Page 292 of Kentrell

“Kentrell…” I breathed his name like a prayer, like a promise, like a full surrender, as his fingers worked slow, lazy, delicious circles around my clit.

He groaned in my ear, low and deep, sending a vibration straight through my chest, down my spine, and between my thighs. My nipples hardened. My stomach clenched. My pussycontracted like it already knew what was coming… just as he fingered me to that?—

“ZOE?!”

My eyes flew open and I screamed.

“Mars?!” I shrieked, scrambling upright in bed, my heart thumping and confusion clouding every corner of my still-foggy brain.

She stood over me, hands on her hips, naked as the day she was born, her wild curls standing up like a lion’s mane after a storm. Skin glowing, eyes dark with mischief.

“What the hell did we just do?” I panicked, clutching the blanket to my chest, stomach twisting in knots.

Mars laughed… slow… devilish… licking her lips like she had all the answers and none of the shame. “We?” She dragged the word out on purpose. “Weain’t do shit.”

I blinked. Looked around. Finally realized where I was. Her guest room. Downtown. Not Kentrell’s place. Not Caldwell Manor. Not even my brownstone.

I exhaled, dragging a hand across my face just as she smirked and leaned against the doorframe.

“For the record…” she said, crossing her arms, “…I just finished my morning yoga flow. Namaste and all that shit. But mid-downward dog, I hear somebody in here moaning…”

I froze.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah.Loud.” She pitched her voice up and gave a dramatic reenactment. “‘Kentrell… ooooh… yesss… right there…’”

My cheeks went up in flames. “You did not hear that.”

“Zoe… you were in here straight moaning his name like you were on somebody’s OnlyFans live.” She burst out laughing, slapping her thigh. “So I come in here thinking somethingwrong… and what do I find?You.Laid up. Hand in lil Miss Muffin… just a rubba-dub-dubbin’.”

I gasped and immediately dropped my gaze to my right hand hanging at my side. I rubbed my fingertips together.

Still wet.

Oh my God…

Mars let out a full holler. “OoooohhhIknewthat nigga put it down when I seen him! He had you yelling out in yo own home—Yessss, this is your pussy—oooh, shit, yes, oooh-oooh-oooh-oooh—Kentrell—oh—wait—mmm—yes—I—love—mmm—smack it!” She reminded me, again, of the first time me and Kentrell ever did it. “Knew it! That quiet, slow-bop-dick-hanging-to-the-side-reaching-the-middle-of-his-thigh ass walk, too-smooth-for-everybody big dick energy? Yes. I said he was packing, didn’t I? Didn’t I, Zoe?!”

I’ve been crashing at Mars’ place for the past week.

Not because I loved her two-bedroom condo or her terrible dick-and-pussy-shaped throw pillows, but because it felt like the safest option. Kentrell knew Shemar… which meant Stacia’s condo wasn’t off-limits if he ever got desperate enough to come looking for me. And Ayesha? She lived right around the corner from my brownstone. Too close. Too obvious.

My own house was still under construction anyway—what was left of it. The fire had eaten through the back of my upstairs, left the walls raw and gutted… like how I’d been feeling inside. The contractors said it wouldn’t be ready until spring. Maybe longer with the holidays coming up.

Another reason I couldn’t go back.

That and…him.

It’s been a week.

Seven full days since I’ve seen or spoken to Kentrell. A week since I walked out of Caldwell Manor with my heart in my throat and my pride barely intact. And as much as I’ve tried to tellmyself I’m done—that this is over—that I deserve better… my chest still tightens every time my phone lights up, hoping it’s him.

It never is.

And now… just to add to the circus that’s become my life… my so-calledfood poisoninghad decided to make a dramatic comeback. Same nausea. Same random headaches. Same late-night runs to the bathroom. Mars had been side-eyeing me for days… dropping little hints every time I so much as blinked too long.

“You know stress’ll do that to you… or something else,”she said this morning while I was doubled over on her bathroom floor.

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