Page 109 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
"Yeah. Later." I hung up the phone and headed to my room to shower and change.
Everyone had jokes about my current predicament, but if any of those fools had been in my shoes, Don would be sending out SOS signals to allies to help him with the Ledesma Cartel’s declaration of war.
I wonder if that's why that slick-ass nigga gave Ines the okay to send Solana to my house? Did his ass want a war or was he trying to prevent one that was already brewing in Mexico. Whatever the fuck Demise had up his sleeve was costing me my fucking peace, and I ain't like the shit.
A conversation would need to happen soon if he expected me to keep this shit going. Today was only the first strike, and I had a plan to cease any further attraction between Solana and me. But the problem was that my plan was weak as shit. I was relying on my dick when I'd always relied on my mind and intuition. The problem there was that my mind was consistently showing me signs that Solana needed to get took. Still, I was going to try my shitty plan if it meant I could continue sharing space with the Mexican princess without wanting to beat her shit in. At this point, I was no better than my clown-ass cousins.
“Shio? You heard me?”
The gentleness and softness of Uriah’s voice made me shift my gaze from the late-night traffic below. Horns, headlights, and engine exhaust could be heard, smelled, and seen from up here on the thirteenth floor. Pulling from the blunt that was perched between my lips, I took a long drag. Tomorrow was Sunday, so I needed to get my herbal fix now. Leaning back in the chair that I was relaxed in, I blew out the fumes once my lungs could no longer hold onto the marijuana.
“I said, ‘When are you coming in?’ I’ve been out of the shower for over an hour.”
With lowered eyes, I peered at Uriah’s black toenails. I wasn’t a fan of the color choice against her skin tone, but the clear six-inch pumps she was standing in made up for it. Balancingher weight, she pressed a hand to her hip, showing the gap between her thighs. We were on the thirteenth floor, but she was standing outside in a red lace bra and panty set like there wasn’t a building of condos across the street.Uriah looked fucking good. Her hips and ass were swallowing the panties, and unlike the black polish, this did look good on her chocolate skin. Her breasts were spilling out of the bra, and she must’ve used some quality body oil because her flat stomach, legs, and all the other exposed parts of her body were glistening. Uriah was fine as fuck—so fine that my dick should have been standing at full attention, especially since it had been a minute and my reason for chopping it up with her was to bust some much-needed nuts.
Taking another hit from the weed, I repeated the notion of holding it in before releasing it; this time, I blew the smoke in her direction, the cloud temporarily blocking her. Her hair was in some drooping curls that hung down her back, and I could tell she had just gotten it done.
“Shio, no. Please put the weed out. I just got this done. Come to the bedroom.” She was begging. She’d actually been begging me to come inside for over an hour. This had been her fifth attempt to get me inside. While I was enjoying the view, I was also low-key stalling. I wanted to run up in Uriah; I just wasn’t sure if my body would cooperate since I’d had no urge since getting here over an hour ago.
“I’ll get it fixed again,” I stated lowly, and I would. I never left Uriah without hitting her off with some bread.
With one hand on her hip, she ran the finger on her other hand across her glossed lips as she looked at me as if it were dinner time. Uriah had the sexual appetite of a man; or at least when it came to me, she did. I never had to do too much; she always looked good, smelled good, was wet and willing to do whatever the fuck I wanted. I didn’t have to work for it. I’d never put my mouth on her, and she hadn’t even fucking asked me to.It wasn’t like I would if she had worked up the courage to ask. She was just willing to go along with whatever, and I was sure she got what she needed from my dick.
“Come on, Shio. Please…” She poked her lip.
“Don’t beg no nigga for shit, Uriah,” I spoke in an octave higher than my own due to the smoke still infiltrating my system.
She groaned. “But I’m horny.”
And I’m not.
But I didn’t tell her that, though. I was the one who had hit her up after my realization earlier. I caught her out with her friends, and she was so used to me calling at sporadic times that she already had a bag in her trunk and was ready to meet me at whatever location I sent her.
I was starting to feel like the twins with the way my mind was stirring shit up. I low-key needed to get my shit off to prove to myself that ole girl wasn’t as great as my inner being was telling me she was. Now that it was time for me to do my part in telling my mind to shut the fuck up, I was chilling like I was at a Fourth of July barbecue. Uriah was here and ready to get the job done. I should have been standing at attention from the moment I saw her in the hotel lobby, and if not then, at least now, since she’d changed into the red getup. But all I’d been able to think about was Solana’s red toes, and telling my cousins we had to go to war because I needed to stick my dick in the Mexican princess.
“Don’t matter. Lesson number five: ask always but beg never.”
Uriah’s cute face drew back in confusion. “Lesson?”
Reaching my arm down beside me, I put the blunt out on the concrete. “Come on.”
I forgot who I was talking to for a moment. That was the reason I’d come out here to smoke in the first place. Solana Ledesma had entered my thoughts and hadn’t left yet since earlytoday. I had no good reason to be thinking about her ass all day like I had been, but I couldn’t fucking help it, and tonight had done nothing but make me admit to myself what was happening. That’s why I needed to fuck Uriah. She was my last hope in pushing Solana back into the safe zone.
Standing tall and looming over Uriah despite her heels, her breasts pressed against my chest as I looked down at her. Her body trembled against mine, and lust flickered across her face.She’d washed her body clean but kept her makeup on. It didn’t matter to me, though, because she wouldn’t be messing up my sheets tonight.
Moving past her, I removed my Dior T-shirt as I walked into the suite, tossing it on the chair nearby. Next were my Jordan 1s Retro Dior sneakers, and then my Audemars watch, which I placed on the dresser.
“Want me to keep my heels on?” Uriah moaned as she snaked her body inside from the balcony. Each step she took, I could see her ass wobble from the front.
Instead of answering her, I watched as she came to the side of the bed where I was standing and dropped to her knees.
I’d told my people that I wasn’t fucking with Solana. I stayed on my side of the house while she stayed confined to her room. When she first got there, I’d watched her like a hawk on the cameras and laughed seeing how she’d jam the accent chair against the door as she slept, bathed, and dressed in the closet. She spent equal amounts of time in the bathroom and closet as she did in bed. I wasn’t no freaked-out nigga, so I didn’t have cameras in the bathroom and closet to see what she was doing, but knowing how the mob wives, my mom, and aunts acted, I wasn’t concerned about her behaviors of wanting to be alone. She also was traumatized from being dumped here, so if she found some solace in the ten-by-ten closet, I wasn’t going to question it.
The more comfortable she got, the more she showed her feisty personality. Solana had snapped at a nigga plenty of times, especially during her workouts. I would catch the wrath of her frustration, but the work was proving foolproof today in the lounge dress. She’d fucking thrown up every damn workout session the first few times. Her hair was usually a mess and had only been tamed since the engagement party. She was untidy. She slept too fucking much. She was timid as hell. Yet, I couldn’t get her out of my fucking head.
“I’ve been missing the fuck out of this big-ass dick.” Uriah was fumbling with my belt and jeans, and without even lowering my boxer briefs, she began licking up and down the material of my underwear. That alone should have had my fucking toes curling, but I was standing here mentally battling myself like my name was Kanye. The weed had my body feeling lighter and more relaxed, but I was still fucking tense. I was still fucking thinking about the forbidden Afro Mexicana.
Uriah reached her soft hand inside my briefs, pulled my dick out, and placed it on her tongue. Taking it further inside her mouth, she let me feel her tonsils, leaving my dick glistening with her saliva when she pulled back from it. Her brows furrowed, more than likely wondering why the hell my dick was still flaccid, so I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. No sooner than I saw the black of my lids, long, thick black hair, smooth dark skin, wide hips, and a birthmark on the left side of her chin came into view. None of the physical attributes belonged to Uriah.
