His knees buckle, sending him to the ground. He raises his hands in the air, blubbering like a bitch.
“Don’t make me come back, you understand?”
“I swear to God, I won’t.”
I watch him for a minute, feeling my anger rise up like lava before I erupt in a blind rage, striking a blow across the back of his head with the butt of my gun.
There’s a sickening thud followed by a strangled groan as Sisco’s body juts forward, collapsing against his car.
“Happy holidays, fuck nigga.” I stare at him in disgust as I back away, only moving my gaze when my hand is on my door.
Back inside the car, I fall into the driver’s seat and go to pull the mask off, but Raya grabs my arm before I can.
“Leave it on.”
My eyes meet hers, and even in the dark, I can see the sparkle in them, the glint of arousal. She reaches over me, pressing the button to move my seat back. I smile inside the mask, knowing exactly what’s coming.
She goes to her knees in front of me, and I let my head fall back against the headrest. My dick hardens as she slowly pulls my zipper down, her dainty little fingers brushing my erection, probably on purpose, probably to tease me. She has me in her hands, now. My third favorite place to be. Her tongue snakes out, swirling around the tip.
I suck a slow, sizzling breath through my teeth as she takes me into her mouth and tries her hardest to suck the motherfucking skin off my dick.
Fuck. Her mouth is so warm and wet. And the way she sucks me, like she's desperate to taste my nut, like she's dying to feel it slide down her throat—that shit makes my fucking toes curl. My wife is the fucking GOAT.
It doesn't take me long to give her what she wants.
After, the windows are fogged, the moonlight hazy. I stare at the out of the sunroof as my chest heaves, wondering what’s next. I never know with her, which is part of the fun. And the torture.
I just assaulted a nigga on her behalf, but I guess I shouldn't complain. I killed her fucking daddy a few months ago, so this is actually progress that we're making here.
She rests her head on my thigh, her breathing steady again. I stroke her hair lovingly, because that’s how I feel. I just committed a crime, but I did it for her, and for the little girl in her who needed protection. Fuck everybody in her life who failed on the job. They’re the reason she’s broken.
But at the same time, I feel lowkey triumphant, because I just discovered something about my wife that I hadn’t expected. Something about her little mission here, the way she wanted to protect that kid, how fierce she was about it, makes me think she’ll be a good mother. It’s in her. I saw it. I felt it.
That was a concern for me before, I’ll admit. But now…I smile at the possibilities.
10
Raya
Ace drives like he always does when I’m in the car. He’s steady, attentive, one hand on the wheel, the other on my thigh, only going about five miles over the speed limit. My protective king.
“Jovan’s cool,” he’s saying. “He's loud, but he's harmless. Bron has more of a dry sense of humor. Dayton’s the peacemaker.”
“Mm hm.”
“If anybody jokes a little too much, probably Titus, they don’t mean it. We just clown like that.”
“I know.”
“If the wedding comes up—“
I grab his hand and squeeze.
“Ace,” I say gently, “I don’t need you to brief me on your friends. I know how humans behave.”
He glances at me quickly, then back to the road. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be condescending.”
“You weren’t.”
