Torch wasn’t playing when she said that she would make me into a new woman. Not only did she do my hair, but she did my makeup and taught me how to change my looks, including my eye and cheek structure with makeup. After cutting my long, brown hair into a pixie cut, she dyed it a deep, cherry red. She taught me how to apply eyelashes and accentuate my already full lips.
I turn away from the mirror and head downstairs to cook dinner. I’ve spent most of the day napping because it’s been storming all day, and I’ve been bored and all alone. Chaos left early this morning, and I haven’t heard from him since.
It’s a little after six now, and I’m hoping that I can finish cooking before he returns. Hopefully he will be in the mood to talk, since he hasn’t been very talkative since I opened up to him last week. Giving him my body and my heart was a mistake that I couldn’t afford. If Ben ever finds out, that will be the end of us. I don’t see a future with Chaos, no matter how I feel about him, and no matter our history together. The MC is his family, and there’s no room for anyone else.
Ever since then, he’s been distant and shunning me every chance he gets. He spends more time away from the apartment than he does at it. I’ve been begging for him to take me with him, but he refuses to, saying that he’s got work to do. Even when I suggested that he leave me at the clubhouse with the other ladies, he said that wouldn’t work, because they’re not always there.
I found that I really enjoyed talking with Torch, Kyte, Ember, Bell, and Juicy. They are so down-to-earth and hilarious. They welcomed me and made me feel like I’ve known them all my life. Talking with them almost felt like talking with Chrishanna.
I have just pulled a chicken and rice casserole from the oven when I hear the beeping of the keypad that unlocks the apartment. There is a code to get in and out, and I haven’t been successful enough to figure it out.
Chaos inputs the code into an app on his phone that is linked to the building’s security system. Therefore, I haven’t had any luck in seeing what the code is.
I set the casserole dish on the counter and rush to the door.
“Any luck finding out who’s behind Emmanuel’s assault?” I ask Chaos the minute that he walks through the door.
He has allowed me to move around the apartment more freely now, but I haven’t been interested in making a grand escape anyway. Knowing that someone is after me and that my child is out of town somewhere that I have no idea where, makes me want to be in one central location where Chaos can find me if necessary.
He eyes me closely as he steps through the door and then shakes his head. He locks the door before he moves past me dismissively, and he appears annoyed.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Uhm, I made us some dinner.”
“Mm.”
He heads upstairs, and I remain at the bottom listening, to figure out what he’s doing. His boots thump against the floor one at a time before I hear him moving around. The bathroom door closes, and after several minutes, I assume he’s taking a shower.
I glance back at the meal that I’ve prepared for us and then the stairwell. I’m not sure if I should wait for him to eat or eat alone. Then again, I’m not hungry right now, so I head up the stairs to the bathroom.
As I assumed, he is taking a shower, and the bathroom is steamed up. I quickly slip out of my T-shirt dress and panties and grab the chrome handle to pull the shower door aside. He doesn’t turn around or even acknowledge my presence when I slip inside with him.
His eyes are closed, and with one hand, he’s massaging his dick. I press my hands against his wet back, and he tenses underneath my touch, but I don’t move.
I remain where I am and gently massage his back muscles. The sight of him masturbating turns me on. His veined, tattooed hands slowly stroke his rigid, thick dick. I lick my lips as I drag my fingers over the swell of my breasts.
My nipples are hard, and my core aches, wanting him to fill me up. More than anything, I want to taste him again. I want him to hit the back of my throat as he fucks my face. I want to be on my knees in front of him while he grabs my hair and slams his hips against my mouth.
I bide my time because more than anything, I want Chaos to open up to me again and let me in. I don’t like feeling like I’m the enemy, and the way that he’s shoved me out over this last week feels exactly like that.
He never told me why he left all those years ago, and I have no idea what I did to piss him off so badly that he acts like he can’t stand me now. He can’t continue using the excuse that I had his kid without telling him. Should I have gone to Priest to make him aware? Yeah, but I didn’t think that he deserved it, not when he couldn’t even tell me goodbye. Besides, I didn’t know Priest like that. I had only met him a few times.
The night that he left, he visited his mother and his twin. He told them he was about to dip out of town for a while, but he didn’t tell them that he was leaving the country. He also didn’t tell them that he would be gone for five years, but worse than that, he never reached out to me. I didn’t get a visit, a phone call, a text message, a letter, or even a DM.
I am the one who has every right to be angry, not him. Yet, here I am, standing in his shower, watching him stroke his dick with his back to me.
He turns around and rests his back against the shower wall. He slides his hand down his shaft and pulls his balls with his other hand. He does it repeatedly, and his dick seems to grow increasingly angry to the point of weeping. The water raining down from the shower head behind him does little to hide the precum that beads the tip of his dick.
As he tilts his head back, he looks so damn delicious with the water streaming over his head. His smooth mahogany skin glistens with moisture, and I want to lick every part of him.
“You don’t have to do that alone.”
My voice comes out like a tiny plea, but it doesn’t break his concentration. Jealousy fills me as I wonder who he’s thinking about while he’s masturbating. I hope it isn’t one of those bitches from the clubhouse. What do they call them? Sweetbutts?
I’m willing to bet there’s nothing sweet about their asses at all. I guess I would rather it be one of them than some other woman, a woman who might be worth falling in love with.
