Page 2 of Free to Fall

I knew I wasn’t thinking straight because I would have never put myself in this situation if I had been. Nasseem and I were like oil and water. We had no business doing what we were doing. We had no business being in this position with each other. But once I had a hit of him, like a fiend, I couldn’t stop. So, I walked over to him like the good girl I planned to be for him but only in this room. I wanted him to use my body in whatever way he wanted to and needed to, his pleasure was going to be my pleasure, like always.

"You are so fucking beautiful." He whispered standing up from his seat and pulling me close to him. His hand covering my waist caused me to shudder. He turned me so that my back was to the bed, yet he still stood in front of me. His fingers traced my skin from my face, down my neck, my collarbone and finally my nipples. A slight moan escaped my lips as I shut my eyes. "Open your eyes beautiful and don’t take them off me again, you understand?"

"Ye--yes." I nodded. He placed his lips against mine pecking at them before tracing his tongue along the same route his fingers had just explored. He paid attention to each nipple, and I tried hard not to close my eyes in ecstasy, but it was so damn hard. The pleasure that was emanating from my body was almost overwhelming, but this was the reaction my body always seemed to have for him.

As he sucked and licked my nipples, he pushed me to the bed. I felt my pussy getting wetter and wetter and even more still, when his fingers found their way down my lace panties beforemassaging my hardened bud. Another moan filled the air, this time louder than the last.

"Soaking wet, just like I like it." He groaned quickening the pace of his fingers and then spreading my folds sticking his fingers inside of me. He continued to lick and suck my nipples paying equal attention to both of them while finger fucking me into oblivion. I wrapped my arms around him gyrating my hips to the motion of his fingers enjoying the pleasure he was delivering to me until a familiar flutter filled my belly and all of a sudden, I was moaning loudly for my release and all of my juices flowed out of me. He paused his movements long enough for my body to stop trembling, long enough for me to come down from my high.

Fucking, at a warehouse full of fancy furniture and other people fucking just outside of these doors. How did I get here? What was I doing here, with this man?

"I thought I said to keep your eyes on me." He said his lips close to mine. I watched him as he pulled his fingers out of me before putting them in his mouth and licking them. "Who knew chocolate could taste so good." I could have died in this moment in bliss. Everything I had been worrying about had been forgotten. One thing about Nasseem, he was fucking nasty, and I loved every moment of it.

I watched him as he undressed taking off his t-shirt, his chain, sliding out of his black jeans, and his boxer briefs. I stared at the thick, long monster as he stroked himself before coming towards me. I licked my lips as the thought of tasting him crossed my mind, but he had other plans for me.

He spread my legs and ran the tip of his dick up and down my slit, causing those same flutters to manifest inside of me. Again, more juices flowed, more than I'd ever expected. He bent down and kissed me, and in the middle of our tongues wrestling with one another I felt him enter me, filling me to the core.

"Shit." I gasped but he quieted me with more kisses before gyrating his hips and stroking me slowly. The further apart he spread my legs the deeper inside of me he went all while going from kissing my lips to suckling my nipples, thumbing the one he didn’t have in his mouth. The pleasure was soothing to my body, keeping me from thinking straight, keeping me from thinking about my stresses which was exactly what I needed. Having this man inside of me was a delightful distraction, one I needed more than anything in this world.

Those same familiar flutters crept in my stomach before I released not one, not two, but at least three more times. After nearly an hour of straight pleasure, we'd both succumbed to our releases, and we collapsed on the bed in pools of sweat. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed; it seemed like an entire millennium, since the first bit of pleasure fell upon my body.

Silence surrounded us as we both attempted to catch the little bit of breath that we could. My chest pounded first with excitement and then with fear of what the hell I had just done. I had sex with Nasseem again, after promising myself that the last time was the last time. I let this man defile my body time and time again and a huge part of me enjoyed every moment of it.

His breathing was slow and even now. Always the same. Every time after—it doesn’t matter how explosive, how intense, how damn near otherworldly it feels—Nasseem would fall asleep like he was at peace. Like nothing about this arrangement bothered him in the slightest.

And me? I laid in the bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling like it had answers. The room was still dim, flickering candlelight dancing across the walls. My skin was still warm, my pulse still unsteady. But I felt that same little sting I always did once the fire fades.

Regret. Not for the sex. That’s never the problem. It’s the aftermath. The silence. The emotional fog. The reminder thatI’m doing something dangerous. I glanced over at him eyes closed, at peace, and I hated him for it.

He was sprawled on the bed like some kind of fallen god. The sheet rides low on his waist, exposing abs that rippled when he breathes. His skin, deep and rich like warm molasses, glowed under the soft amber light. His jawline’s sharp enough to cut glass. His lashes long and thick, resting peacefully against those cheekbones. He’s beautiful. Undeniably, unfairly, and dangerously so. And that’s the problem.

He’s everything I don’t need. Everything I’ve fought hard to avoid. A man who grew up hard like me, was guarded like me, and had built walls like mine. Nasseem knew how to touch me in ways no one ever had—and still made me feel like I was balancing on the edge of a cliff. This was supposed to be a secret, a safe release, a controlled fire. Now, I don’t know what the hell it is anymore.

I sat up slowly, careful not to wake him. He stirred just a little, then went still again. Of course. He hardly ever woke up after. Which is why it was so easy for me to always dip like nothing happened. I slipped out of bed and searched for my black dress and heels. My clutch was where I’d left it, sitting neatly on the chair beside the door. I moved quietly, practiced in this routine. No goodbyes. No lingering. I left him there, looking peaceful—same as always.

By the timethe sun broke over the hills, I was back in front of the cameras. Heavy lights. Long hours. Fake blood. Witches, curses, and scripts I had half-memorized in my sleep. We were filming the last few episodes ofThe Coven, and even though theshow had been a hit, I was ready to let it go, ready to pivot into something real, something mine.

But today, I was barely holding it together. We were in the makeup trailer when Serenity eyed me through the mirror. Her naturally curly hair was perfectly styled, curls bouncing like normal, her dark brown eyes were sharp and observant as always.

“You good, Egypt?” she asked, raising a brow. “You look exhausted.”

Before I could answer, Averi chimed in, lounging in the chair beside me with a brow pencil in hand. “Facts. And don’t say it was a late studio night—because I was at that session, and we left early. Your idea, might I add.”

I swallowed a sip of green juice and gave them both a dry look. “Maybe I just couldn’t sleep.”

Serenity smirked, eyes narrowing. “Or maybe you had company last night that kept you up all night.”

I rolled my eyes. “Y’all need to mind your business and worry about remembering your lines.”

Averi snorted. “I know my lines. What I don’t know is who had you dipping out early like you were on a mission.”

I brushed it off, but my silence made it worse. They were too intuitive, too close. That was the problem with being friends with somebody for over ten years and having lived together at one point in time as well; we all knew each other like the back of our hands. Fortunately for me, we were called to set before they could press any further.

The scenes we were scheduled to shoot today were intense—me, Serenity, and Averi’s characters are gathered around a spell circle, dealing with betrayal, heartbreak, and the kind of emotion that usually only hits off-camera. Funny how close fiction and reality could get sometimes.

We wrapped by late afternoon; everyone was exhausted but in good spirits. There were hugs, makeup wipes, wardrobe being returned; the crew was already talking about the wrap party. But I had work to do and no time to sit around and join the conversations.

I pulledinto the lot at LA Records, sunglasses low on my face, hoodie up. The lobby receptionist barely looked up before waving me through with a small nod.

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