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  GUTTER (PART 2) – The Shine

  Please note: This book is part 2 of a 2-book series. (The Rise and Shine Series.) If you are reading this first, you are not reading them in chronological order. Please read, “Gutter – The Rise” – Part 1, first.

  (This is what the first book looks like.)

  GUTTER

  The Shine

  Written by Tiana Laveen

  Edited by Natalie G. Owens

  Cover layout by Travis Pennington

  Gutter is a 2-part series, a double novel. Both books in the series have been released on the exact same day, to ensure the best reading experience for my readers. There is no lingering cliffhanger, and no long delay to complete the story. This is, Part 2 – Gutter – The Shine.

  BLURB

  A gritty urban love story…

  Zake ‘Gutter’ Rayden has beaten the odds. Considered one of the most unique and gifted artists in the entertainment industry, he is a hot commodity and has taken the music world by storm for over a decade with his distinctive musical style and talent. With back-to-back, sold-out tours, cash to burn, number one songs on the billboard charts and Grammy nominations, his wildest dreams have come true tenfold. However, behind all the money, women, and paparazzi is a life full of strife and struggle. Dark secrets, too. His back against the wall, he must return to his roots to unravel the truth. While in his hometown of Red Hook, Brooklyn, Gutter unearths a Pandora’s box of epic proportions. The past, present and future have returned to collect its due, and it all centers around his estranged mother, and himself.

  Promise Bradford is Assistant Funeral Director of Horizons Funeral Home, Mortuary and Chapel. As of late, the families of the deceased aren’t the only ones that feel as if they’ve run out of time. Promise is determined to get her mojo back after a difficult past year full of ups and downs. Starting over is the hardest thing she’s ever had to do, but she is determined to get her life on track. One fateful day, she meets the musical superstar and just like that, an amazing chance encounter turns into something much more. Gutter and Promise are touched by the poignant finger of fate, and chemistry ignites. However, Promise harbors a secret, one that can destroy the newfound love she’s found.

  Can a man consumed by darkness ever find happiness outside of the limelight?

  Read “Gutter” to find out!

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2021 by Tiana Laveen

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are fictitious and products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. PIRACY IS AGAINST THE LAW.

  Please do not skip this section if you have any subject or contextual triggers.

  If it doesn’t apply, let it fly. What may not be offensive or upsetting to you may be so for someone else. This warning is simply to ensure the comfort of all readers involved. Thank you for your understanding.

  This book is intended for mature eyes ONLY. As the author, I never wish for my readers to be blindsided. If any of the below-mentioned topics offend you or may be a trigger, please proceed with caution:

  1. Profanity

  2. Graphic sexual encounters

  3. Discussions and instances of racism, injustice, and prejudice, which include occasional racial slurs

  4. Graphic violence

  5. Discussions of illness, neglect and death

  6. Drug usage, alcohol, and smoking—including marijuana, cigarettes and cigars

  7. Criminal behavior

  8. Loss of loved ones

  Oh, one more thing: For those unfamiliar with my work, I purposefully write ‘goddamn’ as ‘gotdamn.’ It’s an intentional spelling error. Just personal preference.

  Let’s continue…

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  About Part 2

  Title Page

  About this Book

  Copyright

  Warning

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  Gutter Music Directory

  About the Author

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  There She Was…

  Promise buttoned, unbuttoned, then re-buttoned her black and white checkered parka. She adjusted her black beret and smoothed her hand over the exposed side of her hair, worn tied into a ponytail at the nape. She’d put a lot of effort in her choice of attire while rehearsing for hours what she’d planned to say, and how’d she say it, in front of a mirror.

  Is this outfit okay?

  She checked her reflection in the window of a parked car. Sporting a tight black pencil skirt and ankle boots, she imagined she went too far with the whole ‘1950’s doll meets 1960s Beatnik’ look. It’ll have to do. I have no idea why I’m putting so much stock into these damn clothes. Nothing is going to make this any easier.

  Her Lyft driver was now halfway down the busy street, so she braced herself to face her boyfriend’s grand building on the Westside in Manhattan. A penthouse in Hudson Yards, to be exact. At the entrance, a tall doorman greeted her with a smile—an older Hispanic gentleman in a uniform and white gloves.

  “Are you here to see someone, Miss? You look amazing by the way. I really like that outfit.” His hazel eyes twinkled.

  “Thank you so much. I’m here to see Gutter. I mean, Zake Rayden.”

  “Okay, and what’s your name?”

  “Promise Bradford.”

  “Promise Bradford,” he repeated in a lower tone. “Is he expecting you?”

  “Yes.”

  The doorman nodded, slipped an older model cellphone out of his pocket, and made a call.

  “Mr. Rayden, you have a guest… Yes… Promise Bradford… Perfect… Shall I escort her in and send her up? …Very well.” He ended the call. “Right this way, gorgeous.”

  The doorman had managed to get the right mixture of class and flirtation down pat. She walked beside him into the main lobby and gasped at the sight. The intricate, arched ceilings in gold and taupe were incredible. A fountain to her right featured Greek-style figures frolicking in the mist. A table nestled in an elegant white seating area had on it a gold tissue box, mints, periodicals, napkins, and coffee or tea fixings. Large paintings hung on the lobby walls, and a long glossy desk, reminding her of a hotel reception, stood to her left.

  “I take it you’ve never been here before.” The doorman chuckled. “It’s magnificent, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, so pretty. Eye catching.”

  “I’m going to press Mr. Rayden’s floor. When the doors open, step inside and the elevator will do the rest. When you get off on his floor
, turn to your left and go all the way down the hall. His penthouse is the only one on that end, and his initials are inscribed on the door. Have a great evening.”

  “Thank you. You, too.”

  The doorman pressed the button, took her hand, kissed it, and walked away before she had a chance to respond. She stepped inside the elevator, made up of glass on all sides with the exception of the ceiling, which was brilliant gold. Light jazz music played as she ascended. She appreciated the moment of distraction the doorman had provided her, but now, the burden of her problems weighed her down again.

  Just tell him. Just say it.

  The elevator doors opened, and she stepped out and followed the doorman’s instructions. The entire area surrounding his penthouse was stark white and smelled like brand new carpet and paint. A few large plants decorated the space, but the place was fairly sterile, with the exception of miniature crystal chandeliers that hung every twenty or so feet. Taking a deep breath, she rang the bell. Gutter greeted her with a playful grin on his face, gripping a bottle of wine by the neck, and wearing nothing but his tattoo-covered birthday suit.

  “Oh, God. What if I had someone with me, boy? You can’t open a door butt naked!” He grabbed her, dragging her inside, and slammed the door behind her. “No romance. No ‘hey, how are you?’ You just want to get down to business.”

  “I haven’t seen you in over a week. Hell yeah, I want to get straight down to business. I want some ass. Make yourself at home, baby.”

  He winked then disappeared behind a partition, where she heard him pouring the wine. She looked around, trying to steady her heartbeat. Her botched nerves mixed with sheer excitement and a faint sense of gloom. At least the scenery is nice, even when he cusses me out…

  Gutter’s home was simply breathtaking. There was a double fireplace in the middle of the room which swiveled back and forth. On the wall was some panel with various buttons above it, and the television on the wall was larger than the square footage of her bathroom. It was on a screensaver, featuring a serene scene of Autumn leaves falling in a park.

  “You must’ve had this place professionally decorated because there’s no way you managed to pick out the perfect curtains, rugs, plants, artwork and furniture with no help whatsoever.”

  “Don’t come in my house insulting me, woman!”

  She burst out laughing at his gruff tone.

  “It just so happens that I did in fact work with a couple of designers, but the color scheme was my idea. Everything else I left to them. I don’t care about that shit.”

  She tittered as he kissed her gently, then handed her a glass of white wine.

  “You said earlier there was something you wanted to talk to me about?”

  Just then, his cellphone rang. He picked it up from the coffee table.

  “It’s Will. Let me take this call.”

  As he spoke to his manager in the kitchen, she continued to peruse his impressive crib.

  “Sorry about that.”

  He joined her once again and refreshed her glass, then set the wine bottle down.

  “Thank you.” She took a gulp without really tasting it, catching a glimpse of his big, semi-erect dick out the corner of her eye. It had taken her nearly twenty-four hours to be able to walk again after their first romp, and she’d loved every aching minute of it. The second session, a mere two days later, had garnered similar results. The White man was packin’, and not only that, but Gutter also knew how to use what Mother Nature had so generously blessed him with. He was a skilled lover and wasn’t the least bit shy about expressing his desires.

  “Um, so, all of these awards are yours, I take it?” She spun around, pointing to them.

  “Now who else would they be for? You think I’ve got Billie Eilish’s and Machine Gun Kelly’s shit in here?”

  He sported a ridiculous grin and she rolled her eyes at the smart-mouthed fucker.

  “You’re so accomplished. How many Grammys have you won, Gutter?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Damn. That’s amazing.”

  He retrieved his glass of wine from the kitchen—a red wine as opposed to her white. She approached one of the gilded gramophone Grammy awards and ran her finger down the lustrous golden side. “These look a bit different on TV. Bigger than I thought.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Gutter…” Her face warmed with mirth, but she refused to give in to his silliness.

  As she read the inscriptions on various medals, sipping her wine, she felt his presence right behind her. Looming. He placed his drink down, then took her wine glass from her hand and set it on a mantle. Gathering her in his arms, he gave her a passionate kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he brought her closer to explore deeper, the mutual craving exploding and begging for fulfilment. When he pulled away, he looked rather serious. In desperate need.

  “Let’s finish this in my bedroom.”

  “Aren’t you going to be a gentleman and give me a tour first?”

  He placed her down and began to point in a million different directions as if directing rush-hour traffic. “That’s the fucking kitchen. This is the damn living room. That’s the freakin’ parlor. Those are closets. That’s the hall. Down there is a guest bathroom. That’s a motherfucking guest bedroom, with its own john. That’s my gotdamn office. There’s another damn guest bedroom. Down there to the right is my at-home studio, and right down there is where we’re going so we can fuck. Tour officially over. Let’s go.”

  She burst out laughing when he snatched her by the wrist and practically dragged her down the hall.

  “Gutter, you’re rude and have a one-track mind. You could at least try to butter me up first.”

  “For what?! You’re over here looking like a sexy Mary Poppins, slowing down shit. Do you have a spoonful of sugar?” He said in a faux English accent. “Come on!”

  “If I were Mary Poppins, I’d beat you with my umbrella.”

  “Umbrella, like Rihanna? I’m surprised you didn’t think I had her Grammy here, too.”

  “You took my question out of context earlier and you know it. Now you’re just being childish and mean!” She cackled when he yanked her up in his arms and carried her the remainder of the way down the hall. When he opened his bedroom door, she was agape. Speechless. Gutter placed her into an oversized black leather chair, then trotted across the room and began fiddling with the fireplace.

  His bed was black with large posts, sitting higher than the furniture on a two-stair platform. A raven was carved at the base of each post, reminding her of a totem pole. A black fuzzy rug sat at the foot of the bed, along with a distressed-wood chest with silver hardware and a black throw draped across it. A modern silver ceiling fan with dangling crystals hung from up above. The space offered an interesting blend of classic and contemporary that paired well. To the far right was a sitting area that brought to mind old Hollywood due to the French design of the chaise and matching chairs, mirrors, and even a small bookcase stacked with books.

  On the other side of the room was a door she assumed would lead to the main bathroom. Next to it was a roped off, curtained area which sparked her curiosity. The sounds of ‘Only Human,’ by the Jonas Brothers, one of her favorite songs, set the mood.

  The electronic fireplace was roaring, and Gutter lit a small green candle he had in the sitting area, then dimmed the lights. In moments they were lip-locked, their hands exploring each other and their burning bodies growing hotter by the instant.

  “While I was gone, all I could do was think about you…” he said between urgent kisses, nestling his face against her neck and sucking, nibbling. Her head lolled back as waves of pleasure rippled through her.

  Stepping back, she removed her clothes while he stroked his beard and watched with hooded dark maple eyes. His fat dick now stood at full attention, pointed right at her pussy.

  “Can’t wait to play with you.”

  “Make me your toy then.” Her panties, the last shred of cl
othing, puddled at her ankles before she kicked them aside. She caught a cool breeze between her thighs from the ceiling fan and felt the moisture on her slit tingle. He picked her up in his arms and warmed her nipple with a hot, wet mouth, while teasing the other with his hand. The wind was practically knocked out of her when he tossed her on the bed, falling right along with her—still nursing from her like a starving baby.

  “Open your legs.” He reached between their bodies, his movements urgent. She sighed with anticipation as he stroked her pussy. She gyrated her hips, pressing against his working digits. “Your pussy is so wet, baby. All of this honey is for me, isn’t it?”

  Her breath hitched when he finger-fucked her nice and slow.

  He brushed her lower lip with his, his lip piercing added another layer to the euphoric sensations. With perfectly placed kisses against her cheek, neck, and collarbone, he trailed her body, and once he reached her hips, he nudged her thighs apart, pinning them down against the bed. It wasn’t long before the sounds of him feasting on her wet pussy competed with the music and the utterances of her unbridled pleasure.

  “You taste amazing, baby.” He looked up at her for a moment, then closed his eyes, sucking and licking her clit like the pro that he was. Doja Cat’s ‘Streets’ started to play and she exploded as he moved his tongue to the rhythm of the song. The beautiful violence of her tremors hurt her head, her soul, and left her on fire and feeling loved.

  Heavy, hard muscle wrapped around her, squeezing her to him, cradling her like she was a precious jewel he refused to let anyone else see. He slipped behind her, laying her on her side, his taut body pressed against hers. She shuddered when he kissed the top of her head, reached between her legs, and stroked her engorged pussy. He grinded his groin against her, the heaviness of his love muscle dragging along her skin, a mere hint of how it would be once he was inside her love.