The Cocaine Princess Part 5 (Cocaine Princess Series #5)(27)

Last year, Cereniti had stolen close to $5 million in drug money from Alexus, and although Alexus had forgiven the thieving bitch, the treacherous act still did not sit well with Blake.

He trailed them into the mansion and smiled when they took off their fur coats; thick derrieres never failed to put a smile on his face, and three fat asses were infinitely better than one.

They ended up at one of the umbrella-shaded octagonal tables that sat next to the indoor swimming pool. Alexus sent a housemaid to fetch a deck of playing cards and the “Think Like a Man” DVD, while Tasia and Tee-Tee walked over to the bar to get themselves some drinks.

Regarding Tasia with an accusing stare, Blake murmured: “I think you should have had Enrique to find out exactly who kidnapped our son, baby.” He retrieved a fresh box of White Owl cigars and a sandwich bag containing about a half ounce of Purple Kush from his hoody pocket. “I understand why the kidnappers killed the four bodyguards, and why they made that jewelry store owner give up the security footage…but what I don’t understand is why they didn’t touch Tasia.”

“Believe it or not, a lot of American men are against hurting women,” Alexus said. She was gazing at him from across the table. “And I really didn’t want to go searching for answers. All that matters is that we got our son back. Enrique killed the woman whose apartment it was, and her son, but he didn’t ask any questions. There was really no need to try and figure out who the kidnappers were. It just taught me to heighten our security and to never let anyone who isn’t family leave with our kids.”

Blake shifted his eyes from Tasia to Alexus, and suddenly all the grief he was feeling over his friend’s murder evaporated. Her perfect face held him spellbound. Without the makeup she was still beautiful, but with it she was even more stunning. Her long, straight black hair, parted down the middle, framed her angelic visage. The alluring scent of her perfume overwhelmed his senses.

Instinctively, he leaned toward her, planting his elbows on the table. She copied his movements, and their lips connected. Electricity sparked through him as he tasted her sweet breath. She closed her eyes, and a cavernous moan sounded in the back of her throat. Then she pulled back, glowering weakly as he split open a cigar and dumped the tobacco in the ashtray.

“Why are you mean-muggin’ me?” He asked, grinning.

“Because you always do this,” she complained. “You get my * all wet, and then you sit back and roll up your Kush like everything’s fine. Got me sitting over here—”

“Would you two please get a room?” Cereniti said as she and Tasia returned to the table, holding a bottle of Remy Martin and two crystal-stemmed glasses.

“Take that shit back and get some Ciroc,” Blake demanded calmly. He was halfway upset that his moment with Alexus had been spoiled.

Tasia rolled her eyes and sat down in the chair to the right of him, but Cereniti headed back over to the bar and grabbed two bottles of Ciroc vodka. By the time she made it back to the table, the housemaid was strolling in with the playing cards and the movie, and Blake was splitting open a second cigar after having already rolled the first blunt.

“What’s with you and the Ciroc?” Cereniti asked, handing Blake both bottles. “Is it because you like the taste, or are you just supporting Diddy? ‘Cause that niggas already filthy rich.” She took a seat to the left of him and started shuffling the cards.

“I’d rather put some money in a black man’s pocket than anybody else’s,” Blake said. “I’m about to start wearin’ that new clothin’ line Tunechi just dropped. I dig those Trukfit hats.” He broke up the bud of Kush and spread it across the empty cigar wrapper. Then he rolled it up, saliva-sealed it shut, and used his gold Zippo lighter to dry it.

Alexus was shaking her head at him. “You smoke more weed than anybody I’ve ever met,” she muttered.

Ignoring her observation, Blake fixed his gaze on the blunt as he put fire to the end of it. A wave of frustration abruptly washed over him. Someone had come looking for him, and it had resulted in the death of his best friend, one of the realest niggas he knew.

So who had sent the shooters? The question bounced around in his head like a tennis ball.

“Y’all wanna f*ck around with some X-pills?” Cereniti asked, still shuffling the cards. “I got a big bag of ‘em in my purse. My cousin gave me a thousand Blue Dolphins for three dollars apiece.”

Blake declined the offer, but Cereniti and Tasia each swallowed two of the pills, and they convinced Alexus to pop one.

The four of them started a spades game. After every hand, the three with the lowest number of books had to take two shots of Ciroc, which led to all of them being rock-star wasted by the end of the second game. They hardly even glanced at “Think Like a Man” as it played on the 500-inch flat-screen television over the bar.

“Is it just me, or is it hot as hell in here?” Alexus peeled off the white Marchesa dress and tossed it to the floor, regarding Blake with an uninhibited, lascivious expression that told him how incredibly freaky she was feeling without having to utter a single word.

“It’s not just you,” Tasia said. She stood up, pulled off her red dress and high heel shoes, and then dived head first into the heated swimming pool. Alexus and Cereniti, laughing heartily, splashed into the water a moment later.

Grinning his signature grin and smoking the second blunt, Blake rose from his seat and took the smartphone from his waist to take a couple of pictures of the girls in the pool. He had three new text messages from Nona and a text message from his music manager reminding him to be ready for his 106th and Park appearance tomorrow. He ignored Nona’s messages; no need in leading her on any further.