LOVE GROOVE: CHAPTER 8
By Mychael Martell
The boy's name was Saul. He was a beautiful young man. His face was shaped symmetrically, cheek bones high, nose long and straight. His complexion the color of cooper, his eyes were hazel, his lips full, his dark hair was worn in a low fade. He was 23 years old and a pretty sexy bottom boy with a wild ass and a talented tongue. A talented tongue that Lawrence experienced every night and every chance he got.
It was true that when he went to the Candy Shop he was looking for a trick for the night but perhaps Saul would survive the long haul. After all, now that Khalil was dead he needed to replace him and with some voice training he could make Saul even a bigger singing sensation than Khalil would have ever been.
Poor Khalil, he never knew that he was merely a pawn in Lawrence's grand plan having Khalil killed concerned him as much as stepping on a roach or putting a dog to sleep, it just has to be. He figured that by now the someone should have discovered Khalil's body in the hotel room and alerted the authorities and any half assed detective would be able to discover that Khalil was in the company of one Jerome Browne. He would hate to be Jerome Browne, being stalked by the L A P D.
Lawrence shifted and moaned slightly as Saul continued to suck his dick. Lawrence looked down at Saul's beautiful face with his dick going in and out of his hot moist mouth. Just then Saul opened his beautiful eyes and saw Lawrence looking down at him and he gently bit Lawrence's penis. Lawrence gasped and moaned. All thoughts but that of his immediate needs drowned out by the feeling. Lawrence moved his dick rapidly in and out of Saul's mouth. The young man was trying to keep up but Lawrence was more than a mouthful and his dick tested his gag reflex with each powerful thrust. Lawrence held his head in place as he fucked his mouth. He could feel himsefl close to an orgasm. He rolled Saul off of him and then grabbed Saul's thighs and legs and pushed them over his head. Saul protested and Lawrence shoved his dick into Saul's ass without any lube or preparation. Lawrence plunged deeper and deeper into Saul's ass despite the young man's protests and attempts to get away. The more young Saul fought the harder he fucked and the more he liked it. Lawrence could feel himself getting closer to his climax when his cellphone rang. Withdrawing from Saul's tight ass, Lawrence answered the phone. Only Marcellus and Elijah could be calling him and it had to be important.
"What do you have for me?" Lawrence demanded.
"They have found the body of Khalil." Marcellus informed him.
"Outstanding. Who's working the case?"
"Two LAPD detectives. Sgt. Cleo Jones and Lt. Richard Dennis. Both veterans of the force. Good detectives."
"African Americans?"
"Yes. Actually Lt. Dennis is one of the top men for a captaincy." Marcellus said.
"Hmmm...good motivation for the good lieutenant to solve this case and perhaps gain some captain's bars. Thank you Marcellus. You and Elijah take the rest of the night off." Lawrence hung up the cellphone just in time to see Saul getting dressed.
"And where are you going?" Lawrence asked as he got out of bed.
"Man, I'm leaving. I didn't come up here to get pounded and then ignored while you talk on the phone." Saul complained.
"I see," Lawrence walked over to Saul, "So if I apologized would you stay?"
"No," Saul said as he buttoned his pants and reached for his shirt but Lawrence stopped him as he pulled him into his arms. "Hey! Let me go!"
"If this doesn't turn you on then I will let you go." And with that Lawrence began to kiss and suck Saul's nipples. Saul tried to fight it but it was turning him on big time and before long he was coming out of his clothes again and being laid on the bed for round two.
When Mohammed and Tee arrived at the Wilshire Plaza they noticed the police cars immediately. Mohammed parked the SUV across the street and they both watched the hotel.
"I wonder what up in there?" Tee asked.
"Nothin' to do but go in and see." Mohammed said.
The two large black men got out of the vehicle and walked into the hotel. They looked around and then went to the front desk. The clerk looked a bit nervous. A blonde woman whose name was Tandy by her name badge...had to be a valley girl. Mohammed looked at Tee and winked. Tee knew the drill and he was ready to play his part.
"Can we ask you a few questions?" Mohammed asked.
"Are you guys detectives too? God, isn't it unreal about finding that singer guy dead up there in his room?" Tandy went on. Mohammed looked at Tee and winked.
"Yes ma'am...were you here all night tonight?"
"No actually they called me in after all you detectives came. Don found the man in the room...dead. OH MY GOD! I would have died! I would have really died!"
"Where is Don?" Tee asked
"Oh, he went home...I think?"
"Did the other detective's question him?" Mohammed asked.
"Don? Yeah. I think so. I still can't believe it happened right up there in 610 and is it true that the guy that was killed was nominated for a grammy this year?"
"Ma'am we can't give out all that information." Tee answered.
"Just to check information, Tandy. The victim, Khalil, he was registered in the room or was it in someone else's name?"
"Let me check." Tandy said as she went through the computer. "No..actually the room was reserved by a Mr. Jerome Browne."
Tee and Mohammed looked at each other.
"Thank you." Tee said as they both turned and walked back outside. Once they got into the SUV Tee called the house and Tameka answered the phone.
"Hey Meeka. How is J doing?"
"He came out of sleep a bit ago. He is laying down but he says his body aches and he has a headache. Where you boys?"
"We heading back to the house and we have some news. See you in quick minute." Tee said as he hung up the phone.
"Brotha J is being set up." Mohammed said.
"Yeah," Tee agreed, " And I know by who."
"Yeah? Who you think?" Mohammed asked.
"Lawrence Avery Duke."
"Big deal there. But we can't prove it." Mohammed said.
"Damn proof. If it's Duke behind this..." Tee showed his revolver, "Then he is a dead mothafucka!"
"I feel ya, Tee. But let's get the 411 on Duke before we move." Mohammed started the SUV and they were on their way back to the house.
Lt. Dennis and Sgt. Jones were walking through the lobby of the Wilshire Plaza and had just passed the desk clerk when Jones remembered that they needed to get Don Wayne's home address. When he went to the desk clerk, a white Valley girl named Tandy, for goodness sake, she gave him the information and as she gave it she mentioned to other detectives had asked about the murder to which Sgt. Jones replied.
"What other detectives?"
"The ones that just left," she said.
Jones called the lieutenant over.
"What's going on?" Lt. Dennis asked.
"She said that there were two other detectives here asking questions?"
Lt. Dennis asked for their names and to both his and Jones' annoyance they discovered that not only did she not get their names she didn't even ask to see their shields nor ID. He was sure that if he had asked why she would have said you all look the same.
"Can you describe the men?" Jones asked.
"They were big black men." Tandy said.
The detectives sighed and departed.
"Who you think was inquiring about this?" Jones asked.
"Don't know. But when we find Mr. Browne we will surely ask. I suggest we go pay him a quick visit." Dennis said.
When Jerome awoke his body felt like he had gone fifteen with Tyson and his head throbbed to be damn. His eyes were having trouble focusing and his memory was hazy. As he slowly and painfully sat up in the bed he realized that he was in his own bed but how did he get here? He remembered being with Khalil and having mad sex and then leaving there and going to R.J's and that was it.
When the sexy sistah strolled into the room with a body for damn he immediately reached for the bedside table drawer where his gun usually was.
"Naw, baby," She said. "Miss Meeka done scored that one."
"Who the fuck are you?" Jerome demanded and when his head throbbed he realized he didn't need to be doing any shouting.
"My name is TaMeka Jackson, but my friends call me Meeka." And she flashed a gold tooth smile.
"Damn, a thug princess." Jerome muttered.
Meeka laughed. It was a loud cackle that made his head hurt worse. "I like that. Thug Princess."
"What are you doing in my house?" Jerome demanded.
"Protectin' your ass. Mohammed and Tee told me to come over and watch out for you while they handled some thangs."
"Who in the hell is Mohammed?"
"Well, I sho ain't talkin bout Mohammed Ali....dayum that was one phine brotha who could whup ass. Fuck that freak Mike Tyson, he couldn't hold Ali's jock strap."
Jerome tried to get out of bed but he felt dizzy and laid back down and Tameka went over to him and tucked back into the bed. She felt his forehead and checked his eyes and at this point he really didn't care. He was feeling so bad that he wanted to die.
"So what kind of drugs you be doin'?"
"What?"
"Whatever drug you took has fucked yo ass right up."
"I ain't had no drugs. I had some champagne and that was it."
"Dayum boy, you betta leave that champagne shit alone then. You can't handle it." And she cackled again.
"Where the fuck is Tee?" Jerome demanded.
"Dayum nigga, I just told ya that he and Mohammed had to handle some thangs but they on the way back, shit."
As if on cue Mohammed and Tee walked into the room. When Tee saw Jerome awake a smile busted all over his face.
"Damn Jerome," Tee said as he went to him, "You scared a brotha to death."
"Tee! What the hell is going on around here?"
"We can explain everything when we get out of here and to a safe place." Mohammed replied.
"Nigga, I ain't going any place until someone tells me what's up."
Mohammed scowled but Tee spoke. "Jerome, Khalil is dead."
"SAY WHAT??"
"You heard me, J."
"Naw Tee! naw! I was just with him tonight." Jerome said.
"Brotha, he is dead as shit and Mohammed and I figured you are being set up for his murder."
Jerome blinked in disbelief. "Naw...naw. That's crazy."
Tee nodded his head, "And it's true. The police were all over the Plaza and the room you met Khalil was reserved in your name."
Jerome couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Mohammed stepped next to Tee. "Look Brotha. The fact is that you have been set up, for what reason we don't know. But we do know that the cops will be coming to question you and we gotta get you out of here."
"Why? I didn't do it." Jerome said
"Don't you understand? Someone has set your ass up. They got a dead brotha you been boning in a room registered in your name. What the fuck the cops posed to think?" Mohammed stated getting tired of going over this.
"Who said I was kicking it with another brotha?" Jerome defended.
That ticked Mohammed to no end. "Brotha if you wanna play that DL shit that's fucking fine with me but don't insult me by thinking I don't know the deal. When Tee found your ass and brought you back here he called me over to check you out. I know you was drugged and I know you was boning the dead brotha Khalil. Now, you got two seconds to decide if you want to find the bastard that has set you up and killed your piece or do you want to stay here and be questioned by the fine LAPD and end up booty up to some real thugs in prison?"
Jerome didn't need two seconds. "Let's roll out of here."
Mohammed nodded. "Meeka hit up Big Lenny and tell him we need a place to lay low. Tee, Jerome and I will be rollin over to my place until we hear from you."
"Got it Mo," TaMeka said.
"Tee, we got less than five minutes to clear out of here and we have just lost three."
They all got busy getting ready to move out.
R.J arrived home after the sex session at Giovanni's place. No one wanted him to go especially Trench, who wanted more of R.J's hot ass. But R.J had to leave. He was tired and his mind was still on Jerome and for some reason he had a feeling. A bad feeling that something was going on with Jerome. R.J checked his memory call and there were no messages from Jerome. He knew something wasn't right. He picked up the phone and dialed Jerome's number.
"Let's move!" Mohammed said as he and Tee helped the still weakened Jerome out of the back door where the vehicles had been relocated. They did not want to walk out the front door and right into the police. When the phone rang, everyone froze for a second. Tee looked at Jerome and then at Mohammed.
"Let's go! Fuck the phone." Mohammed said as they all filed out and TaMeka shut and locked the door.