Page 152 of Kentrell

THIRTEEN

KENTRELL

She said twenty minutes.

It’d been twenty-six.

I wasn’t mad. Just… restless.

I sat on the edge of the low leather couch, closest to the fireplace, one arm draped along the back cushion, a half-glass of that overpriced wine in my other hand. The heat from the flames danced across my skin, but it didn’t compare to what she left me with before she disappeared down the hall.

All that damn sweetness—and then,“I need to give you my surprise to balance out the scales.”

What the hell that even mean?

I’d been trying to figure it out for the past twenty-something minutes.

Zoe wasn’t the type to do shit just to do it. Everything with her had layers. Meaning. Intent.

So whatever she was planning, it wasn’t just about lingerie or some cute little show. It was gon’ be deliberate. Made to hit somewhere deeper than just my dick—and I knew that, because she alreadyhadme.

All the way in.

The music played low from the speaker she found on the end table—something sultry with no lyrics. Just bass, strings, and the kind of mood that makes you shift in your seat if you’re sitting alone.

Which I was.

For now.

I took another sip, leaned back, and exhaled slow.

Then I heard her door open.

Footsteps. Slow. Bare against the heated floors.

I turned my head—but didn’t get up.

I wanted to see her come to me.

And the second she stepped out of that shadowed hallway…

My jaw locked up.

Damn.

Sex Roomby Ludacris started playing.

The beat dropped low and dirty, and my whole body tensed with it.

Right on cue, she stepped into the room—and I swear, every damn thought in my head scattered.

She wasn’t just bad.

She wasunreal.

Hair cascading down her back in soft waves, lips glossed, eyes low like she already knew what kind of damage she was doing. But it was the fit that had me stuck.

That pink-lace catsuit from K-Reese.

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