Eight, thick, curved inches.
Fucking broads. One dick was never enough. So now he had to compete with a fucking fake-ass dick. He took another gulp of his beer. As the brew heated through his veins, the thought of someone—or something—else fucking her made him feel murderous. He felt he’d seriously beat the shit out of a motherfucker, beat his skull down to the white meat, for even thinking about trying to press up on what was his.
Fuck, man. Get a grip. What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s a damn dildo.
He laughed at the ridiculousness of feeling jealous over a fucking sex toy. There was no way a damn manmade cock could fuck her like the real thing, the way he could.
But, fuck it.
After she’d sucked his dick then ate his babies, she’d given him strict instructions as to what type of items she wanted. Big. And black.
He clicked on a link for sextoyfun.com and, after close to thirty minutes of perusing the products, he settled on some shit called Cockzilla, a black, sixteen-and-a-half-inch dildo.
His eyes widened when another item caught his attention. A Clone-A-Willy Vibrating Dildo kit. Get the fuck out of here. Is this shit for real? He read it again. The description said he could make an exact replica of his own dick. Hell, he had nothing to lose. Shit. He was proud of his thick, veiny dick. He’d give it a try, then give it to his baby as a surprise. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. Then she could have access to his cock whenever she wanted it.
He took another swig from his beer, then added the kit to his cart, along with a vibrating jelly dong. He made his purchase, then, somehow, landed on another link. Zane’s Pleasure Products. Shit. Now he was curious as fuck to see what this freaky broad had going on. He’d never read any of her books, but he’d watched her two television shows, The Jumpoff and The Sex Chronicles on Cinemax, so he knew what time it was with her.
There he purchased Heaven a seven-inch, multi-speed massager.
Rawlings blew out a curse when he was done, then clicked out of his browser, before standing to his feet. He stretched and yawned, then began stripping out of his uniform. Next he pulled his undershirt off, then came out of his boxers, leaving a trail of clothing as he made his way to the bathroom where he turned on the shower, full blast and steaming hot. He lathered up, then languidly stroked his soapy dick, dying to be back inside his baby again; him unleashing his seeds. In her mouth. In her pussy. He even wanted to feel it in her ass.
He closed his eyes to relish in the memory of her mouth on his cock, her tongue along his shaft, her fingers digging into his ass cheeks.
He pumped his dick in his fist. Threw his head back.
And growled.
Twenty minutes later, he walked out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, his balls half-a-pound lighter.
As he puttered around his bedroom, before climbing into bed, he gave thought to the purchases he’d made earlier. This was some twisted shit. Yet, he’d gotten his baby what she’d requested.
Now the million-dollar question was: How the fuck was he going to get all this shit into the prison?
TWENTY-THREE
Strange Fruit . . .
“Hey, there,” Heaven said as she approached the young woman who’d come to her cell over a week ago. She hadn’t seen her since that day, nor had she gotten the girl’s name. But she’d heard from the prison vine (aka Sabina) that it was—shit. She raked her brain trying to remember what the gossipers said her name was. Tina something. She knew it was some crazy-ass name, but she couldn’t remember it for nothing.
“Catina, right?”
The girl scowled. “My name ain’t no damn Catina.”
“Then what is it?”
“Why?” she asked defensively.
Heaven took her in. She looked different. Cleaner. She’d washed her hair and had the ends of a fresh weave curled. And it looked as if she’d put on a little makeup—eyeliner and mascara. She even had her nails painted. Yet, she still looked hard. Hardened. The streets, the hood, life choices, all had a way of snatching a young woman’s innocence and youth away from her if she l
et it.
Heaven didn’t need to know her life story to know she had it rough. Her gaze drifted to the young woman’s arms crossed tightly over her chest, then she looked back up into her face. She was a pretty girl.
Heaven recalled that the girl had big breasts, but she hadn’t really looked at them until now. They were beautiful breasts that many women would kill to have. Big, bouncy breasts made for tit fucking and lots of sucking.
Heaven shifted her gaze again. She’d felt bad for treating her the way she had, even if she had been generous enough to give the young woman a little starter kit. Still, she didn’t have to treat her like trash even if she did smell like it.
Heaven glanced around the tier, then brought her attention back to the chick in front of her. “I wanted to have a word with you; that’s all.”