“This is gonna be awkward.”
“This is gonna be fun,” I countered when I finally slid inside of her.
“Ohhh, shit, Ashton. You’re right.”
“And if nothing else, li’l mama, we’re about to heat this sack up.”
I rocked deep up into her, and she tightened her legs around me as she shifted up. I pressed her hair back from her forehead, sucked on her sweet lips, and ground against her. She was wet, tight, and hot. Sliding inside of Chanel was like sliding against wet silk.
We had discussed our sexual history after the first time we were together without protection. She admitted that it was a bit wild of her not to consider protection, especially with me being a married baller with allegations of infidelity hanging around.
But after we shared our status, we had no further questions or concerns. I knew that she wasn’t worried about getting pregnant, but we discussed the possibility anyway.
Chanel slid her hands underneath my down jacket, shirt, and T-shirt until she was able to drag her nails across my back. I thrust into her harder in the tight confines of the sleeping bag. Our grunted groans and huffs sounded very primal in the wild. We may have been in my backyard, but we were in the mountains, and we weren’t too far from nature.
Bears had been known to travel down around my cabin in the spring and summer. I made sure to put all food away and secure our trash containers. But I wasn’t about to tell her little ass that, not when her pussy felt so good wrapped tightly around me like a protective wrapper.
“Oh, damn. Oh, shit. Oh, Asssshhh!” she screamed as she leaked all around me.
It seemed the louder she wailed, the more turned on she became, which turned me on. I shot wild all inside of her, and it felt good to do that and not worry about having a child. Everything about Chanel just felt good to my soul. She was the healing balm I needed after years of pain and sorrow.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Ashton. Where are you?”
Amélie wasn’t a worrier by nature. If you asked anyone who knew her, they would swear she always had things under control. But I could hear the worry in her voice, and I knew that something wasn’t right. I wasn’t sure what it was or if I needed to worry or not.
“You know I’m not telling you that, Amé. What’s up?”
“Can you at least tell me if you’re driving or sitting down?”
“I’m sitting on my ass chilling and watching TV. Now what’s up?” I grumbled. Chanel was sitting beside me on the couch in my master suite. We were watching a comedy show, and she had her arm behind me on the couch as she twirled one of my braidsaround her finger. Yesterday, she refused to go back outside after spending the prior night camping. Instead, we spent the day inside with her braiding my hair, once I realized that she could braid.
She had made some lame joke about exchanging services, my pedicures for her braiding services. We both decided if the sports industry didn’t work out, we could always open a salon where I did pedicures, and she braided. We thought we had a real shot at it.
“There’s been an accident, Ash.”
“What happened?”
She sighed. “Zoe. She uhm, had a car accident tonight on a back road, but the police don’t believe it’s an accident.”
I sat up. “Is she okay?”
“We don’t know. She’s in ICU at New Mercy,” she stated, referring to a hospital in Atlanta.
“Shit. What was she doing in Atlanta?”
“Visiting her parents. Ash, she was beaten badly before the accident. They were able to see her on cameras not too far from a restaurant she had met with some friends at, and she was beaten with a bat. She ran from her attacker, and while she did escape and made it to her car, it seems they chased after her and ran her off the road. They don’t think this was a random incident, but that she was a target.”
“Gahdamn!”
“What? Is everything okay?” Chanel asked, sitting up and staring at me.
I held my finger up and shook my head.
“Who is that, Ash?” Amélie asked.
“I’ll have Shaniece send flowers and a card. I can head up there in the morning.”
