Momma would definitely notice the damage in the resin. I sniggered.
Not caring at the moment if we got caught or not, I went to him. He spread his legs to accommodate me. He pulled me to him. His hands went to my hips.
“Kiss me, Eden.” He ordered. I hated kissing him after he’d been smoking but I did anyway. I always found it hard to say no to King. I leaned in, pressed my lips to his. He kissed me back, slow and soft at first. Then he kicked it up a notch. He ran his tongue against the seam of my lips, coaxing me to open for him, when I did, he delved into my mouth. It was a sloppy, nasty kiss, all teeth and tongue and lips. He pulled my arms to rest around his neck. I got lost in. He made me forget I was mad. I felt weightless, and seamless. My clit throbbed, my panties were soaked and clinging to my wet pussy.
I moaned into his mouth. God, I love kissing him. I tried to climb onto his lap. He pulled away. “Please, I want to feel you,” I whined. I would have risked it all in that moment, just to ride his dick.
His hand came up to clasp my chin, harshly.
“What do you have on, Eden?” He didn’t raise his voice, but his demeaning tone caused the haze his kisses had me in to slip away, like fog clearing.
“Clothes?” I answered, confused.
He reached in between us, took my hard nipple between his two fingers and squeezed until it ached. I hissed and snatched away. My hackles rose.
His jaw tightened. He set his mouth in a firm line as his grip on my face tightened.
“These are not clothes. I can see your fucking tits through this thin ass shirt and where’s your bra? Who are you dressed like this for?”
I glanced downed at myself. “Excuse me?” I was wearing a white T-shirt and gym shorts, what I usually wore around the house.
He had to be joking.
I went to snatch away, but he pulled me down onto his lap, trapping me. He arms were like twin vises wrapped around my waist.
“Let me go.” I hissed at him from between gritted teeth.
“I will, if you’re going to go change your fucking clothes.”
“No. I’m not. I’m not a child and you should stop treating me like one.”
“They talk about you,” he said.
“Who?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.
“My father and his associates. They talk about how your ass and titties are always on display. They talk about how hard and in which positions they would fuck you. Do you know how that makes me feel, to have to listen to that when I can’t say anything?”
I glared at him. I couldn’t believe he thought I would care.
“Ooh, so what you’re telling me is… is some old men are talking about fucking a woman half their age. That’s so unusual.” I rolled my eyes and waved him off.
“Nothing you said means I would allow them to touch me or that I should change my clothes.”
“You want them to look, don’t you? You crave attention like a spoiled child.” He accused, but then to add insult to injury he said, “a child dressed like a whore.”
My mouth dropped open. His ass had lost his mind. “Stop acting like my fucking daddy, King. You aren’t. As a matter of fact, you’re nothing to me, so go fuck yourself.” I said, purely out of anger.
“Eden,” he said my name in a flat tone that warned me I was pushing him too far. I didn’t care. My momma had just told me she would not be paying for me to move to Georgia to attend Spellman like she had promised. He knew something was wrong. Instead of asking me what he could do to help, he wanted to bitch about my clothes. He was infuriating.
I snatched away from the hold he had on me. I pushed myself up from his lap.
His jaw tensed.
“Go change, Eden.” His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“No, Ashford. You don’t get to tell me what to do or what to wear.”
He put the knuckles of his fist to the table and rested his weight on them as he leaned in. “I can tell you whatever I damn well please, Eden. You are mine.”
It took me a moment to process what he’d said.
I scoffed.” The whole “you’re mine” thing is getting out of hand.” It was only cute when he was fucking me. Ignoring him, I made my way to the kitchen counter. I snatched up my purse and keys.
“Where are you going, Eden?”
“Out, Ashford. “I snapped.
“No, you’re not. “He stared with his lips drawn in a thin line, disapproval was written all over his face, but I couldn’t care less. I stared right back, our gazes held, both of us challenging each other.
When he stood, I didn’t make a run for the door because I knew he could easily catch me.
“Mom, James.” I smirked as I yelled for both our parents. They both came into the kitchen at the same time. My momma gave me that look that Black Momma’s give you, the one that says, “you better not start no shit, girl.” She was too busy glaring at me to notice the tension in the room or the fact that her husband was staring at my tits. “I’m going to the park to jog.” I didn’t wait for anyone to respond. I didn’t need their permission. I just needed them in the kitchen so King couldn’t stop me from leaving.
When I got to my car, I started it up. As soon as I backed out of the driveway, I called the one person I knew would be there for me, Ellis. He answered on the first ring. He agreed to meet me even though I hadn’t answered hardly any of his calls in weeks.
I told him to meet me at the park down the street.
Ellis pulled up not long after I did. Soon as I opened my door the balmy Florida heat hit me right in the face. It wasn’t even June yet and it felt like mid-summer. I got out of my car and made my way to his side. His blue eyes were glued my thighs the entire time. He was obsessed with burying his head between them and wrenching multiple orgasms from me and I was obsessed with him doing it. I low-key felt guilty that I had given King my virginity instead of him.
He got out, made his way around the car. Ellis was huge with a thick neck, muscular thighs and big broad shoulders. He looked like a whole Viking, with his long blond hair and ice blue eyes. The khakis and white polo he wore made me roll my eyes. They fit his personality to a fucking tee. Ellis was the type of white boy that the term, “white privilege” was made for. He was from old money; drove an expensive car no eighteen-year-old boy should have, and his future was set. He could go to any Ivy league school he wanted to even though he was graduating forty-second out of a class of one hundred.
Despite all that, I liked him. But in the way a little girl likes her new puppy. As fucked up as it sounds, he was too easy for me. I wanted drama and passion.
His thin bottom lip was trapped between his teeth when I reached him. I walked into his outstretched arms. He leaned down to meet my height and tried to kiss me. I turned my face in time for him to miss my lips. His kiss landed on my cheek. I didn’t feel right about kissing him on the mouth when minutes earlier I’d been kissing King.
I nudged his head back, rose to my tip toes and pressed a soft kiss against his Adam’s apple, eliciting a groan from him. His big hands gripped my waist, massaging the soft flesh. I nipped at his chin and a groan I could feel reverberate throughout my body tore from his throat. He was so easy to please. Why couldn’t I have the same chemistry with him that I had with Ashford? I liked his kisses and personality. I even wanted to fuck him. But there was something about him that kept me from going all in, even before King was in the picture. Or maybe it was my own fucked up issues that kept me from being with him.