Page 22 of The Perfect Verse
“I’m sorry. Just, just?—”
“Just what, Chaney?” He pulled out, flipped her over, then slapped her ass. “Arch that fucking back.”
If she didn’t know anything else, she knew this nigga knew how to fuck. He lined up his thickly curved, eight-inch dick and plunged inside of her. Chaney knew the verdict if he tried to leave, and unlike Kaleela, that bullet wouldn’t have missed. Just when she was about to cum, he pulled out and commenced to fucking her lower hole with his tongue while he had three digits inside of her pussy.
Chaney was lightheaded, damn near blind, and she’d be blind as long as he’d still have her. That was when she knew what she had with Kaleela wasn’t love. It was lust and the need to feel important, because who didn’t know Kaleela “K Smooth” Bradshaw? She’d only been pining over her since she was a wild sixteen-year-old, in love with the life she saw her live with The Crew. Not with Donovan, though. Even if he had nothing, she’d still choose him.
He smacked her ass, and she yelped. He grinned, seeing the reddened handprint on her ass cheek. He was so addicted. He licked her skin before he sat up and dipped back inside of her.
“Next time, come in here like you got some fucking sense,” he commanded, both hands pressed on each side of her waist. Her ass checks jiggled, damn near hypnotizing him at the sight of them.
“I’m cumming, baby. Shit.”
“Good.” He grunted, feeling her walls contract. He was right behind her when his balls tightened before he released his seed, praying maybe, just maybe, his reckless act would forever keep them connected.
She looked over her shoulder, panting, and rolled her eyes.
“I know, but fuck that. Let’s go clean up and come back out here like civilized motherfuckers.” When he spoke, especially after the good dick he gave her, she listened.
“Fine,” she conceded with a pout. “But I want answers, Donovan, and not the shit you’ve been feeding me.”
She rolled over, then followed him to the bathroom. Since she’d managed to stay a night or two throughout the week, she had a few toiletries underneath the sink. She’d go without panties because, at this point, she was too tired to sit around him and his friends. Once they were done, and she’d slipped into one of his large shirts he kept there in the drawer, he tapped the bed, motioning for her to sit.
“I’m sorry. That was fucked up how I came at you.”
“You think?” He laughed with a hiked brow since she was never the first to apologize about anything, even when she was wrong. “And you threatened to kill my ass, or was that because of the dick?”
“Both are true, but I won’t lie. It feels like what I left. I can’t do that anymore, but old habits are so hard to break.”
“I ain’t her.”
He scoffed. He’d already heard some shit about his cousin and Chaney’s ex. Until Scooter brought it to him, though, he’d sit on it. Mango couldn’t help herself, but it wasn’t intentional. Shehad no clue the “bad bitch in the wheelchair” was the same one who tried to kill him. He felt somewhat betrayed, but until he got all the answers, he would sit back and let it play out. If Kaleela was trying to get to him through his cousin, he’d beat her to it, and unlike her, he wouldn’t miss.
“I know. When I feel a way, I just react. I was wrong for how I came at you, but not about why I did. You’re my first true love, Donovan. It’s scary but a beautiful thing. Like you have power over me.”
He wasn’t sure about the “first love” part, but he felt the same about her having power over him. He could be having a fucked up day, and with one call, her voice brightened it. Scooter said she was like a muse, his anecdote. He said once she showed up or called, his lyrics flowed better, sounded more authentic, too. He agreed, but there were days like that one that made him feel she wasn’t all his. She wasn’thisChaney. She was Kaleela’s girl, and he wasn’t fucking with it at all.
“Why you think that first fucking single was about you?” She grinned, lowering her eyes as he pinched her cheek. “You do all that to me, every word. My goal is to always find a way to show you I’m riding for you.”
“Does she know that, though?”
“Shay?” He frowned. “I don’t give a fuck about what she knows. I do know she understands that what me and her had is over. Ain’t no coming back.”
“Promise?”
“Hell yeah, and perception is a motherfucker. I slipped on that, and honestly, I could have taken that bread to her granny myself. I won’t lie, if she ever needs anything from me, baby, I’m on it. That woman opened her doors for me, fed me, and even lied to the police for me. I can’t turn my back on her. That’s not the kind of nigga I am. Shooting her bread is the least I can do. Fuck her granddaughter, and I mean that shit.”
“Tell that reject Red Robin Hood motherfucker that. Hoe waved at me like I’m the fucking side of coleslaw and not the whole meal,” she spat with slitted orbs. “She should never feel that comfortable. Like I’m some side bitch.”
“A side bitch?” His nose lifted like he smelled something foul.
He loved Chaney, but as of late, he noticed her insecurities ran deep. He could reassure her, but only so much. The rest of the work was work she had to put in for herself.
“I treat you like one? Hell, if anything, I should feel like the side bitch,” he countered. “When I call you, sometimes, it’ll be hours before you even call me back. Or how about when I come by the shop, and your girls can’t tell me where you’re at? Do I call you, assuming shit, or do I let you get at me when you can?”
“Ugh, it’s not the same.” She shook her head, wondering if they moved too fast. She and Kaleela had no contact, but she couldn’t say the same for him and his ex or her family.
“Maybe we should just?—”
