Free All Hail the Queen by Meesha Mink

bigger one to replace it is the real pissing contest,” she said.
    Tank smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.
    Man, fuck it.
    Naeema walked out onto the balcony overlooking the bright lights and fast-moving energy of Times Square. The city’s sounds were alive and popping. Tank was in town to supervise the security detail for platinum rap artist Fevah during the premiere of her movie Killer Eyes. He invited Naeema along and they were planning on spending the weekend together.
    She gave zero fucks if someone could see her. She turned and leaned back against the balcony as she eyed Tank in nothing but his boxers as he removed everything from the pants he just took off. Through the haze of smoke Naeema took in his body. The way he moved. His tattoos. The swing of his big dick. His everything.
    And it all said motherfucking boss. He was a man in control.
    But she knew she could make him lose it.
    â€œWho’s working with you tonight?” Naeema asked, holding the blunt between her fingers as she took in the way his dick was thick even at rest.
    â€œYani’s escorting Fevah and her entourage in,” he said, moving over to the safe to unlock it and remove his weapon.
    â€œNo Grip?” she asked, surprised that his right-hand man wasn’t in attendance.
    â€œNah, he’s out of town,” Tank said, as he checked the Glock with speed and skill before setting it on the bed atop his outfit for the night. “That’s why I’m driving them all there and back.”
    Tank’s vehicles were all bulletproof, providing an additional layer of protection that he worked hard to provide for his clients. It was his job to make sure nobody got fucked up. He did it well. What security he couldn’tprovide via his licensed gun, his bulletproof vehicles, and his team he was able to provide via his training in hand-to-hand combat.
    â€œWell, thank you for getting me in to see the movie,” Naeema said. “I don’t have to fuck Fevah up for doing you a favor on some ill shit. Do I?”
    Tank leveled his eyes on her. “When we’re together we are together,” he said.
    Naeema released smoke through her lips. “Just make sure all the females you work with know that.”
    â€œThey can’t make me fuck ’em, Na, and I’m not looking for no pussy.”
    She gave him a look that said You better not be .
    â€œYou grabbed the wrong damn shirt,” Tank said, holding up a light gray button-down shirt.
    â€œYou’re just driving,” she said, knowing he favored wearing either all black or navy when he was on duty.
    â€œYeah you right,” he said, glancing up at her.
    He did a double take. “Damn you look sexy as shit, bae,” he said.
    Naeema arched her brow and tilted her head in a nod of thanks before she held the blunt to her mouth and took another toke. Her head was freshly shaven. Her makeup was beat with smoked-out eyes, long mink lashes, and a bright red lipstick that made her mouth plump. Large fake diamond studs in her ears. Her full-arm tattoo sleeve. The sexy lingerie. The five-inch stiletto heels. Her vixen body. All with the bright lights of Times Square as her backdrop as she smoked a blunt.
    Tank looked meaningfully down at his dick.
    Her eyes followed his. It was hard and long and pressedagainst his boxer briefs and pulled the waistband away from his body. Well, damn, somebody’s in a better mood.
    Naeema dropped the half a blunt and then pressed it beneath her shoe before she walked back into the room. She grabbed Tank by his dick with one hand and an armless chair with the other. She pulled both out onto the balcony. “Sit,” she said as she bent slightly to tug his boxer briefs down around his thighs before he did. The rim caught on his dick as she did causing it to spring back and forth like a diving board.
    â€œYou wild, Na,” he said, reaching up to smooth his hand over his Caesar as he shook his head