Page 238 of Kentrell

I didn’t waste time.

My hands slid up, tugging his long-sleeve shirt over his head like it was offending me by being in the way. My lips chased after bare skin—pressing kisses to his chest, trailing lower until?—

“Oh my God!” I gasped, my heart jumping to my throat.

I froze, staring at the bandage across the side of his chest.

“Are you okay?” Panic rose fast and unfiltered. I was halfway trying to scramble off him when his hands shot out, locking around my waist, keeping me exactly where he wanted me—sitting right on top of him.

“Kentrell—stop. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that?—”

But he didn’t say a word. Just sighed like I was exhausting him—in that sweet, put-up-with-you kind of way.

And with zero drama, he peeled at the corner of the surgical adhesive, pulling slow until it lifted enough for him to slide the gauze out.

My breath hitched again… but this time for an entirely different reason.

There.

Right over his heart.

In bold, dark ink… was my name.

My stomach dipped so hard it felt like freefall.

“Kentrell…” I whispered, the tears stinging my eyes before I could even fight them off.

“Why you cryin’ so much today?” He tilted my chin up, forcing my watery eyes to meet his.

I shrugged, laughing through the tears as he smirked, clearly amused with himself and my emotional wreck of a state.

“I’m just… emotional,” I sniffled, giggling even as my lip trembled again.

That pulled a full laugh out of him.

“You put my name…” I started, still dazed.

“Tattooed your name across my heart,” he said, voice low and cocky, his grin full of mischief and pride.

And just like that… Beyoncé’s bridge fromSweet Dreamsstarted playing on loop in my head.

Before I could stop myself, I rolled my hips—popped my ass—like the song was blasting in surround sound.

Kentrell’s eyes darkened instantly.

I felt him grow underneath me… thick and ready, his jeans doing nothing to hide it.

His hands tightened around my waist, moving me… grinding me down on him, making me moan as he laughed low in my ear.

“You gon’ throw it like that on me?” he breathed, dragging my hips harder against him until I felt the full length of him straining through the denim.

“Yes—” I tried to get it out, but before I could even finish, he flipped me onto my back and then over onto my stomach in one fast, dizzying motion.

Giggling like a fool, I barely had time to react before he yanked the oversized shirt I was wearing—hisshirt—clean over my head and tossed it somewhere behind us.

My panties? Gone with one rough tug.

I heard his belt unfasten. His zipper lower. The sound of denim sliding down his legs as the bed dipped beneath his weight.

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