dare excerpt 2

Thug had a touch of the devil in his eye. "Can I blindfold you?"

"Blindfold me?" Maya tried to return the sexy look but this was becoming too Scorsese.

Robeson nodded. "For security purposes."

Maya looked at the back of Hosed's head. It would be ok. She took a breath. "Yes." She leapt from the ledge as Robeson took his black and white scarf from his head and tied it over her eyes. Blind trust. Foolish, but she was already soaring toward the soft earth. Flying. She could see nothing. Hosed drove for another hour or so while they listened to Thug's music. Maya giggled uneasily.

"Your giggle is sexy." That voice could lead her anywhere. When they exited the ride onto concrete she was spun around three times, then walking in the daytime darkness. Thug greeted people right and left. None of them commented on the fact that the most famous back from the dead man in the world was leading a blindfolded woman. She saw twisted headlines and news stories. That's when Maya knew things were terribly wrong. If Woody had gone straight to the police, this would never have happened. They were buzzed into a heavy metal door and were riding in an elevator that smelled faintly of piss.

A corridor. A zillion locks. Another metal door. Footsteps echoing. Trust., trust, trust, but why?

"Ready Cleo?" Thug untied the blindfold. "Welcome."

Ok. Wow. Vision. His space was... breathtaking - a large loft, all decorated in shades of black and white. Huge black and white photos of people with different color ebony skins. A large open space divided into a living room, library (?!), kitchen, studio and bedroom. There were heavy black drapes everywhere.

"Where are we?" Maya asked.

"A housing project in New York. I blew out three apartments to create this space."

"I've never seen anything like this." What does one say after being blindfolded and being taken to a secret location? "This is... different, Robeson. Did you use a decorator?" Ugh, lame. Oh well.

"Decorator?" Thug laughed. "Nah baby. This is all me. This is where the kid's been resting his head for the past 6 years. Like I said, in plain view." Thug laughed again, louder this time like the idea of pulling the wool over everyone's eyes got him pumped.

Maya was nervous not only about her safety (the man was convicted for sexual assault and goddess knows what else) but about her body. He was quite possibly the biggest musical star of their generation and had been with every flavor of flawless women - some of whom were framed in artful nude portraits on the austere walls. Great.

"The people who live in these projects, Cleopatra, are down and dirty hand-to-mouth poor black, brown, red, yellow people."

Maya followed him into the space. "So how did you hide from them?"

"Your man was never hiding, baby." Maya pressed rewind on the words your man. Wow. And she thought that she was jumping the gun. "They all know I'm their neighbor. They just kept it low. No bribes, no payoffs, no threats. Just the code of the street. They brought my groceries ‘til Fresh Direct came out. They tended to me when I was sick and served as my cooks, my handymen. Whatever I needed."

"Why?" escaped from Maya's mouth.

"Honor among thieves baby. They cared for the man they know cared for them. No matter how many albums I sold I let it be known that I was one of them."

Maya assembled the pieces in her mind. "Deep." This iconic man was a neighbor in the projects and they kept his secret.

"Don't worry. I wasn't just taking. I invested in the buildings financially; gave money for books and medicine; you know, shared a little love with people who ain't got none."

"Heavy." Books lined shelves and were stacked in piles around the room. Enough to open a public library. Maya scanned the shelves. Morrison. Ellison. Angelou. Hughes. Shakespeare. Proust. "It's like a professor lives here, not a mega rapper. I feel at home."

"Check this out." Thug ran across the floor and jumped up on the top of a huge sofa.

If you're jumping, jump. Maya slipped off her Manolo heels and caught up with him. She climbed to the top of the couch and followed Thug's pointing finger past the exposed brick wall. She expected to see brothas duking it out in an alley.

Maya put her hand over her mouth. "A bird's nest!"

Little blue baby birds were being tended to by their Mama. The nest was awkwardly lodged between two buildings and Mama was feeding them bits of something. The tiny birdies looked up, beaks open, awaiting sustenance.

"Bluejays," Thug said.

"It's a miracle." Maya felt herself tearing up at the perfection of it all.

"It is," said Thug. He took Maya in his arms. They sat in silence on top of his leather sectional multi-couch watching the bluejay show, each grateful for all sorts of things, and dozed off.

Maya felt sleep drool on her face. She also felt watching eyes. She opened hers and wiped the dribbles away. Embarrassing. Thug was still holding her and watching her like she was the nest. It was pitch black outside now and being in his arms was nourishing. Warm. She felt... safe.

"Hello," he said.

"Heyyyy." Maya raised her brows. She felt silly although she was unsure why. She shifted her weight, trying to give Thug some relief. "Aren't your legs asleep?" She spoke away from him in case her breath was foul.

Thug took her chin and turned her face toward him. "Baby, I've been shot so all of that is nothing to me."

"Oh." Maya tried to see the birdies in the darkness. "What did that feel like?"

"What? Being shot?" Thug lifted up his shirt.

Maya nodded. He took her left hand and traced his tight abdomen and chest. There were at least eight scars. Some were raised keloids visible through the tattoos, others were flat and barely perceptible. His body was a journal of his life. Words, pictures, scar tissue and muscles. He was a book that she wanted to devour. Her hand grazed his nipples and he flinched. She wanted to rest her face on his sturdy chest.

Thug pulled his shirt down over Maya's hand and stroked her bone straight press and curl, any promise of ringlets faded with the day. His touch was tender.

"We should get some dinner," he said. "The choice is yours. Chinese or my home cooking."

She felt herself dissolving into him and feeling easier about the whole thing. "Home cooking, huh? A man of many surprises. That depends. What can you cook?"

He jumped up. "I'll show you."

Maya didn't want to separate so soon. "Sounds good," she said.

Thug headed toward the kitchen. Maya started to walk to the bathroom until she remembered that she didn't know where anything was. It felt so natural for her to be in his safe house that she'd forgotten.

"Master bath over there, guest bathroom to your right," Thug said, reading her mind.

"Which should I use?"

"It's on you, Cleo X."

Maya headed past a California king-sized bed to the master bath. She wasn't planning on being a guest. Ooh. Her blood sugar dropped. She didn't want to be a diva, but she had to eat. Now.

"Here." Thug walked over and handed her a Ziploc bag of baby carrots. "These should tide you over." Timing. Ziploc? Hilarious.

She pictured Mr. Crimnalistic Eternal Thug Menace holed up zip-locking fresh veggies far from the roar of the crowd. It was too close to Tupperware! Maybe Ziploc bags were the great equalizer. Who couldn't use a sealed stay fresh pouch?

"Um, you don't have a plastic cap, do you Robeson? I want to take a shower."

"What? Your hair can't get wet?" he called out.

"It can, it's just..." It had been weeks since Maya had handled her own hair. "I don't know what Rob and Luci have planned and I need to stay presentable."

"Scared that it'll revolt and get to turning back?"

"Shut up!!" Maya laughed and closed the bathroom door. John Coltrane's tones were filling the space.

"You know Napoleon thought that it was sexier when Josephine didn't wash," she heard Thug yelling. "Look in the closet for towels."

She looked at his black and grey bathroom full of stone and slate and found that she had no desire to hyperventilate. She peeped the glass-no nosebleed. Yay!!! Ok, what are you doing Maya. Why do you need to take a shower? To be fresh. Just in case. Just in case.

Maya was in the shower trying to figure out the five nozzles when the door opened. Uh-oh. She wasn't sure that she just wanted to go for it like that. Not right away.

"Just leaving a T-shirt and shorts." Thug closed the door behind him.

Maya walked out of the bathroom and into Eden. Incredible. There must have been about twenty five candles lit all over the space. Good, maybe he wouldn't be able to get such a good look at her in the dark. Maya felt like an un-sexy schmo in a man's t-shirt and boxers, her hair somewhere between a fro and a cold wave. Taking a shower was a brilliant plan.

"How'd I get so lucky?" Thug asked.

She was grateful for the reassurance. "What did you make?"

"I did a reheat but it is my cooking, I promise. Spaghetti and tofu meatballs. You don't eat meat do you?" The food was laid out on the coffee table. It looked divine in a big bowl next to bread and a salad. Thug pulled Maya next to him on the sectional.

"I, uh, do," Maya said anxiously.

Thug looked up. "Why?"

"Well.... I didn't used to. I was raised vegetarian."

Thug furrowed his forehead. "That's unusual. In a group home?"

Whoops. "Uh, yeah." Maya wanted to explain but she didn't know how. "No. Well my Granny Ruby was very influential in my life."

"I hear that. Me too. I respect all you been through but no more meat, ok?" Thug handed her a square black Japanese style plate. "Life. It ain't easy."

"No," said Maya. "It's not." She didn't explain to Thug that she now loooved the taste of chicken, beef and fish too in case it was on his hitlist. She didn't want to kill the vibe but technically she was not supposed to be eating bread or pasta. So now what? She promised her nutritionist and Luci that if she was ever going to eat anything "off plan" that she could call and inform them. Bump it. This whole shebang was off plan.

"What do you want?" he asked.

She dipped wheat bread in olive oil. "Same as you. The pinnacle of happiness." Yummy.

Thug and Maya indulged in scrumptious food, conversation and wine and when they were finished eating they were drunk, mostly on each other. What now? Ask him to kick some rhymes? Maybe talk more about the neighbors? Or ask him about his beef with Manifesta and everybody else Athena said he had beefs with? It's better to be thought a fool than to open your mouth and prove it, her father would say. Maybe she should just---

Thug leaned in and gave Maya a minty kiss. Actually he put his lips to hers and sucked her tongue deep into his mouth. It was like whoa. Then, he kissed her. Kissed her. Kissed her. Mm. She felt his lips on hers. Her tongue had a direct connect to her spot.

Her heart pounded against his chest. She put her hands on his shoulders. He put hands on either side of her face and kissed her nose, her forehead and her cheeks. It was all so... sweet. Maya was not used to sweet. Both Big Rob and the therapist were completely aggressive. This man was about doing work. She could feel her pulse thump-thumping with the music. His music. He smelled like manhood. It had been too long. She was the damsel in the Harlequin novel surrendering to Fabio and she couldn't wait. She started to pull off the T-shirt.

Thug placed his hands solidly on top of hers. "I like to lead."

"OK." She was officially wet. She waited for his next move. He put his hands on her backside and alternated between kneading and caressing as he continued with The New Kiss. Mmm. Triumph. This brother was about making love. Tongue. Kissing. Mouth. Lips. Throat. He kissed his way back down to her feet and back up to her lips. The ones on her face. Maya tried to roll over on top of him. She licked the dragon on his arm. She wanted to make love to his tattoos, and keloids too.

"I told you I'm in charge. I'm a grown man." That he was. The grown man took her hands and placed them up over her head. She wanted to turn this grown man out. Seal the deal. "Patience," he whispered then Thug stopped and looked at Maya. Most people kind of look generally into someone's face but he was really looking at her. Into her eyes. Into her soul. Into her. She liked seeing herself reflected in his irises. She was gorgeous there.