A Gangsta's Chick 3

Leo Sullivan

Sujets

• Urban Books

Informations

• Publié par: Sullivan Group Publishing, LLC
• Date de parution: 16 août 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781946789587
• Langue: English

Extrait

Contents



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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

All Rise!

Epilogue


SHE’S GOT GAME

Author’s Notes

Read More in Innocent By Leo Sullivan

About the Author

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Copyright 2013 by Leo Sullivan
Published by: Sullivan Productions, LLC
Edited by: Mia Rucker
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in review.
First Edition January 2013
Printed in the USA
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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My fear is not of death itself, but a death without meaning.
-Huey P. Newton
1
Gina



How It All Began
As Gina sat outside the precinct in her new Mercedes Benz, she waited for Lieutenant Brown to emerge. He agreed to meet her after she had given him a proposition he couldn’t refuse. Seduction for murder, he was the only weak link. Their cat and mouse game had turned too lethal. He knew too much as it was. It was just a matter of time before he solved the case of the murdered pawn shop owner and more. He was too close for comfort and had to be dealt with; he had to die. His weakness would be her strength. She knew he was infatuated with her. He enjoyed the cops and robbers game. The thrill of the chase heightened his sense of masculinity. That night it would cost him his life. Just as Jack would have liked it.
Eye for eye, tooth for tooth; Brown was a cop in the same damn fraternal guild of cops that murdered her Jack. Gina thought as she gazed up at the celestial stars. There was a luminous moon that shined bright and she found herself gazing up, unblinking, thinking about Jack. Did heaven have a ghetto for a gangsta ass nigga like him? If it did, would they have accepted a revolutionary thug like Jack Lemon in all his guns and glory? Her eyes began to water as a single tear cascaded down her cheek. Absentmindedly, she wiped it with the back of her hand, her heart still hurt as she thought about Jack, his last words, the tremor in his voice, the prophecy in his words like he knew he was going to die that dreary morning when he tricked her into leaving the house, “I love ya, ma.” She hung her head, wiped at another solitary tear as it slid down her cheek.



A New York City bus passed rumbling by fumigating her car, a siren blared in the distance. A neon light flashed in her peripheral as a light misty rain began to fall pelting the car with a caustic rhythm. Instantly fog enveloped the car windows. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard.
It was 11:57 PM. In three minutes Brown was schedule to get off work.
Was he coming?
Would he take her bait?
With the palm of her hand she wiped at the fog on her windshield and there he appeared, approaching fast, bigger than life walking towards her car, a murky mirage with a lilting stride. Her heart skipped a beat; she instantly felt an adrenaline rush like high octane fuel had been dumped in her veins. She grabbed the gun out her purse and placed it in her coat pocket. Her heart beat so fast she struggled to breathe, struggled to bridle her courage. This was it. It was show time, now or never. Time to place all their cards on the table and see who had the winning hand; she hoped he was foolish enough to go for the gambit, her sex. The deck was stacked against him. She put on her poker face, expelled a deep sigh, and stepped outside the car into the rain to meet him. Her six inch stiletto red heels were velvety suede, the kind that would make a stripper blush with admiration. Underneath the long trench coat she was practically nude, her bare essence exposed. She wore a sheer red, seductive, lacy Victory Secret panty and bra set with her pierced nipples showing through the slits in the bra. Audaciously bold, she stood in the chilly night leaving the coat open, displaying more than peek-a-boo cleavage, including the infamous tattoo as planned for Lieutenant Brown to see.
A light rain danced off her ample breast as she stood statuesque in the rain to greet him. It all happened as if it had been rehearsed, planned, and plotted in the dark crevice of her mind, a duet with death. His death would be his ultimate demise.
A car passed and honked its horn; someone shouted lascivious obscenities at Gina’s near nudity as Lieutenant Brown approached. His short cropped curly hair was mossed with rain as droplet’s cascaded down his angular chin. He blinked at Gina with a smile; his cop’s mind churning, lust spewing in his thoughts. His expression would have been comical, but this has always been part of their ritual, their flirt with danger. His eyebrows knotted up as he looked at her luscious body. The curvature of her hips, the symmetry of her body was bangin’ as she stood akimbo, seminude, in the rain, as if daring him, taunting him. She was thick, bowlegged, and pigeon toed; she even had pretty manicured toes painted pink. The trench coat was open, slightly swaying, with cleavage enticing him. Water dripped off her succulent breast like honey dew. His eyes, as if in a trance, stalled on the tattoo, studying it then the rest of her sumptuous body. Her emerald eyes enchanted him as they always did. He glanced down at the tattoo on her breast again, then at the midriff of her thighs; there was a gap between her legs he could see outline of her vagina lips bulging from the Victory Secret panties just like she knew he could. Then she closed the trench coat; her impromptu peek-a -boo show was over.
“You came, you’re serious, huh?” He said. His lips hinted at a smile.
Gingerly she took a step closer. Her perfume marinated him with her allure. “I just wanted to get this over. I’m tired of playing with you; either you’re going to arrest me or fuck me.”
The detective’s brown eyes flashed something that was hard for her to discern.
“How about I arrest you?” He shot back catching her off guard as he pulled his jacket back displaying his badge and the nine millimeter on his side.
He is about to arrest me. Gina mused. The very tattoo on her chest was probable cause and they both know it. There was no turning back she continued to flirt only this time her nerves were on edge.
“Okay Mr. Po-Po, here I am to do as you please.” She intoned in breathy timbre.
The whole while she could feel her pulse racing, and her heart palpitating. A glutton for danger, a risk taker, somehow she was not prepared for this. Over the phone he sounded sincere. They had agreed they would meet off the record. A fervid fuck, a futile kiss, a fitful moment, she would give him everything he wanted sexually.
Now this.
They stared.
A truck sped by. Water splashed on her shoes as she stepped away and wiped at a tuft of wet hair on her forehead. She was stalling for time, attempting to gather her wits. She stole a glance around to see who was watching as she eased her hand onto the .45 in her trench coat. There was no doubt whatsoever that she would shoot him; a head shot, of course, because she knew he was wearing a bullet proof vest.
He grinned sheepishly as if he was reading her thoughts as the rain soaked his handsome face. For some reason he reminded her of a young version of Denzel Washington, even though Brown was in his forties.
“I see you still have your sense of humor.” He said stoically.
She gave him a subtle shrug. She was too shaken to speak. She had come within inches of gunplay, possibly killing him near the police precinct. Her chances of escape would have been slim to none.
“You still want to come with me as we planned, we can chill, burn a blunt, discuss our differences. Like I said, you can fuck me in every position imaginable…” She gave him a sultry smile. “I have a confession to make and then if you like you can place the handcuffs on me and punish me with some rough sex. I love playing the sex slave role and you’ll never meet a bitch that can deep throat like me.” She licked the rim of her lips