Pussy Trap 4: The Shadow Of Death Part 6

Baseem emerged from the bathroom drying his hands and smiling at the condition he had just put her in. "You good?" he asked, s.n.a.t.c.hing her panties from the desk and sticking them in his back pocket.

"I can't believe you did that," She looked at him shaking her head.

"That was your fault. Don't talk s.h.i.+t and I won't have to test that s.h.i.+t," he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"They are waiting for you, Miss. Bivings," Megan's voice boomed.

"They waiting on you," Baseem teased.

Simone grabbed her files a she tried to gather her thoughts. When she opened the door, there stood her boss and several clients with black suits and very serious faces.

"Are you ready, Miss. Bivings? We're waiting for you," Mr. Connors asked.

"Yes, sorry for the delay," she answered, feeling frazzled as she tugged at her skirt.

Baseem walked out of her office and looked each man over. Stevens' eyes almost busted out of his head when he saw him emerge from behind her.

"Mr. Baseem," Mr. Connors stuttered a little shocked at his presence.

"Good afternoon. I hope you are taking good care of my money."

"Yes, sir...we are on top of it all."

"Good. Have my accounts transferred to Miss. Bivings. I feel safer with her handling me," he looked over at Simone's blus.h.i.+ng face.

"Right away, Mr. Baseem. Steven, have all the accounts transferred to Miss. Bivings and give her a full report after our meeting," he looked at Steven with a stern eye.

"Thank you, Miss. Bivings. I'll call you later for an update," Baseem said as he began to move pa.s.s the men. "Y'all enjoy the rest of the day," he looked in Steven's face and smiled at his surprise.

"You do the same, sir," Mr. Connors replied and all the men turned to watch Baseem walk away.

Steven's eyes lowered into a small slit as he looked down at the red lace panties tucked partially in Baseem's back pocket. Simone caught what everyone else was looking at, and her pretty brown face turned beet read.

"Are we ready, gentleman?" she tried to compose herself, and then walked off toward the conference room.

"I guess you better, 'step your game up' as they say on the streets," Mr. Connors joked.

Steven could feel his blood boil as the money he was making off of his golden goose slipped through his hands and fell in between Simone's legs.

Chapter 10.

Thank you so much...

"I am so happy you're here," Goldie said as she closed the door behind Baseem.

"I had to come, you sound like you were about to jump from the ledge," he said moving smooth down the hallway.

"This d.a.m.n Ikea furniture is for the birds. I done read the instructions forward and backwards."

"I got you ma," Baseem said, placing his tools on the floor and pulling his s.h.i.+rt off. Then he removed his watch and pinky ring. He stood in his t-s.h.i.+rt, staring at Goldie and waiting for her to lead the way.

Goldie's eyes moved all over the muscles in his chest and arms. She shook her head then turned toward the bedroom.

Baseem grabbed his black tool bag and followed her down the hall. He came up behind her and eyed the dimples in her lower back that peeked out slightly from the top of her stretch pants. Goldie stood looking at all the different pieces that needed to be a.s.sembled and just slowly shook her head.

"Where you put the instructions?"

"They are over there on the window seal," Goldie pointed to the big bay window to the left.

Baseem moved past Goldie, grabbed the instructions then went to work.

"Let me get the baby bathed and settled and I will come back and help you," she said as she exited the room.

"Nah, I'm good. You can hook a brother up with something to eat though," he rubbed his stomach and smiled.

"Oh, I got your back. You just saved my life," Goldie walked off to get the baby straight and then hit the kitchen.

Baseem listened to Pandora on his phone and bopped his head as he put each piece together perfectly. His stomach began to growl as his nostrils were filled with the aroma of steak, onions and biscuits. He could barely concentrate; he stacked each piece and when the last one was in place, he stood back and filled his chest with pride.

Goldie walked in the room all cheese with her hands folded on her chest.

"I told you I had yo back; you owe me one," he looked up and smiled.

"Wow. This is so nice. Thank you, Bas," Goldie spoke in a high-pitched tone and threw her arms around his neck.

Baseem caressed her back, inhaling her fragrance.

Goldie closed her eyes and enjoyed the touch of a man. Momentarily, she felt a surge of guilt and pulled back; fidgeting with the sides of her s.h.i.+rt. "You ready to eat?" she asked, looking around the room at the way the dark blue and red bunk bed set with the slide was positioned in the room.

"Let me wash my hands. I'll meet you in the dining room," he slid past her, heading to the bathroom.

"Okay," Goldie walked swooped up the trash then headed to the kitchen to prepare their plates. She placed the juicy meat over the white rice with gravy and put the cauliflower and cheese on the side. Last to hit the plate was b.u.t.tery corn on the cob with Obay seasoning. She topped it off with homemade mash potatoes with ranch dressing and mushroom and onion gravy.

Baseem walked over to the table and his mouth watered as each scent eased into his nostrils. Taking a seat, he rubbed his hands together with antic.i.p.ation.

Goldie put his food on the plate and sat it down in front of him.

Baseem filled his lungs with hot-flavored steam. "d.a.m.n, ma...you ain't playin'. These homemade biscuits? Let me find out," he picked up his folk and dug in.

"Uh, yes. I'm a real woman. I'm not your Kentucky Fried Chicken eating b.i.t.c.hes you mess with from the club," Goldie shook her head as she poured them a gla.s.s of wine and took a seat.

"I hear you, ma," he chuckled then continued to fill his mouth with the tender meat and potatoes and gravy.

Goldie and Baseem sat and talked awhile about some of the events they had gone through in the past year. Some were joyful and some were painful; but they both had to be thankful for making it through.

Baseem smiled as Goldie filled their gla.s.ses and filled his plate with more of the tender meat and rice. He dipped the biscuit in the warm gravy and sucked it down like he had not eaten in years. Goldie was filled with joy as she watched him chow down and lick his fingers. When they were done, Goldie stood and collected the plates and took them into the kitchen. Baseem walked to the bathroom and washed his hands and face. On his way back, Goldie met him right outside the kitchen door.

"Thank you for all your help today," she stated, not looking up.

"I told you I got your back, and I mean that in every way. You need something...you or the baby, come to me first," he gave her a firm gaze.

Goldie looked up and smiled. "I know you got me," she reached out and grabbed his arm.

"You better be careful where you put your hands," his heart jumped a little.

"Boy, please...you ain't thinking about my hands, you know all those b.i.t.c.hes be on you. But, thank you for being a good friend," she kissed him on the chin. "You want something else to drink?" she said, turning back to the kitchen.

"Nah, I'm good. Thank you," he headed to the living room. Baseem grabbed his s.h.i.+rt and pulled it over his head.

Goldie came back into the room with a drink in each hand. Pa.s.sing him one, she took a seat on the couch.

"Nah, I'm straight, ma."

"You gonna just leave without having your last drink?" she extended her arm holding the gla.s.s up to him.

"I'ma have this one. But don't be trying to take advantage of me," he took a seat next to her on the couch.

"Ain't n.o.body thinking about you; you are safe up in Goldie's spot," she put her hand up in surrender.

"Oh, I'm safe?" he asked, taking the drink to his lips.

Goldie felt the tension building between them and she quickly ducked it. "Anyway, Mr. Baseem...what's on your agenda for the evening?" she asked, taking few sips.

"You know me...always on the grind," he responded, looking in her eyes.

"Indeed. Let me ask you something," she paused and took another sip. "Do you ever get tired?"

Baseem gripped his gla.s.s and took in a little air. "To be honest, no. It's like I was born with this hand and no matter how many times they reshuffle the deck, I keep getting the same cards," he continued to stare in her eyes.

Goldie felt a lump rising in her throat as her next words fought to be freed from her lips. "I thought I could never get tired until I had to clean Night's brains off my skin," An onslaught of emotion stole her moment and a tear escaped her eye.

Baseem reached over and ran the back of his hand gently over her face catching her tears. "You're going to be a'ight; you're built for this s.h.i.+t. Plus, little man is going to keep you on point," he flashed her that s.e.xy smile.

Goldie forced a smile to her face then wiped at her eyes. "Thank you, Bas."

"I told you, I got you. Come walk me to the door," he patted her thigh placed his gla.s.s on the table then stood up and pulled her to her feet. "Let me know if you need anything." he leaned in and gave her a firm embrace.

Goldie closed her eyes as she felt the strength in his hands pulling her closer. It felt as if every muscle in his arms caressed her back.

"I sure will," she inhaled him as she pulled back; Goldie enjoyed the way she felt in a man's arms, but she knew they need not cross that line. Goldie gripped his hand and gave him a smile. "Thank you," she said then headed to the door.

Baseem's eyes roamed over her body as she walked off. He just licked his lips and rubbed his hands together at the visuals that played in his head.

Goldie opened the door wide and as he pa.s.sed her, she took another deep breath.

"Lock up and get some rest," he kissed her on her forehead then moved swiftly toward the elevator, keeping the boundaries of their relations.h.i.+p intact.

"Be safe, Bas," she yelled out.

"Always," he said as he stepped on the elevator.

Goldie closed and locked the door, set the alarm and headed to her room; stripping along the way. She needed a cold shower and quickly.

Chapter 11.

Out of Your League "Thank you for seeing me on such a short notice," Brenda headed to a seat in front of Mr. Fucciano's huge mahogany desk.

"Good Afternoon," he rose to his feet as she sat down. "I don't really know how I can help you, but I will listen," he said as he sat back resting his arms on the chair.

"We have a common interest and I am interested in removing that thorn from both of our sides," she clutched her purse in her lap and crossed her legs.

"You will have to speak plain words so there is no confusion," the calmness of his deep, Italian accent played well against her ear drums.

Brenda took a deep breath then put it on the table. "Mr. Wells needs to be removed from the equation. I know you have business with him, but I know someone who can fulfill what he is bringing you and double it," she stated confidently.

"You are so way out of your league, Miss Watson. My relations.h.i.+p with Kayson is not one of finance, it is one of trust; and you, my dear, I do not trust."

"You trust a man that allows his wife to make decisions on his behalf? I thought you were old school," she hurled an insult in his direction.

Mr. Fucciano chuckled. "Aren't you someone's woman that they sent on the front line to try and negotiate?" he stood up, fastening his jacket. "If you will excuse me, I have a meeting to attend," he came around the desk and stood by her side.

Brenda stood up speaking her final words. "You are making a huge mistake."

"And so are you," he returned word play, placing his hand against her back and lead her to the door. "Have a nice day," he escorted her to the hallway.

"You do the same. Wish we could be meeting under different circ.u.mstances," Brenda said as she walked off.

Mr. Fucciano didn't respond; he watched her walk onto the elevator then he turned toward the conference room. As he walked, he thought about Brenda's proposition. A father moving in on his son is not too un-common, but to have this woman in the middle, what is the purpose of that, he thought as he approached the gla.s.s enclosed area.

He paused when he looked in and saw the slim and curvy, dirty blonde haired, white girl with legs for days. They seemed to extend from the bottom of her short skirt and planted themselves into the ground with every step. The woman moved around the boardroom, commanding everyone's attention as she spit out numbers and time frames.

Fucciano pushed the door open slow and stepped inside. Jill, his a.s.sistant, looked up and saw him standing there and interrupted the presentation to announce his presence.

"Uh, oh hold on. We have a very special someone in the room; please welcome Mr. Fucciano,"

The room erupted in applause and Jill pulled out a chair for him at the top of the conference table.