by Kenya Wright
Needing some space, I told her, “I’ll be right back. Let me look around.”
I made my way past the velvet rope and crowd of pitiful onlookers. They watched Zola and Trigger sip their champagne on those gaudy thrones as if they were really royalty. And while I could argue that Zola was a queen, Trigger sparked a different debate.
I didn’t even like him so close.
I headed to the bar, not going for a drink, just needing some space from her.
She fogs my head. Why did I think I could do this and stay focused?
The thumping of loud music boomed across Lake of Fire. Most of the women still wore nothing, tempting and teasing. None of them caught my gaze. How could they with Zola so near?
A waitress came over and offered me a drink. “The lady over there wanted to give this to you.”
I smiled and didn’t glance that way. “I’m fine. Please tell her thank you, but that I’m working.”
“She asked me to get your number.”
I shook my head.
Thankfully, she didn’t push it further and moved on with the drink.
My gaze went to Zola as Trigger whispered something in her ear, and she scanned the space around her.
Are you looking for me?
Zola was so tempting. When she strolled in, others turned her way as if she’d cast a spell on the place. Did she have any idea what she did to us? Did she understand the effect she had on me? Already I was breaking rules with my job, distancing myself and not focused on my duties.
My phone buzzed. I checked the screen.
Baptiste: Stark landed.
Me: Good. Anything on forensics?
Baptiste: Odd. Someone poured semen on the bed. Different people’s semen. At least thirty different samples so far. However, when I checked the photos, it only looked like one person had ransacked the place.
Me: I agree. From my review, it was one man that damaged it. Check the sperm banks in the area. See if there was a robbery.
Baptiste: Okay.
You poured yours and others’ semen all over her bed? Why?
Something was odd about it. Maybe he was in the system and didn’t want to be found out. Perhaps he needed his semen on his bed but poured others on there to confuse who it could be.
How did you get a bunch of guys’ semen? What would make you go to such extremes?
A sperm bank was the only thing I could think of. Anything else would be too gruesome, and I didn’t know if I had the head space to deal with that.
I returned my thoughts to Zola as I put up the phone. She sat her sweet ass on that throne.
Damn it. She’s beautiful.
I scanned the crowd, pissed that some man out there was playing sick games and doing his best to scare her. He wanted her to be his, but in the end, she would always be mine.
She was a witch—full of magic. Because since I’d first seen her, I’d been under a spell.
And she’s mine.
Her friend, CiCi came by her and they laughed together. Worry still creased Zola’s eyes, but she kept a soft smile as she sipped her champagne. Surely others felt the supernatural energy around her. Surely, they yearned to burn from her sparks.
I watched how Trigger couldn’t keep his gaze off her. I was sure everyone suspected what I did, that Trigger was somehow in love with Zola.
How long was this fake dating? If Trigger did it, then he probably had one of his friends do the dirty stuff for him.
I counted most of his boys, probably ten of them on the stage. I studied their coked-up faces and how they drooled over everything the rapper said. If Trigger wanted them to jerk off into cups, they’d probably be happy to do it.
I took out my phone and typed.
Me: Look into the rapper Trigger for me. He’s Zola’s ex.
Baptiste: Anything else?
Me: Check his entourage. I’m sure some of them are in the system. There’s got to be DNA or fingerprints that we can use to rule them out.
Baptiste: Got it. I’ll contact you as soon as I have something.
Trigger tilted his head toward her. She turned his way. Their gazes locked. My heart paused for a few seconds, but then the exchange ended abruptly as Zola returned to staring into the crowd. Trigger looked like he wanted more of her attention. It was an intense stare. He waited for several long minutes for her to turn back. Everyone laughed and partied around him. Zola searched for me.
And Trigger watched her with an undeniable yearning.
I gritted my teeth.
And I’m watching you, motherfucker.
Trigger didn’t fit the standard type of stalker. He had enough power and money to bully and emotionally fuck with Zola in other ways. There would be no reason to sneak into her apartment and damage her stuff, getting her all worked up on a fake stalker.
But then, this could’ve been some chess-like ploy to show her that she didn’t have friends. To make her feel like she needed him. Get her scared, desperate, and back into that contract.
The thought had me on my feet, pressing through the sea of bodies around the stage and back to her. One woman tried to grab me by the arm to pull me to her, but I shook out of her grip and continued. When I finally made it back to Zola, I couldn’t stop myself from leaning down to her and smelling the sweetness of her hair.
Why did you confess that to me, Zuzu? Why? Now, I can’t think of anything else.
Part of me yearned to see how much she wanted me too. Already, I could imagine smelling that sweet scent while I pounded my cock into her all night.
Her being next to Trigger aggravated me. I was just now allowing myself to realize that fact. A man like him shouldn’t have been so close. He was a fraud. He had no talent and had tried to bully her into a bullshit relationship. Had it been up to me, I would’ve put my foot dead in the deep crevices of his ass. But I wouldn’t ruin Zola’s career over my rising jealousy.
I inhaled her and stood up.
Trigger caught the movement. I could see it in his eyes that he knew how much I craved her. I glared at him, hoping he’d charge for me.
Give me an excuse, buddy.
Shit like this wasn’t good for my mind. Zola was so important, and her being next to Trigger was driving me crazy. I fisted my hands and tried to bite the anger down. Part of me wanted to knock him out of that chair. The other part yearned to smear my scent all over her—cover her in my cum. Make her smell of me so much that she could never wash it off her skin.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Sliding behind her, my body brushed up against hers, drawing her attention. Those dark, chocolate-brown eyes met mine, and a blush hit her cheeks.
Zola, how did I think I could be around you and keep it all business?
I gazed into her dark eyes, and something passed between us. She still held that sweet innocence about her. It made the animal inside me want to feast. That dark urge roared in my chest, all primal and wild. I yearned to hold her down and ruin her body. Fuck her right in front of everybody. To let everyone know she was mine.
She’d bewitched me.
In these years of security, reading body language had been a skill I’d learned. And Zola looked like she wanted more than a friendly hug from me later this evening. She licked her lips.
Be careful.
In that moment, all I could think of was sinking my cock deep into her soft, wet heat. Going slow, until she moaned. Until I was spent.
If not for CiCi coming up and tapping my arm, I might’ve been lost in her eyes forever.
“Who do you think it is?” CiCi asked.
“Who?” I asked.
“The stalker.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
Why are you asking? Is it you?
Trigger grabbed Zola’s attention and they had a hurried conversation. She appeared annoyed but had it all under control.
CiCi blew out a long breath. “It could be Trigger.”
I turned back to her. “Why?”
“Look
at him.” She gestured at the rapper. “He definitely looks like he’s going crazy being without her.”
I continued to watch her. “Any other guy you can think of?”
“This whole thing has been scaring me. I’ve suspected everyone.”
“That’s the best way to look at it sometimes.” I smiled. “Who else could it be?”
“Alexander is weird about Zola. He’s always telling me to give her space. Doesn’t want me or anyone else around her.”
I checked the stylist. Apparently, he was the head of her styling team. He hired and fired the people that kept Zola beautiful, and he served as assistant manager to her when York couldn’t come through.
CiCi continued, “Rico was weird about her too. I saw his phone once. He had tons of pictures of her, and I could tell she didn’t know he was taking them.”
“Oh yeah?” I made a point to tie Rico up again. “Why were you on his phone?”
She stirred. “I liked Rico, and…well, we kind of messed around, so…he went to the bathroom to take a shower and, I just…picked up his phone.”
“I get it.”
“I have trust issues.”
“Was there anything else besides pictures of Zola?”
“No, but some were of her sleeping, and a few were her coming out of the shower. It was like he took it when the door was ajar.”
Yeah. Rico, I’ll be paying you another visit.
11
Trigger Fingers Turned to Broken Fingers
Zola
Trigger tapped my arm. “Zola?”
I kept back my annoyance, trying to figure out how I’d managed to date him earlier this year. “Yes.”
“Who’s the new guy?” Trigger asked. “What happened to Rico?”
“Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“About what?” I asked.
“If the rumors are true.”
“What rumors?”
“I heard you had a stalker. It was on The Shade Room this afternoon.”
“That blog gossips.”
“They also tell the truth.” Trigger leaned in closer. “So?”
“My team has everything covered.”
“You should let my people get over there.” Trigger did his signature look, raising the side of his lip into a growl. “I rock with strong hitters, baby. Street dudes. They’ll die for me. They’ll die for you, if you fuck with me.”
“Really?” I gestured to his boys as they snorted a line of coke. “I’m good.”
Tomorrow, it would be all over Twitter. Natural Health cigarettes may love or hate the scandal. Only the devil knew which one it would be.
Alexander stepped up to the stage and snapped his fingers. “Okay. After this song ends, it will be time.”
The song played.
Trigger smiled.
I stiffened.
And Hunter leaned down to me and whispered, “Time for what?”
I was speechless for a few seconds. Hunter’s scent encased me. I instantly went back to how it felt hugging him earlier. Clearing my throat, I whispered back to him, “We’re going to dance to Trigger’s new hits. They’ll need some pictures.”
“Are you serious?” Hunter frowned. “The dance is in the contract?”
“Yes.”
Hunter didn’t look excited about the idea of Trigger and I dancing. It could’ve been for safety reasons. It might be hard to guard me on a crowded floor.
Either way, I rose, already done with this night. I’d been up since five in the morning for the damn safari shoot. Later, I discovered my apartment and belongings torn apart which was a true symbol that my stalker was not going anywhere soon.
And that wasn’t even the biggest and most emotionally exhausting part of the day.
Hunter…wants me. He didn’t come to Christmas for all those years because of those feelings? It can’t be that simple. If so, then this is more than lust.
My heart kicked into high gear. I calmed myself. I couldn’t go there just yet.
Hunter was so damaged and had such skewed ideas of love. With my mom, he was a perfect angel, and there was no reason for him to be. Mom loved him because he was him. Anybody who met Hunter was instantly infatuated. Yet, he worked so hard for Mom’s love, when he didn’t have to.
And it was so hard to convince him of that.
The tiny burns on his body was the reason. They were reminders of his past. I’d seen him at the beach as a teen. Even then he had muscles. It was hard not to drool over him. And if one looked long enough, one could see some of the marks on his back, stomach, and arms.
This is going to complicate things.
Now that Hunter had opened the gate, I damn sure was walking through. Maybe he just wanted to fuck me. Perhaps, it was no more than him needing to get it out of his system.
Well…he could sign me up for that too!
Hunter had been the man of my sexual fantasies for years. A taboo. A thing I shouldn’t have even taken there with my libido, but still I did. How could anyone go through puberty with a sex god living in their house, and not masturbate to him a few times.?
Every damn girl in his school loved him. York hated it. Not that York had a problem with getting girls. He just disliked how Hunter took his female bombardments for granted. The girls always came, but Hunter barely talked to anybody and never dated. It was either football, school, or watching me for Mom.
Due to that, Mom spent months convincing Hunter to go to his senior prom. At York’s and his school, there was tradition of the boys doing elaborate things to ask the girls out to the prom.
In Hunter’s case, the girls asked him. He was the hot quarterback that was taller than all the guys, respectful to the teachers in class, yet talked to no one but York and his teammates.
Dark and mysterious always lured hungry hearts.
During his senior year, he spent days bumping into massive surprises. It must’ve been ten elaborate prom proposals. The best one was Sara Parker, who’d tied hundreds of balloons to the trees in front of our house in the middle of the night. The rest of her cheerleading squad had helped. Hunter had left to go to school that morning, and she’d greeted him with a BB gun, which had caught him off guard. Then she asked him to shoot the balloons. He did with no problem, and cards fell to the grounds. Tons and tons of different colored ones all with the same question:
“Will you go to the prom with me?”
Hunter always thanked the girls and appeared super embarrassed by the attention.
On prom night, he went by himself, pretty much shoved out the door by Mom. I helped him get ready—everything from picking out the tuxedo to fixing his crooked necktie. Mom chaperoned. Unofficially, York and I knew she volunteered to watch over Hunter. She reported back that he leaned on the wall and scoped everyone out the whole time.
It should’ve been no shock to her that he went into security later.
“York, Ellen, and you are the only family I have. That’s it. Three people. You think I would change that to nothing...”
Hunter’s philosophy of life was always all or nothing. No one would throw him away just because we had a relationship. Not Mom or York. They loved him too much.
Right?
Nervousness filled me. I wasn’t sure what York and Mom would think if we did mess around. I was starting to see what Hunter was thinking, but not with so much finality.
“Love is rules.”
Hunter was wrong about that. Sure, there would be a reaction from Mom and even my brother. Maybe it would be good. Perhaps, it could cause a little division at first. But it was none of their damn business. What I knew for sure—after being herded around and ordered by executives, photographers, stylists, and everyone else everyday—I didn’t give a fuck about what anyone else would think.
Hunter was worth it.
Back in the club, Trigger mumbled something to me. I’d forgotten he was there, or that the night was about him. I kept glancing back at Hunter, completely hypnotized.
And Hunter wasn’t standing in his spot for too long before a girl in a tight, black body suit swayed his way. She flashed him a sensual smile. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear.
No, sweetheart. He’s taken…kind of.
Seconds later, she frowned and walked off.
And then he returned to looking deadly and dangerous. His every calculated move held precision and was completely controlled.
Now that he’d come back into my life and confessed his feelings to me, we would have to deal with it. And deep inside, I yearned to deal with him.
I tasted it on my tongue.
Well, that’s one reason to thank the stalker. He brought Hunter and I back together.
The song ended.
Okay. It’s showtime.
Clearing his throat, Trigger rose and held out his hand. I rose. Cameras flashed. I glanced over my shoulder. A glare covered Hunter’s face. He’d already appeared not to be enjoying himself.
Trigger moved his arm to the center of my back. Hunter’s view turned to that. He moved fast and headed over.
What?
Before I realized what he was doing, Hunter knocked Trigger’s hand off my back. More cameras flashed. Trigger’s men glared at Hunter.
That’ll be viral tomorrow.
“Yo, what the fuck, man?” Trigger roared.
Hunter got to his side. “The contract doesn’t include touching.”
Trigger pointed at him. “Motherfucker, you don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“We’re fine, Hunter.” I stepped between them. “We should dance, Trigger. I’m exhausted and have to go soon.”
His coked-up boys surrounded us.
Trigger grinned at Hunter.
Hunter grinned back, and it didn’t appear friendly. If anything, it was a certain threat of death.
Trigger inched away. My heart boomed in my ears. Trigger was a douchebag, but he didn’t deserve what Hunter would do to him.
I took control and grabbed Trigger’s arm. “One dance and then I leave.”
Trigger wasn’t having it. “That’s not what the contract—”
Hunter interrupted, “She’s trying to save you from dying tonight. Take it.”
Thankfully, the DJ started Trigger’s song, and he could save face by shifting his attention to the dance floor. But, in the end, I knew Trigger turned away because he saw the dark promise in Hunter’s eyes.