“Turn around. I want to fuck you from behind.” What he really wanted was not to look Ashlee in her eyes, or start conjuring feelings for her.
“No, Darius. I want you to look at me,” Ashlee said, lying missionary style on the comforter.
Climbing on top of Ashlee, Darius raised her pelvis to his hips, penetrating his head inside a pussy. “Aw, you feel so good.” Not knowing when he’d have sex again, he stoked her long, deep, and slow, pretending he didn’t know her. “Your pussy is so warm, ah, so sweet, and damn so tight.”
Ashlee whispered, “Your pussy. This is your pussy, Darius. Only yours.”
The hell it is. Closing his eyes, Darius leaned his head back and pressed his dick as deep as he could inside her. Then he pulled out and commanded, “Turn over.”
This time Ashlee didn’t refuse. Reentering her from behind, Darius pounded his dick. Quick. Fast. Hard. Faster. Harder. “Aw, shit!” His hips smacked against her ass, which turned redder and redder. “Aw, shit! Cum with Daddy. Cum with me, La-dee—cum with me, damn it!” he yelled, slapping her ass hard so she’d be too busy cumming to question him, almost calling her Fancy’s nickname.
Ashlee collapsed into the bed. “When was the last time you got some?”
“You a trip. You don’t wanna know the answer to that,” Darius said, shaking his heads. With his pants around his ankles, he took baby steps, entering the bathroom. Darius snapped off the condom, held it over the toilet, then threw up. “What the hell?” His stomach tightened. “Shit! Man, what kind of pussy was that? Is this payback? Fuck!” he yelled, bellowing champagne and particles from the partially digested tablets into the white porcelain bowl.
“Damn, I shouldn’t have taken those tablets on an empty stomach.” Darius’s body weakened as he flushed the last of what he’d regurgitated.
Running warm water in the sink, Darius rinsed his mouth, splashed water on his face, dipped his dick, lathered, rinsed, quickly dried himself off, then exited into the bedroom before Ashlee thought of some more devious shit to do to him.
Darius pulled up his pants, stretched across the bed on his back, and laid Ashlee’s head on his chest.
“I want you to get rid of her,” Ashlee sleepily said.
When would she give up? Rolling his eyes under his lids, Darius felt slightly better but awfully nauseated. “It’s not that simple.” he kissed Ashlee’s forehead.
“It was when you got rid of me.”
“Give me some time. I’ve got a lotta things going on right now,” Darius said, stroking Ashlee’s hair. When she didn’t respond, he looked down. Ashlee had fallen asleep. Snooorrreee, lightly whistled from her lips.
Easing from underneath Ashlee, Darius gently placed a pillow under her head. Digging in his pocket, he tossed five hundred dollars on the table, then quickly scribbled a note that read Take a taxi back to your SUV and never contact me again. Darius quietly fumbled through Ashlee’s tote, removed all of her keys—except the rental car key. He took the family photo of them together, and then tiptoed out of the hotel room.
Some women never knew when to quit.
CHAPTER 7
Darius
“Oh, wee! A brotha’s feelin’ kinda nice,” Darius said, holding his dick while waiting for the elevator. Mentally he’d willed himself back to health, focusing on the good stuff. “Come on, man before she wakes up.”
Press. Press. Press.
Ding!
“It’s about time.” Darius touched the L button, admiring his handsome smiling face in the mirror.
The doors opened. “Oh, shit!” Lowering his head, Darius turned his face away from the registration desk. “That nosy chick is still working.”
“Bye, Mr. Williams. It was my pleasure having you. Do come again,” she said, laughing, returning to her conversation with her coworker. All Darius heard was, “Girrlll, let me tell you about him.”
How in the fuck was she going to tell somebody about him when all she knew was what she’d read in the newspaper? Women like her were the reason Darius didn’t share his dick with groupies. Retrieving his car from the valet attendant, he proceeded to his original destination before he had been abruptly sidetracked by Ashlee. He’d watch the videos recorded by his hidden cameras of her roaming throughout his house later. No, on second thought, he wouldn’t. Ashlee wasn’t worth him spending that much time tracing her steps, but he’d have every single lock in his home changed immediately. Now that he had her keys to his house and her house, Ashlee would never trespass on his property again.
Darius drove along the freeway, lowered his window, tossed out Ashlee’s keys. She had no reason to see him again. None. Fucking Ashlee took a dead weight off his shoulders and his dick. Finally, Slugger was momentarily satisfied. In or out of the bedroom, Ashlee didn’t compare to Fancy. Ashlee was his best friend and stepsister since they were kids, so conceivably they might never stop loving one another, but Darius wouldn’t marry Ashlee if she were the only pussy on his jock. Yeah, he was spoiled but whose fault was that?
Reflecting on his upbringing, Darius thought his childhood was better than most kids’. His mom, Jada Diamond Tanner, was a self-made millionaire all of his life, making him a millionaire the second he was conceived. There was nothing that Darius wanted, didn’t have, couldn’t get, including women. But like most children, he’d taken his mother for granted. That she’d always be there for him no matter what he’d done. This time he’d committed the unthinkable, unimaginable, unbelievable. If God delivered him once, He shouldn’t have to deliver him again. He could. But would He?
Powering on his cell phone, Darius listened to his messages. “Darius, call me—” Darius deleted the call when he heard Fancy inhale. “Darius, you bastard! Where the fuck are my keys!” Ashlee yelled. Darius turned off his phone, tossing it into the passenger seat. Women. His passion. Their problem.
Darius’s time had come to grow up and become a man. A real man. This time was different because he actually wanted to do the right thing—things. If not now…when? Tired of hurting people, he questioned his purpose in life, rotating the ignition key counterclockwise, silencing his engine. The music continued playing.
“It’s so good, loving somebody, when that somebody loves you back.”
Who did he honestly love? Feeling his eyebrows draw into a uni-brow, Darius listened to the lyrics while staring at her front door. He did love her. But not more than she loved him. Love was never fifty, fifty. But ninety, ten? That was below friendship level. Well, he had to confront her at some point, so Darius slowly opened his car door.
Thump.
The tan leather sole of his left shoe greeted the dark asphalt. The cool California before sunrise breeze invaded his cheeks, numbing his spirit. Los Angeles could be a cold place any time of the day or night.
Thump.
Or was his numbness the result of his eternal internal pain?
Thump.
A woman could make a man both numb and cold. The black leather square-toed shoes resounded up the driveway, stopping side by side at their destination. Fearful, Darius stood facing her solid oak double doors. In his deepest moment of needing her, why did she have to need him?
The palm of his hand covered his nose, his not knowing which was colder, sliding to his lips, then over his chin, casually flopping along his side. His full lips disappeared into his mouth. Tears swelled; he clenched his bottom lip between his perfect teeth, preventing the outpouring of depression drowning his heart.
Good looks didn’t mean shit when he felt like shit on the inside. His chest tightened as he prayed the bad news he’d received from Ashlee wasn’t true. Why didn’t he demand more information from her at the hotel? His right foot crossed over his