.

It wasn’t long before me and Gino started hanging out with the Sanveneros, especially Frank, who was about fifty, and his cute wife Renata, who was a lot younger than him. Frank was real tall with jet-black hair, beautiful blue eyes, and a big jolly belly, and Renata was about my height, but very neat and petite with blond-streaked curls.

One of Frank’s nephews was a tall, buff dude about our age. His name was Salvatore McCain, but everybody called him Slick Sallie. Him and Gino had connected on the Brooklyn tip, and since Sallie didn’t have a car and they were both die-hard Knicks fans, they rode to work together every day and played one-on-one basketball almost every weekend.

The Organization had become our family on the West Coast, and they looked out for us. They had even helped us get a sweet, two-bedroom condo in a gated subdivision. It wasn’t Central Park West, but it was a long way from 136th Street and I was feeling it.

One of the first things Gino had insisted on when we got to Cali was that we keep the Feds off us. That meant we had to make sure we didn’t do like Hansel and Gretel and leave a trail of breadcrumbs leading to our front door. If we were going to hide our shitload of cream and stay off the Fed’s radar, we would have to stash G’s cash out of sight and live mostly off the money we earned legally.

We knew better than to go near a bank with all that drug loot, so as soon as we moved into our condo Gino went and installed a fireproof metal safe in the crawl space in the attic. He stacked about a hundred and fifty grand inside that baby, but he took the rest out of the house for safekeeping.

“We’ll use the money in the attic as our emergency stash,” he had explained. “But we gotta bury the rest for when we retire, Juicy. And I mean we gotta bury it real deep.”

“Oh, God,” I had muttered feeling sick to my stomach. “We’re not gonna hide it in no dead person’s grave, are we?” Just thinking about how G had stashed all his dirty greenbacks in Grandmother’s casket made me want to throw up.

Gino had shaken his head. “Nah. I’m not putting it in no grave, but I am putting it underground. Sallie’s moms got a wine cellar in her house. I’m gonna stash it in the dirt down there.”

I had to think about that one real hard.

“I don’t know, Gino…they might call him Slick Sallie for a reason. You trust that white dude like that? Every time I see him he’s got a gun sticking outta his clothes somewhere. He looks like a dabbler to me.”

“Nah, Sal don’t be getting high. He drives too fast so he lost his license and he’s always bumming a ride, but other than that he’s straight. Dude looks out for me at work all the time.”

He saw the doubtful way I was eyeing him.

“What? You think I should stash it with Frankie and Renata instead?”

I shook my head real quick. “Nah. Frank’s your boss. He’s real nice, but I don’t want him and Renata all up in our business like that.”

“A’ight, then I got this,” Gino said. “Sallie might be slick but he ain’t no fool. He’s gonna know where the safe is stashed, but he won’t have the combination. You’ll be the only one who can get up in it.”

“But what if something happens and I need to get my hands on the money for some reason?”

“Then you just call Sallie and he’ll bring the safe to you. It’ll be just like this one, but bigger. And don’t worry, it’ll have the exact same combination that this one has.”

And now, looking at the pricey green sports car made it pretty obvious that Gino had recently dipped his fingers into that retirement safe. We had already agreed that there weren’t gonna be any wild shopping sprees, or big cash purchases for expensive items, so I was kinda surprised that he had spent so much money to get me a Beemer.

“But are you feelin’ it?” Gino had wanted to know as I climbed inside the fresh whip and checked out all the little bells and whistles and special features.

“Hell yeah I’m feeling it,” I admitted as I pushed down on the brake and the gas with both feet at the same time. “But I don’t even know how to drive, baby!”

Gino had shrugged. “That’s only because you’re a New Yorker and nobody ever taught you. You’re real smart, Juicy. You’ll be spinning this baby in no time.”

Something inside of me had still resisted.

“But won’t a BMW and your brand new SUV sitting side-by-side in the driveway look like too much? You musta dropped a hunk for this baby.”

Gino had nodded. “A gwap,” he bragged proudly, “but that’s what you got a dude like me for, baby. To give you the best.”

“I know,” I insisted. “But what about the Feds?”

“Don’t worry about none of that,” Gino had told me. “If the Feds come knocking then The Organization will cover for us.”

I had accepted Gino’s logic, and now as I gripped the creamy leather steering wheel, I snuck a glance at my diamond engagement ring and wondered if the Feds or anybody else was watching our spending habits and clocking our doe.

The ring was a sick hunk of diamond-shaped ice that stretched from the base of my finger damn near all the way up to my knuckle. It had belonged to Gino’s mother back in the day. In fact, it was the engagement ring that G had given her before their wedding. Gino’s aunt had sent it to us when he called to tell her we were getting married. She said it was part of a custom-designed set that G had gotten made somewhere in Asia.

I would have been just as happy with a smaller, less lavish ring, and sometimes I wondered if Gino was trying to compete with his father by showering me with expensive gifts all the time when we were supposed to be hiding our money and keeping it low.

I mean, really. The condo, the sports car, the ring. All that flossing. I didn’t require none of that stuff because Grandmother had raised me and Jimmy humble and brought us up Vienna-sausage poor. But like his father, Gino always insisted on giving me the best. Finery might have been in his blood, but there was something about a man’s ego that I just didn’t understand. Being proud wasn’t something that came naturally to me because I’d been taught that pride was the mother of all sins. It always went before a deadly fall.