Page 8 of Kobalt

“Kobe, stop! What’s wrong with you?” Niagara screamed at me.

“Baby, let him go. He’s not worth the trouble. I promise you,” Mama warned in a pleading tone.

I released him until he fell to the ground. Without giving him a second thought, I turned toward my Bentley Continental. “Come on, y’all. Let’s go,” I instructed.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Niagara asked through her sobs.

“I’m fine. Move back now,” he replied to her.

“Let’s go, Nia!” I bellowed.

After they climbed into the car, Niagara asked, “Was that really called for, Kobe? He was trying to make peace.”

“He wasn’t trying to make peace. He wanted something,” I countered.

“Your brother’s right. He only comes around when he wants and needs something, and he’s desperate now. Mark my words,” Mama replied.

“But maybe it’s something he really needs help with. Y’all didn’t give him a chance,” Niagara argued.

“He wasn’t even thinking about you, Nia, so quit riding hard for him. I don’t wanna talk about that nigga. We’re gonna have dinner, I’ll drop y’all off, and I’m heading out,” I explained.

TWO DAYS LATER

The lake water felt cool and refreshing against my skin underneath the warm late summer sun. After dropping my mother and sister off a couple of days ago, I came straight to the one place on Earth I considered my slice of heaven—Magnolia Orchard, my grandmother’s farm.

I had stripped my clothes and jumped into the lake twenty minutes ago, trying to purge the crazy thoughts from my mind that had plagued me since seeing Edward Harden. I needed to focus on my next steps.

Rather than using my mechanical engineering degree for a second career in aerospace—something that was no longer my passion—I decided to listen to Tank, my former coach. He visited the farm a couple of months ago and suggested I start a training camp for MMA fighters. He promised that he would help me get the contracts for teams to train up here, including my old team.

Once the old stable was refurbished, we would install rubber horse stall mats to create training spaces. Those would help with takedowns and foot work. We would also hang heavy bags from the rafters, if they were sturdy enough, and use the land for things like tumbling, grappling sessions, and shadowboxing.

He suggested they could get strength and conditioning through the old tractor tires and feed sacks. He also mentioned that carrying feed buckets, pushing wheelbarrows, and chopping wood would not only assist with conditioning, but would be helpful to me.

Not only was there a lake on the property, but there was a pond as well, and both were useful for post-workout baths. We had chickens for fresh eggs, there was a vegetable garden that the caretaker worked, and nearby farms provided fresh meat. All those things, along with the serene atmosphere, would go a long way to help them recover and rest.

When I grew tired of swimming, I stepped out of the water and noticed a beautiful woman walking toward the lake. She had her head down, and she couldn’t see me around the cut in the lake, but I would recognize her slim frame and beautiful, hazelnut-colored skin anywhere.

She dropped her wrap, and I couldn’t help but appreciate the curves of her hips and ass. My eyes slowly dragged up to those double Ds when she removed her T-shirt and tossed it onto the grass.

Memories of me taking those grapefruits in my mouth, and how she damn near came whenever my tongue worked around her toffee-dipped nipples, flooded my mind. She had added a belly piercing since I last saw her body.

I slowly swam in her direction, but her eyes were closed. When I stepped out of the water, she was lying on a blanket with her eyes closed. When she opened her beautiful chocolate-brown eyes, her thick, arched eyebrows hitched up in surprise to find that I was standing over her—the only woman I ever wanted to claim.

A startled scream emitted from full, round lips until she realized it was me. Her chest heaved as she calmed down.

“Surprised to see you here, beautiful.”

A slight smile lit up her oval-shaped face and exposed the cute overbite I always adored.

“Wha-what are you doing here, Kobalt?” she asked, pulling her hands through her thick brown hair that hung to the top of her bra in chunky waves.

“Do I really have to answer that?”

“You’re right. I’m the one who shouldn’t be here.” She sat up and reached for her T-shirt to cover up.

I kneeled in front of her and gripped the shirt from her hands. “Don’t act like I haven’t seen them before. Like I haven’t sucked, licked, and made love to them. Like you weren’t screaming and cumming just off me sucking your titties.”

“Can you please put some clothes on?” she asked.