“Then drink with me. I have a feeling she’s going to be out for a while.” Inari passed him the bottle and slid down the door frame.
She sat right there, knees bent, holding her shot glass between her legs. Kong twisted the cap to the bottle and tipped it to his lips.
“What’s going to happen with those other girls?” she wondered.
“I don’t know. Some of them were young. State custody, or some group home. I talked to Bee about it. She’s going to use her contacts to look into things. Help out if she can. No telling how long some of them were there.” Kong leaned against the doorway and studied Ayla as she slept.
He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about everything she’d endured. Isolated. Pregnant. Delivering their child and not knowing what happened to him. All that was cruel enough, so he had to wonder what else Mira did to her. If that bitch wasn’t already bits and pieces in the river, he would have loved to torture the shit out of her for what she did. Swallowing another shot of liquor, his murderous thoughts drifted to Justin. He’d gotten off easy. At the end of the day, Kong was ready to wipe this situation to the furthest corner of his mind and focus on what was ahead.
“She’s going to be fine,” Inari said, cutting into his thoughts with her eyes also on her sister. “She’s a fighter. Clearly. No matter what happened, Ayla is going to come out on the other side of this. We’re going to make sure of that. I owe her and my parents that.”
Mira’s last words echoed once again, haunting him. He would have to run that by Audiemar if he wanted answers. Something about the way she said it and how smug she was let Kong know there was some truth to whatever she thought she knew. Why would she waste her last breath telling him otherwise?
Coast had been restless. With a paint palette in her hand, she used her arm to swipe the little sweat beads that had gathered at her forehead while gripping her paintbrush. She wasn’t surewhat the piece in front of her was supposed to represent. It was chaotic, with colors all over the place in a design even she couldn’t describe, aside from it being abstract. She’d finally gotten Iara down, and even though she knew she should be trying to sleep with her and Mozzi, she couldn’t. Soft lofi music played in the background, and she tipped her head to the side to study the work.
“I like it.” Her husband’s sexy voice acknowledged from the doorway.
Swinging her head in his direction, she looked him over in his joggers with no shirt, arms tucked across his chiseled, tatted chest while studying her. He had gotten home only a few hours ago, showered, snuggled with her and Iara, claiming he was just putting her to bed and ended up snoozing with her. Coast watched them sleep, but too much tossing and turning pulled her out of bed.
“I don’t even know what it is.” She released a stressed breath.
“Ain’t that the beauty of art? It’s up for perception.” Mozzi strolled into the room, and Coast turned back to her canvas.
“I tried to sleep. I couldn’t.” She dropped her paint pallet and brush onto the stool in front of it and sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Frustrated, she brought her hands against her face and growled lowly.
“You spent the last year carrying a baby, mama.” His hands fell on her hips, admiring her frame in her boy shorts and one of his white button up shirts that hung on her like a dress. “Give yourself some grace. You got plenty of time to become all the shit you want to be,” he added, coming up behind her.
Coast’s eyes shut slowly, and she absorbed his touch. She felt bad because she’d been so moody and not giving her husband due credit. He did everything for her and Iara, and she knew she’d never be able to repay him.
“You don’t owe me nothing but the best of you, Trouble,” he said in her ear like he knew what she was thinking.
“How is it you can be so good to me and so brazen with everyone else?”
“You my wife.” Mozzi kissed her neck. “You bring out the best in me.”
“I love you, Moses Hale-Blackmoor.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he questioned before a pause. “I feel that shit every time you look at me. I know with Rara, and the wedding, all that fuck shit in between, you going through enough. I’m not trying to add to none of that. You just gotta tell me what you need.”
“Right now, I need you.” She draped her arms across his shoulders and stood on her toes.
“Say fucking less.” Mozzi stood and scooped her off the ground before slinging her over his shoulder.
Coast squealed and he carried her out of the room, slapping her round rump. Instead of going back into the bedroom where Iara slept, he carried Coast down the hall to the game room. Flipping her off his shoulder, he placed her on the cool leather sofa and positioned himself between her legs. With his upper body pressed against her, he took her mouth hostage and eased his tongue inside.
“Mmm.” Coast moaned against his lips, engaging in the exchange, arms caressing his abs until she reached the growing snake between his legs.
Mozzi yanked at her panties, pulling them down and sitting up on his knees to assist. Once he had them around her ankles, he slung them over his shoulder and admired her pretty, glistening lower lips. After having their daughter, he loved every inch of her even more. He thought the little pudge in her stomach was sexy, along with the tiger stripes across her thighs. Reaching out, Mozzi grabbed her thigh and pinched it beforekneeling in front of her and flattening his tongue against her wet center.
“Shit!” Coast bit into her bottom lip, surrendering her head to the couch cushions.
Mozzi circled her pearl, taking his time applying pressure, then releasing. He swirled his tongue in different directions, with Coast clawing at the couch, trying to run from him. Grabbing both legs, he lifted them in the air and onto his shoulders. He’d never been a pussy eating nigga, but Coast tasted like honey, and she was addictive. She was used to waking up with him between her legs just because some nights, and he would drift right back off. With his thumb against her nub, he applied pressure and licked her at the same time. Coast’s stomach tightened, and Mozzi sucked every drip of her sweet sauce. Licking along her lips one final time, he sat up and grabbed his dick to stroke.
Holding her legs by the ankles, he positioned the head of his dick right at her opening. He didn’t enter right away. Instead, he tapped at the entrance a few times before pushing into her tight, gushy walls. Mozzi winced from the grip of her pussy. His eyes lit up when he pulled back and saw how wet she was on his dick.
“Gahdamn, Trouble.” He growled, using the couch for support when he dived back in and let his man pulse inside her.
His hard thrusts sent Coast spiraling with pleasure. Every tap at her love button made her wetter. Groaning from the deepest parts of him, Mozzi buried himself as deep inside her as she would allow.
