“You’re lying,” she replies woodenly, shaking her head with terror drawn in her eyes.
“Ask him.” My voice is cold and ruthless, but at this moment, I’m beyond caring, and I no longer want to hide the truth from her. She needs to know everything.
“You’re lying!” She shouts, grabbing me around the neck and trying to choke me.
I level my gaze on her, steel my shoulders, and tilt my head back, giving her complete access to me. For some reason, this shit turns me on more. My dick is getting harder, stretching her, and making a comfortable fit inside of her walls.
“You’re lying!” She shouts again, and I only thrust up harder.
My movements grow more furious until she stops choking me and plants her hands on my chest. She rides the hell out of my dick until she cums all down my shaft, and I explode inside of her. Crazy as that shit is, it feels so good too. I guess there really is a thin line between love and hate, because Charisma and I just walked a very thin line between some crazy, toxic shit.
“Come back here, Charisma, and take these handcuffs off me,” I demand when she climbs off and walks toward the door.
“No.”
“Fine. You won’t be talking to CJ tonight, and God only knows when I’ll let you see him again.”
I’ve got a lock on my phone, and she can’t reach Chrishanna or anyone else. My keys are locked in the lockbox, and she doesn’t know the code to get out of the apartment. The only thing she can do is sit here and let me grow angrier by the minute, and that won’t be good for her at all.
She turns around, and with very heavy footsteps, she walks back to me and releases me.
“Fuck you, Chaos.”
“Yeah, that was some pretty intense fucking, wasn’t it, sweetheart?” I ask, kissing her forehead and striding to the bathroom to shower.
“It’s my birthday, and every ho up in dis bitch ’bout to get a mouthful of nut tonight!” Blue shouts at the top of his lungs.
I tilt my bottle to my lips and look around the bar. Everyone’s having a good time tonight, but I miss Charisma. After all we went through last night, I decided to give Charisma and me some space today.
After my shower, I told her how her li’l boyfriend was linked to my disappearance. It scared her, but I told her that she didn’t have shit to worry about under my protection.
Delite and Spank walk up to my table, and Delite plops in my lap. “What’s up, daddy?” she asks.
“Nothing, li’l mama.” I wrap my arm around her waist.
“He’s married these days,” Spanks states.
“Not quite,” I reply.
I see someone in the mirror over the bar walking in. Everything about that nigga looks out of place in here with his expensive ass three-piece suit, Italian loafers, three-hundred-dollar haircut, facial, and manicure.
What the hell did Charisma ever see in that nigga? Couldn’t protect her to save his life or hers if he had to.
I drink my beer as that bitch-made nigga scans the bar.
“You’re tense, Chaos. What’s up?” Delite asks.
“You see that nigga that’s approaching us from behind? When he approaches us, Spank, give him some attention. Delite, record whatever the fuck Spank is about to do.”
“Okay,” Delite replies as Senator Benjamin Starling stops in front of us.
I glance at the table across from us where Champagne and Wildflower are entertaining one of the brothers. I give him a nod, he whispers to them, and they jump up and flank the senator, draping themselves all over him.
“I’m not surprised to find you here. You’ve got a beautiful woman on your hands, and you’re hanging with a bunch of whores,” he states as Spank lowers to her knees.
He tries to push Champagne and Wildflower away, but they’re charming and persuasive, and he resorts to ignoring them instead.
Spank bats her eyes. “Why don’t you let me take some of the stress off, Senator? It won’t cost a thing.”
