Sins of a Siren (23 page)

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Authors: Curtis L. Alcutt

BOOK: Sins of a Siren
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Sitting on the bed, she ordered breakfast from room service. She sat and picked at a hangnail on her right thumb, thinking about doing harm to Trenda, until blood ran down to her wrist. A knock at the door broke her psychotic moment. She rose from the bed, caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and suddenly
laughed aloud as she wiped the blood onto her robe. “Damn, Piper, tuck that big tit back in your robe before the bellboy gets a free peek.”

By ten in the morning, Piper had eaten, showered and dressed. She tore the sheet of paper that contained the information she had gotten from Hank off the notepad and tucked it into the pocket of her navy blue Addidas sweatsuit. She used both hands to pull her foot up high enough into her lap to tie the laces of her white Addidas tennis shoes. She huffed and puffed after the effort it took to tie her shoes.

Trenda has never got out the bed before noon; I have plenty of time to catch her still in her room.
She grabbed her room cardkey, rental car key and wallet and tucked them into her pockets before exiting her room. She had to pick up a few things before paying her friend a visit. After stopping at the reception desk, she used the hotel computer to download and print the pictures Hank had sent her.

In the BART station parking lot, across the street from the Hyatt, Darius yawned and stretched while sitting in the driver's seat of his rental car. “I sure hope I don't have to stake out Piper's ass all day.” He picked up the BlackBerry off the passenger seat and sighed at the sight of the blinking, unmoving small red triangle.
It's bad enough I've had to sit here and chase off the begging panhandlers since six this morning. I don't need to be here for the next shift of bums to come through.

He watched as a mild breeze caused the myriad of flags from different countries, mounted around the roof perimeter of the Hyatt, flicker and dance.
My hunch about Piper had better be right, or else I'm wasting a lot of valuable time.
He reached down to the
floor in front of the passenger seat and picked up the black gym bag.
Something tells me she's gonna silence Trenda for me.
He unzipped it and picked up the silencer-equipped, snub-nosed .38 pistol he had “borrowed” from a crime scene several months ago. He flipped open the cylinder, inspected the hollow-point rounds and put the weapon down.
But just in case…
It belonged to an unsolved murder case in West Baltimore.

Next to the gun, box of ammo, three sets of handcuffs, bullet-proof vest, lock-picking tools, roll of duct tape and a black ski mask, he found his sunglasses. He put on the shades, zipped up the bag and put it back on the floor. He watched a young black couple walk out of the hotel, hugged up. He looked at the grinning cola-colored brother and thought,
I sure hope that pussy was worth it. That looks like one hell of an expensive hotel to use for fucking a chick as average looking as your girl is.

He reflected on how he made sure to use the cheapest motels possible for his unsavory trysts. The only woman he'd ever taken to an expensive hotel was his wife—on his honeymoon in Hawaii. Even then, he'd bitched about the cost. Of all the women he'd fucked with and fucked over, Trenda was the only one that gave him a serious challenge. He loved her fiery ways. The more she defied him and his authority as the law, the more he desired her. No woman had ever satisfied his out-of-control sex drive the way Ms. Fuqua did. He had joined the ranks of those whom had fallen under the spell of her unforgettable “Magic Clit.”

He grinned at the memory of how he had actually called her name while making love to his wife six months ago. Of course, when she pushed him off of her and cussed him out, he did the only thing he could do: deny, deny, deny! He did a piss poor job trying to claim the name Beverly sounded like Trenda under the circumstances. He told her, her pussy was so good he couldn't speak clearly.

Although she didn't buy his lie, she did calm down a bit after he did a Kobe Bryant and gave her a “shut up” trinket—a six-grand, Mother-of-Pearl and diamond Versace watch, which, he removed from a bag of loot he and Tyrone had recovered from a snatch-and-grab jewelry store robbery. He had no problem stealing the watch in order to keep his wife from divorcing him.

The idea of ruining his flawless public image with the ugliness of a divorce was more than his gigantic ego could bear. That, along with his allergy to doing prison time, helped pave the road on which he currently traveled. A road that currently had him three thousand miles from home, prepared to commit one of the most heinous acts imaginable.

While Piper debriefed Hank Martin and Darius sat behind the wheel of his car having a bag of corn nuts for breakfast and fending off beggars, Trenda was awakened by a few strands of Lollie's hair tickling her ear, as they lay back-to-back. She gently brushed the hairs off the side of her face and thought about the previous night's triple play. She looked over Lollie's shoulder and saw her and Walter were asleep in a lover's embrace.

Last night was far from the first time Trenda had given away a lover to a deserving friend. As far as she could remember, she always had a talent for hooking people up. Her kidneys told her it was time to tinkle. She eased out of the bed, picked her robe off the floor and went to the bathroom. She had no memory of how the nearly empty bottle of Patron ended up on the hallway floor or of how her dress wound up, balled up, under the bed.

She closed her eyes and slowly rotated her neck as she did her business on the toilet. A tingle shot threw her as she wiped her kitty and flushed.
I'm still horny. I need a thick, stiff one inside me.
That was one of the rare times she craved penetration. She almost regretted not letting Walter fuck her last night. Usually a finger, tongue or dildo would suffice, but in that instance, she needed to feel a hot, living hard dick stretching her pussy walls. After a nice hot shower, she stood at the sink, picked up her toothbrush, applied toothpaste and began brushing her teeth.
I guess I could just let Walter fuck me, but now that I have officially given him to Lollie, that's a no-no.

Although Trenda had made many men leave their women for her, she had never
knowingly
slept with any of her friends' men. After brushing her teeth, she headed back to the bedroom. On the way, she chuckled at the array of clothing strewn about the hotel room: Walter's jacket across the sofa, Lollie's pink dress on the floor in front of the TV, her black thong dangling from the tall, artificial plant next to the sofa and three pairs of shoes scattered around like chips on a bingo card. She eased the door open a bit, peeked into the bedroom and saw Lollie and Walter still tangled up. He lay on his side, facing her, with his leg sandwiched between her smooth thighs. She recalled getting out of the bed, sitting on the edge of the dresser, and fingering her pussy while watching Lollie and Walter fuck.

She pushed the door open a little further. It creaked, causing one of Walter's eyes to open. His lips formed a smile. “Good morning, you.”

Trenda tightened the belt of her robe and returned his smile. “Good morning to you, birthday boy.”

Lollie stirred, opened her eyes and immediately unwrapped her legs from Walter's and pushed back from him. “Oh…hey, Mya.”

Trenda chuckled and shook her head. “It's all good. You ain't gotta let him go on my account.” She turned her attention to Walter. Puzzlement replaced his normally cool demeanor. “You
ain't gotta trip, either. I saw how y'all was feelin' each other the first time you met. I knew right then y'all needed to be together.”

Walter and Lollie looked at each other and exchanged small smiles. Even though the smile exchange confirmed what Trenda proclaimed, they both ignored what she had said and instead traveled down the road of denial. Lollie swung her legs over the edge of the bed and used the bedspread to cover her body as though she hadn't fucked them both all night. After not being able to locate a robe, she gave up the charade, stood up and grinned. “That's your hangover talking.”

Trenda swatted Lollie's bare bottom as she walked toward the bathroom. “That's some bullshit and you know it.”

Walter enjoyed the spectacle as he absently rubbed his well-satisfied penis. “Mya,” he patted the bed next to him, “come here and quit harassing folks. You need to learn how to live in the moment every now and then and enjoy life.”

Trenda turned away from his smiling face, walked over to the sliding patio doors, spread the earth-toned drapes and peered outside. Her face welcomed the warm sunlight. She opened the glass doors, stepped outside, looked down at the swimming pool and watched a maintenance man check the PH level in the pool.
Lollie and Walter make a cute couple
.

For the first time since she was a teen, she found herself wishing
she
could wake up in the arms of a man she cared about. She watched an elderly couple walk past the pool area, hand-in-hand, seemingly very happy to be together.
I wonder what it feels like to be that close to someone? I bet they still fuck, too…as a matter of fact, I bet they make love…
Trenda found herself very uncomfortable with this new line of thinking. The closest she had come to falling in love was back in her junior year of high school. The BMOC at the time, the state wrestling champion, a huge, grizzly bearshaped
brother named “Big Paul,” nearly stole her heart. His size, confidence and gentleness appealed to her. Even though all the other jocks, and most of them with a much better physique than Paul's, practically fought for her affection. Something about his gut and kindness
almost
stole her heart—that was until she hooked up with the uncle of her best friend.

The lure of that married man's willingness and ability to spoil Trenda with material shit made her soon forget Big Paul's huge heart and small wallet.
It's cool that Walter likes to spend money on me, but he ain't my type. It's a blessing that he and Lollie hit it off; will make it easier for me to break loose from him.
She turned around at the sound of Lollie's laugh. She walked back into the room and watched as Walter grabbed her and pulled her down on top of him. “Uh-oh! Time for another round I see.”

Lollie turned toward Trenda, smiled and tossed her hair out of her face. “Will you please tell your friend to let me go?”

Trenda grinned and stood with her arms crossed. “Nope. My dog ain't in that fight. You're on ya own.”

Walter placed his hand behind Lollie's head and smiled at her. “See, even your buddy agrees with me. You might as well give it up and just relax.”

Trenda walked over to the closet and picked out some clothes. “I need to go take care of some business; you guys just lock up when you leave.”

Walter placed his hand on Lollie's head and stroked her hair. He then looked at Trenda. “So, where do we go from here?”

Trenda stood at the edge of the bed, next to Lollie. “It depends…” She read the questioning look on Lollie's face. “It depends on how you two want to handle this. I have no problem keeping the status quo—with a few adjustments.”

Lollie brushed her hair out of her face and sat up on her elbows.
“You don't feel funny about what we did last night? I mean, I thought you and Walter were…”

Walter threw his arm across Lollie's abdomen. “What kind of ‘adjustments' are you talking about?”

“Let's keep it real. I can tell by the way you and Lollie got down that y'all are feelin' each other something fierce. I think you two might have more in common than just fuckin' each other to death.” She looked at Lollie and grinned. “And Lollie, girl, you ain't gotta trip. Even though Walter and me did kick it once, it ain't gonna happen again. I don't mess with my friends' men.” She tickled the smiling Lollie's chin. “And as much as you have helped me out—both of you—it's the least I can do to try and pay you guys back.”

Walter shook his head. “You don't owe me anything, Mya. I—”

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