“Cum for a god, baby.”
He brushed his nose against mine as his eyes slowly closed. I wondered whether he saw himself as my husband or saw us as I did. The hope was that he did because I wanted this shit forever.
Up, then down.
The bang on the door didn’t stop us. “Dio, nigga, Jesaiah is coming!” one of the guys who was outside watching the door shouted.
Dio... he didn’t stop. He kept going. “Cum for me, Samara. I’m not stopping until you do,” he muttered.
Up, then down.
My head fell back as I blocked out the noise and enjoyed the dick Dio was serving. My body tingled and my legs tightened around his waist, while my nails dug into his neck.
Eyes on him.
He blessed me with his crooked smile. He nodded, and so did I. “That’s right. Cum, baby. Cum for a nigga,” he kept talking.
I sucked in a deep breath as I held my scream while my body released its beautiful love onto the man who held my heart. “Good girl.” He kissed my nose.
He put me down, then turned to the sink to clean himself up as I did the same. We didn’t say anything to each other, yet we stared at each other in the mirror. Neither one of us wanted to say goodbye. I backed up until I was in one of the stalls, then closed and locked the door.
I heard Dio open the door and Jesaiah screaming at him. “Fuck you in here doing, Slime? Who in here?” he yelled.
“I took a shit, Big Brother Dean God’s Gift!” he yelled.
There was a moment of silence. Then I heard the few stalls’ doors slamming open and closed. My heartbeat picked up. My legs shook as I stood on the two metal bars. Jesaiah banged on the door. “Who in here?” he shouted.
That was when I heard Beans’ deep voice. “Ayo, let’s slide!” he yelled. “Get these Slimes together.”
When I heard the restroom door close, I let out a sigh of relief.
“Fuck!” I mumbled.
I got down and peeked through the crack. The restroom looked empty, and I came out. As I was walking out of the restroom, someone was coming in. When I saw who it was, I swallowed deep. Ihurried out of the restroom to see people leaving. The game had to be over. I pulled out my phone to call Paige to see where she was. When she didn’t answer, I followed the crowd outside the building. I needed to find her and fast. If Beans was a part of this frat, I needed him to call his boys off Dio because the way Jesaiah looked at me when he walked back into that restroom, I knew shit wasn’t good for Dio.
XAVIER
PRESSPLAY
When the game ended, I was anxious to get out of the locker room. The coach wanted to have an extended talk about how we almost lost the game when my mind was on Phoebe and that nigga. If I could have thrown a chair at his ass, I would have, but the ball was all I had. The moment the coach dismissed us, I got up from the bench and headed out of the locker room. I was angry and felt played. After opening up to Phoebe, I thought we had something strong. I felt like we bonded enough that we didn't have to go through this shit. However, because it was the same nigga she told me she fucked while we were fucking, any trust I had in her was gone.
By the time I got outside, the parking lot was damn near empty. My eyes scanned the few people and cars that lingered. That was when I spotted her and that nigga talking. I hobbled toward them. Maybe I should have walked away, but I wanted her to know that she had fucked up, but this time, I was good on her ass. I also wanted that nigga to see me and know that not an inch of fear lived in this vessel. The fear died when my mother did. I’d never been a nigga whothought he could beat everybody’s ass, but I also never let a nigga know if he could.
As I grew closer to them, he looked up and saw me. He held a shitty-ass grin on his face. “The man who used to be a star. Xavier muhfuckin Keyton!” he shouted while he clapped.
I wasn’t surprised he knew who I was. Despite whether I had a boot on my foot, the fact remained, I had game. Phoebe’s face wore a look of shame as the guy continued to talk.
“This yo nigga, Phoebe? Huh!?” I shouted at her.
She came toward me, trying to touch me, but I shoved her hand away. I wasn’t with the consoling shit right now. “Baby, it’s—”
He looked at her. “Baby? Since when did we start doing that? The Phoebe I know isn’t with that type of shit.”
She turned to him. “Syior, I just wasn’t with that type of shit with you. Please stop!” she shouted before she turned to me. “Xavier, I fucking swear.”
Syior came closer to me. The nigga stood in front of me and looked me up and down before he looked at Phoebe. “Phoebe, I think he’s too soft for you. This nigga can’t handle a fragile girl like you. This nigga can’t handle the freaky-ass, imbalanced, imperfect piece of pussy that—”
I hit his ass. “Say it again, nigga!” I barked.
