“The ring never seemed to bother you before.”
“Maybe because I’ve barely seen you wear it.”
Right then, I heard the bedroom door creak open. I glanced back to see Ahmad, shirtless, wearing boxer briefs. Fine as fuck with his chains resting against his chest. He stretched like he wasn’t bothered, then leaned against the hallway wall with that cocky smirk I was starting to like too much.
“Everything good, mamas?” he asked, voice deep and still raspy from sleep. “You get lost on the way back?”
Lord, have mercy.
Travis scoffed. “Who the fuck is this, Taelyn?”
Ahmad glanced at him like he was sizing up a problem too small to stress about. “I’m Ahmad, lil’ buddy. Tae’s friend.”
I damn near choked trying not to laugh. Meanwhile, Travis looked at me like he’d just been punched in the gut. “You let him…”
“I let him do everything you were supposed to do and more,” I said with a smile. “And he didn’t have to lie to a whole wife to do it.”
Ahmad walked over casually, BDE dripping, big pressure, and slid his arm around my neck from the side. He kissed my cheek once, slow and firm, then whispered in my ear, “Hurry back. I still owe you another nut.” Then he smacked my ass and walked off all calm and unbothered.
I turned back to the married one and smiled sweetly. “You can keep the flowers. Put them on your wife’s nightstand.”
And with that, I shut the door in Travis’s face. I stood at the door for a second after I closed it, lips pressed together, pulse still jumping from the little scene that just played out. The audacity.
I turned around, finished my banana and water, and tossed the remains. Then, I walked back down the hall and leaned against the doorway to the bedroom. He was stretched out across my bed like he owned it. He had his hands behind his head with one leg up, chest out, and that dick starting to stiffen again in his boxer briefs like it was responding to my energy.
“Handled yo’ lil’ situation?” he asked, eyes half-lidded.
I nodded. “Yep. Sent him back to his wife with blue balls and a bouquet.”
Ahmad smirked. “That’s cold.”
“It’s honest,” I said. “He had a chance. You took it.”
“Nah,” he said, sitting up, arms flexing. “I ain’t take shit. You gave it to me. That’s the difference. Besides, you shouldn’t be out here lettin’ married niggas fuck on you.”
I licked my lips. “Yeah. Just young ones namedthe pussy monster, huh?”
“How young you think I am?”
“If I had to guess… twenty-five.”
He smirked, reaching for me as I climbed onto the bed and straddled him slowly. “Close enough. Twenty-six.”
“Hmm. Five years apart,” I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You handle me well.”
“Built for it.”
“But now I need you clean.”
He raised a brow. “You tryna bathe me?”
“I’m tryna taste you again,” I murmured. “But I want you fresh out of the shower when I do.”
He sat up fully, grabbing my ass in both hands. “Lead the way then.”
We made our way to the bathroom with Ahmad trailing behind me, hands grazing my hips, dick already thick again against my backside. I turned on the water, steam filling the space in seconds, and stepped in after removing my robe and lingerie. I let the heat run over my body while I reached for my body wash. He stepped in behind me, that warm, hard body pressing into mine.
I passed him the loofah. “Wash my back.”
