Hood Misfits 3 Page 17

  His big hands caressed my waist as I gazed up at him when he pulled back. That bull nose ring piercing he had was even sexier up close. His tongue moved across his lips and moistened them enough to make me want to taste them again. I finally realized that I could touch him. I brought my hands to his waist then his abs, traced the Adonis line and his piercings. Then my fingers traveled up to his chest. His hands caressed my breasts, massaged them, and gripped them with enough force to make it hurt but feel damn good in the process. A moan escaped my lips when the pads of his thumbs brushed across my nipples.

  I was in a zone, head thrown back as his groans traveled through me and settled in the pit of my stomach. I could feel my nipples tighten while my breasts swelled. My legs started to tremble as my Kegel-exercised muscles worked on their own. His dick hadn’t touched me yet and I found myself so anxious that I reached down in between us to stroke him. The weight of his dick was heavy in my hand. The fact that the more I stroked, the more he grew turned me on more. His lips found my nipples and the heat from his mouth made my legs tremble.

  One of his hands came down to cover mine as he helped me to stroke his dick the way he wanted me to. Then he moved to let his fingers graze my soaked pussy. There was no hair there so I could feel everything times ten. It had been almost a year since I had been touched by a man and it had been never that I’d been touched by one the way Enzo was doing. As soon as two of his fingers slipped inside of me he caught the gasp that escaped my lips in his mouth. My hips squirmed on the granite counter. I couldn’t help myself. The penetration with the way he was kissing me had me gone. His fingers were thick and he was tapping against a spot that had me seeing stars.

  “Oh, shit,” was all I could get out when Enzo let my mouth go.

  He didn’t talk, just looked me in the eyes as he rubbed the head of his dick up and down my slick slit. The friction from the ring in his dick against my clit was amazing. But it wasn’t until he slowly guided himself inside of my walls that I finally knew what had made Gina throw her head back in oblivion when I’d had the threesome with her and Jake.

  Head back, mouth in the shape of an O, breath caught in the swell of my chest. Enzo’s slow, long strokes killed me; short steady strokes brought me back to life. My nails dug into his biceps while his hands gripped my thighs. He pushed my thighs farther apart, held them back, dipping his hips to hit that spot over and over again. If I never got another chance to have sex like the way he was giving it to me in the bathroom of the condo he’d bought me, I’d be a very pissed-off woman.

  The loud buzzing of my phone jerked me awake. It took me a minute to realize I was slobbering out the mouth and even longer to realize that Enzo was lying beside me. Our thighs were tangled. The light scent of our sex wafted through the air. The pineapple and alcohol-like remnants of his semen still coated my tongue and the back of my throat. Flashbacks of his face between my thighs, us being as nasty as we could in sixty-nine ways, added to my delirium. I sat up and looked at him to see his eyes were wide as he gazed at me.

  “Answer your phone,” he demanded.

  I nodded, coughed, and then picked up. “Hello?”

  “So Micah needs all of the dancers down at the Dome by ten this morning,” Tino’s voice came through.

  I looked at the digital clock. Red block numbers blared at me: 3:33 a.m.

  “Okay and?” I was a lot of annoyed and the satisfying ache between my thighs begged to be answered again.

  “And, I did what you asked. That broad Tasha has officially contracted the stomach virus or at least, a really bad liquid laxative was put into her Sprite; so she won’t be working the field or her pussy.”

  “You tell Micah what we talked about?”

  “Of course, boo. I made sure to dress it all up nicely. All you have to do is work your magic.”

  Enzo stirred behind me; my pussy clenched involuntarily. I turned behind me to see his frame silhouetted in the moonlight coming through the blinds. The muscles in his back coiled and rolled as he pulled on his shorts. Everything about him looked good, even the muscles in his ass. But it was something in his eyes when he turned to look at me that, for a brief moment, made images of our worst nightmare flash before my eyes. I had to blink to shake the image away.

  “Thanks, Tino.”

  “Ah, naw, bitch. Thank me by giving me my pills and my money,” he sang like the queen he was.

  “I got you covered, Tino. You know that.”

  “I don’t know no’ting until you pay me. See you at ten,” he said then ended the call on his end.

  Enzo stood off to the right of me with his shirt thrown over his left shoulder. “What he say?” his deep voice asked me.

  “He did what I asked,” I answered. Although just hours before we’d heated up the bathroom and bedroom, there was a sudden chill in the room that had me looking at Enzo sideways. I didn’t know what he was planning to do. “What you gonna do, Shawn?”

  I called him by his birth name hoping that intimacy would do something, trigger something in him that would make him open up to me. He snapped his head around to look at me after sliding his feet into his shoes. “Don’t ever call me Shawn again, Angel. And don’t ask me anything about nothing.”

  “I was only asking because I’m worried.”

  “Don’t ask and don’t be worried. I don’t need you in my business and I don’t need you to worry,” he said coolly as he walked out the room.

  Forgetting that I was ass naked, I rushed out after him. I wasn’t understanding how he could be so cold now when he’d been so into me hours before. I mean that shit literally and figuratively.

  “You said when we was planning this shit that we wouldn’t keep secrets,” I yelled at his back. I grabbed his arm to make him stop walking.

  He just turned and cut his eyes down at me. “Go take a shower, put on some clothes, and get some sleep. You need to be the first motherfucker at the Dome in the morning. Do your part, Angel, and I’ll do mine. The less you know, the better, just in case shit goes left.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “If you don’t know shit, you can’t say shit.”

  That was all he said before he walked out the door.

  Chapter 15

  Enzo

  “Pick up the phone.”

  “Pick up the fucking phone damn!”

  Sweat pressed against my brow. I pushed up from my bed and walked into the living room, where nothing sat before me but a couch, a cordless phone on a table, and the back of a man with similar tats on his back like mine, two large diamonds on his ears, and the same haircut as mine. I blinked a couple of times, apprehension filling my chest, and I walked forward. The ringing continued. The closer I got, it seemed that the couch got farther. What fucked me more was that as I looked ahead, I saw a flat-screen TV with images flashing on it. I saw my games, then I saw Drew’s basketball games, then I saw my aunt spitting rhymes that spoke about the realness in the streets. I glanced back and then I saw blood washing over his shoulders as the phone rang and rang.

  “Answer the phone, man; you hear that shit, answer it!” I yelled. The shit was pissing me off, making me angrier by the second.

  When I finally made it to the couch, the sensation of wetness with that of something soggy and fleshy against my bare feet and squishing between my toes made me look down. All around me was blood, blood mixed with flesh. Hands, arms, torsos, heads, all appeared from the sea of blood. I looked up in shock and saw the body was me on the couch. In my hands was Micah’s dead body. His spine ripped from his back, lying on my hard thighs. In my hand was his bludgeoned face. Nigga’s face was so bad it seemed that it was sunken into a muddle of bloody pumpkin guts. I stared long and hard memorizing everything. I was covered in blood. My E.N.G.A. tattoo on the side of my ribs seemed to glow, and the phone continued to ring.

  I finally grabbed the phone to answer it. I opened my mouth to say hello and the voice of my aunt echoed, “The streets aren’t for you but it’s who you are.�
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  I frowned and it had me looking at the image of myself in the dream again. It was then that I saw the words DOA tatted on the side of my neck.

  My aunt’s voice sounded again. “Make it yours. Make it what you want it to be. I love you, son.”

  Her words pissed me off. I reached out to claw at my mirror’s neck only to see myself laugh as the letters disappeared and flowed into E.N.G.A. My baby brother Drew appeared at my side on the couch, sitting down next to me. On his neck were the same letters, DOA, but they then turned into the shape of an Angel with the letters E.N.G.A. in the middle.

  “Nigga, this world is yours. Now answer the phone,” was all my mirror said before he took the cord of the telephone, wrapped it around Micah’s neck, tugging until whatever life that was still in that fucker jerked out. I watched him grin deviously; his eyes turned soot black then he pulled off Micah’s lifeless head then tossed it to Drew, who sent it flying with a swish behind him. The sea of blood undulated on the floor, growing until it washed over me. The pieces of bodies I saw were my enemies and those pieces of bodies swallowed me whole until I woke up in a sweat at the sound of my alarm going off.

  “Shit!”

  The sheets of my bed wrapped around my waist in disarray. I kicked off what I could, moved to the side of my bed and slammed my alarm off, noticing it was still early in the morning. My shoulders slumped as I tried to shake off my dream, but also tried to make sense of it. I didn’t want shit to do with DOA and E.N.G.A. ain’t did nothing but help a nigga out. It had to be something though, but I wasn’t going to trip on that shit. Fuck, for all I knew, it could be the aftereffects of boning Angel. Shit. I got my dick wet, was good, too, but my mind was conflicted on that shit because she fucked my brother, even though a part of me was liking her. I told her that anyway, damn.

  I let out a loud sigh. I wasn’t about to let Angel be a problem for me. We had shit to do, and to handle. Sometimes people fucked and that was that. After kicking it with Angel yesterday, I had a lot on my plate to get our plan in motion. She had done what I asked, and now it was my next move, but now it seemed as if I had some shit on the brain, shit that didn’t make any sense to me whatsoever. I pushed off the bed, running both hands over my face then fixing my low-hanging pants. After heading in the bathroom to piss, then wash my hands, my cell started ringing, putting me back in the dream just that fast.

  I picked it up with constrained apprehension and barked out, “Who the fuck is this?”

  “Nigga, you late! Wake the hell up, new blood, and let’s get to training; or did all the pussy you pulling finally catch up with you?”

  I had to chuckle at Dragon’s teasing. He’d been the one player on the team I fucked with on a personal level. My fingers pinched the bridge between my nose and I sighed low. “Fuck you calling me for to tell me that, homie? I know it is. I’m on my way; what you really want?”

  Shuffling on the other end of my cell started grating my nerves. “Yeah, man, our mutual friend is pissing me the fuck off. Shit.”

  A low laugh came from me, and I glanced at my cell before responding, “I got you. We’ll talk.” I hung up without letting that fool continue and I grabbed my shit then saddled up to head to practice.

  Working with a team of niggas who came from all walks of life was interesting to me, because it gave me the means to blend in without anyone knowing my past. The bad thing though was there were some niggas from the same streets of the A as me, and then there were others who weren’t from here, but were thugs, too, who sought out the hood for whatever reasons.

  Some of the faces I was very familiar with, and they knew to stay quiet because like me, they didn’t want their reputation fucked up. Besides, if they tried to ruin mine, there was no way I could be currently linked to criminal activity and I liked it that way. It also meant that some of those niggas were already hitting me up with wanting to know if I had ties to get them product. I used to ignore them and do me, but now with Micah pressing me, the game was about to change.

  I made it without problem to the training base. The time on my watch said I was actually ten minutes early, which was good for me. I was still tripping off my crazy-ass dream and just wanted to put all that shit in the field. As I headed to the locker, I was sideswiped. I used the momentum of the touch to twist, and then slam my hand and bag up into the neck of the nigga who grabbed me. I pushed him back into the wall, getting a good look at who it was with a sneer.

  Pissed all the way off, I brushed him off and stepped back. “The hell do you want?”

  “My bad. Look, I . . . ah, shit, you got my shirt, homie? Give that shit back and then we’re good,” he muttered to me.

  My eyes roamed over the medium-build fullback. His hands slightly shook and his eyes darted back and forth. He was a junky and sooner or later it would start to be seen by everyone else. He sported black Nike football shorts and a red Nike compression shirt. I wore Nike as well but my ensemble was all black.

  He scratched at his jaw. I could tell he was nervous and the sloppiness in the way he approached me bothered me. I had given this nigga a name of one of my associates before, but he was spazzed out so deep on whatever the fuck he used that he rubbed that cat the wrong way. It seemed that this donkey was going to need a dealer who would keep him in line. I had just the right person in mind, but it all was on condition of if he had some intel for me that was reliable. I was about to see.

  “Ah huh. Check your locker, you fucking tripping. I’m out.” My eyes narrowed and then I walked away but not before slipping him the card of the new guy, Dragon. In return, he gave me a slip of paper with an address. What we just discussed was code for where to look for his product. His locker was his designated drop spot, and his shirt was his bags of Indigo, weed, and some Molly.

  I casually headed into the locker, dropping my bag in front of my locker then reading the note. Everything on it would have to be verified later, but from a quick glance, it was solid. Micah was out of the hospital and actually somewhere in the stadium overseeing his money. With what was given to me, it had me wondering how he had time to oversee this large-ass team, its players, the girls, and countless staffers, and still have time to roll in the streets and be a Fed. I knew he had many hands then and wondered who was watching Micah’s private interests and who wasn’t.

  Putting my gloves on, I made way to the training field. I jogged to the middle, rolled my shoulders inhaling the fresh air, then locked eyes on the man who was making my life hell. He stood in the bleachers, looking down on us as if we were nothing but his puppets. He tilted his head my way with a smirk and a wink and I glanced around then returned the nod.

  I grinned, screwed my face up, curled my upper lip, and then bit my lower lip, flashing my teeth. I then pointed my fingers out like a gun and shot it off his way, letting him know that I wasn’t done gunning for him. The images in my dream came back to me and it had me unsettled only because, I felt a quiet need, almost as if my dick was getting hard, at the idea of playing with that nigga’s guts and hanging him out to dry. Dropping my hand and getting in step once the coaches came out; I shook off my vision, and made a note to make sure to visit my aunt and Drew later today or tomorrow.

  Breathing in slowly and exhaling slowly, I crouched low to prep to run for my drills. My eyes narrowed, the muscles in my thighs and calves tightened, and I dug my feet in the ground waiting for the whistle. Each rhythmic beating of my heart had me thinking about my plan. Had me thinking about my aunt, Drew, the dream I had, then Angel. I bit down hard on my mouth guard then the sound of a whistle had me shooting forward.

  Tweeeeet!

  “Damn! Enzo, shit! You fucked it up hard out there on the field, homie,” was shouted near my ear by one of my teammates.

  I grinned as lights flashed; fans crawled around us asking for autographs. People chanted our team name and the energy around me had me buzzed up as I stepped into Club Rize. Everything in the huge two-level decked-out club was washed in black and blue lights. We strol
led through the place and I felt like we were in the movie Belly. Sealed contact lens cases were handed up for those of us who wanted to do the glow in the dark vibe.

  In the club, I saw several Bounce Girls. I saw several of the assistant coaches knee deep in pussy and titties, as dancers slid down poles. I tilted my chin up to nod at my teammate and blocker, Dragon. My boy Dragon was a huge motherfucker, I mean, nigga literally was built, and shaped like one of the predators from the movie Predator. It didn’t help that he also sported locs that fell directly on his beefy shoulders.

  Nigga’s fist was so huge that he could punch a hole through concrete leaving a massive crater. It was his size and speed that got him on the team. It was his personality and size that kept pussy coming his way as well. I heard some of the Bounce Girls say it was his smile, deep voice, and dark, almost black, eyes that was pure panty wetters, even though his looks were average.

  He was no pretty boy, but he had qualities, qualities that worked in my favor since he was the nigga I had sent Ross to earlier today. Dragon, from what he told me, got his name because no matter what drink he had, he always was drinking that shit flamed up. He also was known for lighting niggas on fire back on the streets before he came into the game. He chucked his hand up in the air, directing me to come his way as I noticed him passing our other teammate, Ross, a small bag.

  “Sup, man, what it do?” I said clasping his forearm and knocking shoulders with him. “I thought that nigga had his full. Shit, man, nigga is a hardcore junkie ain’t he?”

  Dragon gave a heavy laugh, and grabbed a glass full of whatever the fuck he typically drank that required flames to be on it. I watched him down that shit in one gulp. He slammed the empty glass down all before I could order my drink. The bartender nodded my way and I watched her bring me an untouched bottle of Conjure with glasses.