Authors: Niobia Bryant

The Pleasure Trap (4 page)

BOOK: The Pleasure Trap

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“What the fuck is going on here?”

Graham sat up straight in the bed, his heart pounding from being startled from his sleep.

“Do you need it spelled out for you, Tylar?” Ms. Nunez asked, sounding smug.

Graham eyed his father standing to the foot of the bed. “Dadâ”

“You mad?” she asked, rising from the bed naked.

“Two dicks in one day?” Tylar said coldly. “You sore?”

Graham struggled to rise from the bed, his legs tangled up in the sheets. “Dadâ”

“With all the women you screw, is your dick sore?” Ms. Nunez asked, standing up in Tylar's face.

“So this is supposed to be payback?” he asked, waving his hand at the bed. “You picked the wrong one if you think I give a shit about a piece of pussyâa slack-ass piece at that.”

WHAP.

Graham's mouth fell open when she slapped his father. He rushed forward, barely holding the sheet around his waist. He stepped between them.

“Dadâ”

“Get your slack ass outta here,” Tylar roared, his eyes blazing.

Barely a second ticked by before she jumped up and reached past Graham to flail her fists at Tylar as she cursed violently in Spanish.

Graham winced and hollered out as a few of the blows landed on his head and shoulders. He wasn't sure what happened next, but he felt their bodies sandwiching his as they tussled. He felt her climb up the front of him.

“Move, Graham,” his father said in a hard voice.

He opened his eyes. Ms. Nunez's naked body was across his shoulder on her stomach with her legs thrashing about.

“Move the fuck out the way, Graham!”

He stepped out of the fray and his eyes widened to see his father had one arm wrapped around her head, covering her mouth, and the other binding her arms to her side like a wrestling move.
Damn . . .

Graham followed them as Tylar carried her out of the room and across the living room, pressing her writhing body against the wall as he freed one hand to open the front door. Graham's heart was pounding like crazy at the scene unfolding around him. “Dad, don't!” he screamed as he watched him throw her out the door.

“You mad I had your son, you punk ass!” she screamed as she scrambled to her feet. “His dick bigger and better too.”

“Stay the hell away from him, you crazy bitch,” Tylar said, turning to brush past Graham to walk back into the apartment.

“I got what I wanted from him . . . plenty of times,” she screamed, turning to storm down the stairs with the soft flesh of her body jiggling.

Graham looked down the steps behind her and spotted LeLe standing at the foot, looking shell-shocked. She eyed Ms. Nunez's naked body and then looked up at him standing there with a sheet barely wrapped around his nakedness. He saw the hurt in her eyes.

Tylar stepped back outside the apartment and tossed the pile of clothing he carried down the stairs behind Ms. Nunez.

“Dog,” she spat.

“Slut,” he countered without hesitation.

Ms. Nunez disappeared around the staircase and soon the sound of her door slamming echoed.

Tylar stormed back inside the apartment. That door slammed as well.

LeLe turned and flew out the door.

Graham knew he couldn't follow her without clothes, and he wasn't sure what he would say to her anyway. “Damn,” he swore, lightly banging his head against the wall before he finally entered the apartment.

He was surprised to see his father picking up his keys and striding toward the door. “Dad, I'm sorry,” he said.

Tylar looked surprised. “For what?”

Graham's face filled with confusion.

“Son, there are women you screw, and women you marry,” he said. “Essie is a woman you screw and I got plenty of those. Now, if that was someone I was lining up to marry, then I'd woulda fucked you upâso don't make that mistake. But with a trick like Essie, you did what a man supposed to do when a ho backs him in a corner.”

Graham was now unsure.
Is he hurt and hiding it?

“Now, my date is waiting for me downstairs in her car,” Tylar said. “I just came back for the tickets I left.”

Tylar stepped around him and opened the door. He stopped and looked back at him. “Did you wrap it up?” he asked.

Graham nodded and clutched his sheet tighter in his fist. “Yes sir.”

“Good.”

And with that he was gone.

Interlude

Present Day

H
e was too high to cum.

“You think I got all night to give you head,” she said in disgust, releasing his dick so forcefully that it vibrated back and forth like a diving board.

He was glad for that. He wasn't sure what this crazy bitch was going to do with it.

“Let's see what else your man-whore money bought you,” she said, the heels of her booties tapping against the hardwood floors.

Having her roaming freely through his homeâhis domicileâfelt just as violating as being trapped. No one came to his home uninvited. No one. None of his clients even knew where he lived. None were invited over. What he offered to them had nothing to do with that.

And it damn sure shouldn't be filled with someone crazy enough to drug him.

Who is she?

He was high and weak, but even in the haze he had long since pushed aside the idea of the woman who took his virginity being his captor. Ms. NunezâEssieâwould have to be in her early fifties. Although her obsession with his father led to her using him to pay Tylar back for all the other women he slept with, she ended up harassing them so badly in the days after his father discovered them in bed that they eventually moved.

Crazy enough? Yes. Strong enough? Hell no.

Or was she?

“Nice kitchen, Pleasure. I could just see me in there making dinner for you,” she said, her voice growing louder as she neared him. “Just slicing and dicing.”

The hairs on the back of his neck tingled beneath the full curtain of his waist-length dreads as she came up to stand behind him.

“Really sharp knives.”

The first feel of the cool steel pressed against the warm pulse of his throat jolted him from his stupor.

“Don't worry, this isn't a part of our unfinished business.”

She removed the blade and turned swiftly to shove it into the back of his leather sofa. She slowly walked the length of it, cutting a jagged line in the material before plunging the knife into the plush cushion with a grunt.

He used every bit of the strength still in his body to drop his head back. “You sure it's not Tylar you want?” he asked.

“Tylar?” she said, the brown eyes peering through the slits in her mask filled with confusion and some other emotion that gave him trepidation.

“No, trust. It's you I want, and it's you I got,” she said, coming over to straddle his hips and grip the sides of his face to jerk his head up until his eyes locked with hers. “Finally.”

Chapter 4

Geneva

2002

“R
unning and boxing does your body
so
good.”

Graham smiled as he pressed a kiss to the shoulder of... of . . .

He couldn't remember her name.

Pressing his face against her nape, he wrapped his arms around her slender frame and pulled her against him as they lay in bed.

“And that made you do my body so good,” she purred, reaching behind herself to stroke his muscular thigh.

He'd met her just that afternoon at the barbecue his father and his girl, Kia, had at their new house. A little conversation and a few dances later they'd headed to an obscure motel. The entire night, including the cost of the moldy room, had been less than a hundred dollars. Well worth the blow job alone. He loved a swallower.

“Maybe we can go running together,” she offered, turning over on her side to face him with a smile.

“Actually I don't live in Brooklyn anymore,” he said, his eyes searching her round face and wide eyes. “I was just in town for the barbecue.”

She pouted and reached up to lightly pinch his chin.

“When my dad moved in with his girlfriend I headed back to my mom's in the 'burbs,” Graham admitted, rolling over onto his back.

“You don't seem happy about it,” she said, propping herself up on the pillow as she lowered the sheet and then traced the contours of his abdomen with her forefinger.

Graham just shrugged, but truthfully, he wasn't happy about it. The best thing that ever happened for him had been moving out of Bedford. Being there every day was a constant reminder of shit he wantedâneededâto forget. Now he was back after four years, and the memories were not as sharp and painful.
Shit seemed so far away
.

“I usually don't do one-night stands, you know,” she said, pressing her cool lips to his muscled chest.

“I didn't think so,” he lied, reaching down onto the floor to dig his cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. “Put your number in my phone.”

Just as he handed it to her it began to vibrate.

“This time of the night that can only be your boo,” she said, handing him the phone back.

It was.

“Go ahead,” she prompted, getting up from the bed to walk naked into the bathroom.

Waiting until she closed the door with a squeak, he answered. “Hey, Geneva,” he said warmly.

“Hey, I thought maybe you was asleep,” she said.

Graham reached up and twisted one of his short, spiky dreads between his fingers. “Nah, I was just about to call you,” he lied, reaching for the remote and turning the television on.

“How was the cookout?”

“Cool,” he said, his eyes darting to the bathroom door. “I wish you could have come with me.”

“Grammy, you know I would've come if I didn't have the meeting for the church conference
plus
you stayed over,” she said gently. “You know the Rev is not having it.”

Geneva was a preacher's kid, and although she was nineteen and officially “grown,” she still lived under his roof and abided by his rules. “I'll be home in the morning,” he said, holding a finger to his mouth when the door opened and his one-nighter emerged.

“Let's have breakfast before church,” she offered. “And then maybe you can come and get
you
some Jesus.”

“Your church?” Graham asked, taking his eyes off his companion as his heart double-pumped.

“Yes,” she stressed. “Where else, Grammy? My father's the minister. Your mother is on the usher board. You were baptized there. Remember?”

Remember? I wish I could forget
.

“Look, G, I'm gonna holla at my dad for a sec and then turn in,” he said, kicking the sheets from his body as he motioned toward his dick for NoName. “I'll call you when I get up.”

“A'ight. Night-night.”

Beep.

“Come suck my dick,” he ordered her, picking it up with his hand and stroking it from the base to the tip.

“That big old dick?” she asked, coming over in all her dark-skinned fineness to take his inches into her hand.

“I'm blessed,” he said, with a big smile.

“Damn right you are,” she moaned before kneeling on the bed and dipping her head down to lick the tip with her tongue.

Graham dug his fingers into her curly weave and held her head locked in position as he began to grind his hips up off the bed, sending his dick a little deeper into her mouth. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the feel of her tongue. Tried to forget everything that church meant to him.

“Shit,” he swore as her teeth raked across his hardness.

“Soh-wee,” she mumbled around his thickness filling her mouth.

He barely heard her. His thoughts were elsewhere, and as badly as he tried to beat them away, run from them, or free them from his head, there they remained.

It was so long ago, almost fourteen years, but when he allowed those thoughts to step forward, it
always
felt like just yesterday.

He cringed at the memory of the intruding hands and mouth of his eleven-year-old church buddy Lionel on his penis. Touching and tasting and violating him before he even knew that what they were doing in that closet in the basement of the church didn't just feel wrong, it
was
wrong.

Graham shook his head and thrust his hips up, sending his dick gliding across her tongue almost to her tonsils. She gagged.

He didn't care. The tears he'd cried that day all those years ago welled up in him and he wanted to forget. He wanted her to make him forget.

“Suck it nasty,” he ordered her, feeling frantic, anxious, and angry. So very angry.

No-good molesting pervert. No-good violating pervert. I hate him. I hate what he did to me.

“Hey,” NoName cried out, pushing his hands off the back of her head as she lifted it.

Graham eyed her, his chest heaving not from the plea-sure she tried to give but the pain that felt fresh, exposed, and raw.

She wiped the slick wetness from her mouth and chin as she eyed him. “You every bit of a foot long,” she said with a little animosity. “Your dick way too big to be ramming down somebody's throat like that. Damn.”

Graham sat up in the bed, his hardness standing up to shadow the ridged lines of his stomach. “My bad,” he said with honesty.

Her expression softened. “You just a freak, that's all,” she said, reaching out to stroke his calf before pulling his foot into her lap.

Graham flopped back down on the bed, focusing his eyes on the television as the video for “Shake Ya Ass” played on
BET: Uncut
. He picked up the remote and raised the volume.

“Shake ya ass . . . Show me what you workin' with.”

NoName jumped up to her feet on the bed and turned around to start twerking her ass like it was her 9-to-5. Graham couldn't deny that seeing the way her butt moved in a thousand different directions was giving new life to his hard-on.

“Them videos hoes ain't got shit on you,” he told her, grasping the thick base of his dick in his hand.

NoName squatted and placed her hands on her thighs as she worked nothing but her ass while she looked over her shoulder at him. “Tell me something I don't know,” she said, twerking her left cheek and then her right in a back-and-forth motion that was mesmerizing.

With his eyes locked on her, he reached out to grab one of the condoms strewn across the top of the battered nightstand. “Come sit on this and do that,” he said thickly, wagging his condom-covered dick at her.

He pursed his lips as she twerked her way back down onto her knees and backed up until her pussy was in position right above the thick tip. He guided his inches inside her, enjoying the look of her pussy surrounding his hardness as she leaned forward, smoothing her hands down his legs to grasp his ankles as she twerked on.

“Dammit, girl,” he said, slapping her round ass cheek before gripping her hips.

He just lay back and let her work, enjoying the feel of her pussy walls clutching him. He bit his tongue lightly as he felt his nut coming on quick. Probably too quick but he didn't have a care.
Fuck it
.

NoName sat up straight and started gliding back and forth on it like she knew he was going to come and wanted to milk it. He grunted and felt his body jerk as she did just that.
Shit
.

Just before he closed his eyes he was able to make out the name in the elaborate tattoo on her lower back.

Nora. That's her name.

Graham hitched his duffel bag up higher on his shoulder as he walked out of the Metro-North train station. He smiled when Geneva spotted him and instantly headed in his direction. She was already dressed for church in a lavender shift dress that looked good against her caramel-brown complexion and auburn shoulder-length curls.

My shorty.

He'd met her when his mother finally nagged him into going to church a few weeks ago. Cara brought him there for the Word but he left with Geneva's phone number. He had no complaints.
Well, just one . . .

“Hey you,” she said, her soft voice soothing him as she hugged him close and pressed a brief kiss to his chin.

He embraced her quickly and stepped back before his dick woke up. Even after a night of sex with... Nora and being far from new to sex in the first place, the fact that Geneva was a virgin made him want her even more. Even the most innocent of touches from her made his dick hard enough to cut a diamond like it was dust.

“Hungry?” she asked as they walked to her white convertible BMW.

“You know it,” he said, opening the passenger door. Geneva cleared her throat and remained standing by the driver-side door.

Shaking his head and wiping away the smile that spread across his chiseled, handsome face, Graham tossed his duffel onto the rear seat before coming around the car to open her door. “You're welcome,” he said before she could even thank him.

Geneva winked at him before she grabbed the lapel of his lightweight khaki jacket and pulled him down from his six-foot-nine-inch height to lick his lips.

Shaking his head, he used the muscles of his arms to pick her up so that her body was against his and he was able to see the light spray of freckles across her nose. “You're too tall,” she said, not sounding like she meant it as she moved her hands up to grip the sides of his face.

Graham captured her mouth with his and enjoyed the taste of her tongue and her lips. Her little moan of pleasure in the back of her throat pushed him to deepen the kiss until his tongue traced the length of hers before circling it slowly and then sucking deeply on the tip.

Geneva broke the kiss gently but kept her forehead against his and breathed hotly against his open mouth. “You make me want to do things, Graham Walker. Nasty, dirty, freaky things that”âshe swallowed hardâ“would send me
straight
to hell.”

“For a taste of your goodies I would gladly go to hell,” he told her, burying his face against her neck and deeply inhaling her sweet citrus perfume.

“Graham!” she exclaimed with wide eyes. “That's blasphemous.”

He chuckled. “God knows what's on my heart... and on my brain, so no need to lie. He sees all and knows all.”

“Preach, Brother Graham,” she teased, lifting one hand up to wave it as if she was in church. “I think you like church more than you put on.”

Graham's eyes searched hers and for one secondâmaybe even lessâhe considered telling her his truth. His secret. His shame.

But what to say:
It's not every church I hate, just your father's church, where I should have been safe and sheltered from one of the older boys molestâ

He shook his head, hating even to think the word.

Giving her one last kiss, he set her back down on her feet and moved away from her to climb into the car. Not since his high school days had his feelings about what happened affected him so much. Back then, it was the anger he clung to, and the anger that led to him fighting anybody who even tried to treat him as if he was weak.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, reaching over to grasp his hand.

“I'm good,” Graham said, shifting in his seat and nodding.

“Good enough to go to church with me?” she asked.

“I got something to do for my mom,” he lied with ease. “I already promised her.”

“Okay.”

Graham peered out the window as she drove the streets of Bedford headed to their favorite diner on Bedford Road. He spotted a woman with a curvy shape and a form-fitting dress about to climb into a convertible Jag. To him the lines of her body were sleeker than the luxury vehicle.

Just like Nora.

Although it was early October, she'd done the kinds of tricks and treats on him that had nothing to do with Halloween. The type of things most women saved for men who made some sort of commitment. As good a time as he had, she had effectively freaked herself into the category of women to screw and never the type to marry.

Geneva slid her hand onto his thigh and squeezed it gently. He tried to smile away the guilt he felt. She offered him conversation, companionship, and comfort. All of his other tricks delivered the sex.

And Geneva was none the wiser.

As she sang along softly with some song on the radio, he looked over at her profile. He knew she deserved more. Better. The best of him.

BOOK: The Pleasure Trap

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