by Love Belvin
Walking with his head low and shoulders seemingly heavy, he finally asked, “What’s up, McNabb?”
His voice was thick, hardly inspired—but friendly. This Ashton was being friendly, at least.
I perked up, swallowing a deep breath behind him. Where did I start? It had been the longest day since seeing Samantha earlier in our room.
We turned another corner and finally entered a dark room where Ashton had to key in numbers to get access. When Ashton hit a few lights, I realized it was a bathroom with an open, big ass shower and a lounge area across from it. He kept the room’s lighting low and dropped his clothes on the marble countertop of the vanity. Feeling weird, I dumped myself on a fancy padded bench and tried to find my words.
“I think Samantha’s mad at me.” Ashton didn’t respond, didn’t even look at me as he began to strip off his clothes. “She found your condom wrapper and your jacket and asked me about it earlier. She ain’t been around lately, and I thought it was because she’s been with her girls. But…” I hesitated, thinking. “…now I’m wondering if it’s because she knows what’s been going on between us—you and me.”
Ashton tossed his dirty clothes into a laundry string bag he pulled from one of the drawers. It had his initials on it. “What’s going on between you and me?” he muttered.
I swallowed, forehead tightening. “You know.”
He sauntered into the open shower, ass tight and legs long and hairy. “We’re friends.”
Huhn?
Water began to sprinkle down from the ceiling then he turned another knob, and more shot from a side faucet. When he moved out of the way of the stream, I guessed to wait for the water to warm, I saw a big purple bruise on the left side of his lower back. Ashton was hurt.
Hurt and so damn…sexy…
Most people I knew spoke that way about guys or girls they thought were attractive, so I didn’t think it was crazy for me to feel that way about the tall, muscular guy before me. It was just wrong for me to think it. But I couldn’t help it. Ashton was…beautiful. His back was wide with muscle definition, and his ass was a shade lighter than his back and thighs. Why did that make my nipples tingle? My mouth was extra moist and pulse raced. The guy wasn’t paying me a bit of attention and I was going horn dog over him.
I turned my head in shame, frustration crashing over me. I came to give him the heads up, and now I was back to the feels with this guy. It was annoying, the shit the body could do over nothing. I’d seen Ashton naked before. Why was I feeling crazy like this between my legs as though this was the first time?
“Take off your jacket and shoes and come here, McNabb.”
My head snapped up. Ashton was rinsing suds from his head and body. Without thinking, I obeyed. My jacket was tossed on the bench and sneakers were kicked in the middle of the floor. My socks absorbed the water right away, making my steps heavier. I tried moving around the ceiling water flow and went to his side, tapping his shoulder to let him know I’d arrived.
Ashton’s eyes opened, droplets of water falling from his curled lashes. He pulled me in front of him and kissed me soft and slow at first. He wouldn’t touch me, but his mouth said and did it all. I melted into his mouth easily, wanting to ask about his bruise. I knew the Panthers had won, but maybe I could have been a better friend if I’d asked about the game. How could I be a better friend to a person who made me feel like this?
He pulled back, out of breath and studying my face. I hoped he couldn’t see how raw in the moment I was. How I’d do anything for him. By the way his fingers rubbed my lips then pushed beyond my teeth and brushed over my tongue, I think Ashton did. I let him. Not only did I let him, but I liked it. He angled his head as his fingers began to pump into my mouth. Ashton wanted me to suck them, so I did. My pussy clenched so hard as I watched him watch me suck on his fingers like they were his dick.
“I missed you…” he growled.
Next, I felt it. His cock poked my stomach as he stroked in the same rhythm he did his fingers. My eyes closed at the embarrassment of how horny I was without him trying. Then his other palm curled over my shoulder with a pressure that directed me to a ‘Lil’ Kim eagle’ position in a dangerously familiar way. If our eyes weren’t locked, reminding me I was being seduced by Ashton, my bully, and not being molested by a monster, this could have been a traumatic event. But it wasn’t. I knew who I was with and what I wanted to do.
The fat head of his cock hit my chin and I dipped my head, taking him into my mouth. His dick was long, velvet over steel. I could smell the scent of his soap in his soaked pubes as my tongue circled the lip of his head. I took his balls in one hand while stroking the base of him with the other. Ashton’s head disappeared over his shoulders when it swung backward. I loved it. His thighs shaking around me, abs flexing over my head. It kind of scared me how much Ashton was into my head game. The cool, all-American, hella-popular, walking BSU pamphlet, Ashton Spencer, liked something that used to repulse me.
“KaTor—”
His face strained and eyes closed. Legs spread wide, he was deep-throating me hard and fast. I had to relax my tongue and angle my head to let him in. My lips tightened like a ring around his thick muscle and I released his balls to swing free. Only one other time did my body react to going down on a man. Only once before did it make me horny.
Ashton…
Seconds later, he was jerking and trying to pronounce my name between cries of pleasure.
I tapped the crust of the last slice of Margherita pizza I finished off like ten minutes ago as I watched him on another call. We’d been back from the athletic compound long enough for him to order the pizza, change into basketball shorts, eat, and make a gazillion calls. I’d showered after shedding the clothes he loaned me from the locker room because most of mine had gotten wet in the shower. I was able to wash, condition, and blow dry my hair—god, being like this with Ashton had me doing my hair more than ever before in my life—and eat.
I was now annoyed and sleepy. I sat with my leg propped up on the kitchen chair I was in, the other swinging over the floor as I halfway listened to his conversation. Ashton had called to confirm his mother’s Christmas cruise, returned calls about a photoshoot happening soon, had a long ass bossy human chat with someone about remodeling his new bedroom back home, and now he was speaking to his mother before she left for her holiday vacation.
“A’ight, Ms. Wanda, you behave.” He laughed at something she said. “You know it. Love you.”
When he hung up with her, Ashton dropped his head between his shoulders while sitting on the couch in the living room. Almost like he did a mental countdown, he stood on a hard exhale and sauntered over to me. He pulled me to my feet by my arm. Upset, I went along with it.
Ashton positioned himself behind me, motioning for me to walk. “Why are you over here shooting me rocks like that?”
His hands were on the curve of my hips, his soft, warm mouth against my neck as we walked toward his bedroom.
“You do know you didn’t ask me to come see you tonight. Right?”
“Yup.” He kissed me again.
“In the bathroom, at the athletic complex, I told you what happened with Samantha.”
“Yup.” Another kiss landed on my neck, this time with a suck.
I rolled my eyes. “And you ain’t got nothing to say.”
We made it to his room and he slapped my ass when separating from me. I threw myself on the bed, debating on staying in my dorm tonight instead of here.
“I’m not your girlfriend, Ashton. You said we’re friends. If that’s the case, you’re a shitty one for not, at least, listening.”
His brows shot up. “I’m a shitty friend?”
“Yes. You. The great Ashton ‘Prince of Zamunda’ Spencer is a shitty friend. I come to you with a problem with my real friend and you…”
“What?” His head fell to the side. “I what?”
“You shove your dick down my throat. That’s what you did!” I would not admit how I
liked it because I didn’t want to kill my argument. “That was a shitty thing to do, especially because the problem is about you.” Ashton moved to his closet, where he bent over to pull out a bag. “If you wouldn’t have left the condom wrapper behind, I wouldn’t be feeling like the only real friend I have on this campus don’t wanna fuck with me no more because I can’t tell her who used the condom on me.”
Ashton’s upper torso whipped my way. “I used it on you? Or used it when you told me to come suit it and boot it?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a damn song.” It was actually lyrics to Brielle’s latest radio smasher when she tells her thug boo to come with rubbers, but leave his boots on when he fucks her. Ashton knew that. “And that ain’t the point. She’s my friend, Ashton. I don’t wanna upset her.”
“Since when did you give a shit about what someone thinks of you? You damn sure don’t give a fuck what my friends think about you.”
“Because your friends are fucked up humans. When they’re cool, I always care what people think of me.”
He rubbed his face, eyes reddening from exhaustion. “Nah. Sounds to me she’s judging you for fuckin’ around with me. That ain’t cool coming from a friend.”
“All she wants is for me to be real with her, but I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because…fucking you makes me lose mad cool points! Not only will I lose a real one, but I’ll be the outcast. The whore to her friends, like Karmen!”
I saw him flinch. It wasn’t fast, and he didn’t try to play it off. My words got to him, and instantly, I felt like shit. I didn’t mean it like that. But why couldn’t I say it?
Ashton grabbed his Blackberry from the nightstand where it was charging. He tapped it a few times, clearly looking for something. When he handed it over to me, I thought he was crazy. But still, I took it. Seconds into reading it, my eyes went wild. They jumped across the screen to see who the players were in the exchange I was reading.
Oh, my…
Dre: Yo, this broad just blew my damn mind.
Dre: Yoooo!! Where the fuck you at bruh? Samantha just begged me to fuck her ass tonight! You think her young ass ready for that shit?
Dre: I ain’t tryna get caught up with shawty like that bruh. Damn!
Dre: You ain’t hitting me up so fuck it. Chocolate banana pop it is.
This was two days ago.
Samantha went from being a virgin to wanting anal sex in a matter of weeks, all without me knowing?
I licked my lips, my mind spinning like crazy. “You never…” I swallowed hard, feeling horrible. “You never said anything back.”
“Because what Dre does with anybody ain’t my fuckin’ business. Just like what I do with you ain’t nobody’s fuckin’ business.”
Then he tossed a plastic bag he’d pulled from the closet near me on the bed. It was half full with folded papers. Impatient, he dug inside for one on yellow paper to open and handed it over to me.
My eyes rolled from the paper that I could now clearly see was a handwritten letter.
Hey you…
I hear you’re back on the market. Did the weirdo we all know as Tori ever tell you I want to work out with you? That’s not all I want tho. I want that dick. Don’t laugh. Hit me up so we can talk about it. Maybe I can be a better running partner. Fuck that. I KNOW I can. I swallow.
Lyricah xo
My head jerked back as a sensation shot through my belly. Then my crazy ass plucked another letter from the bag. Fuck! It was from Karmen. Karmen as in ‘Aivery’s mini-me’ Karmen.
When I heard you close her door this morning I wanted to talk to you before you left. It would have been weird. Last night would have been even weirder. I know it’s fucked up but she doesn’t deserve you. Aiv’s selfish and stuck in her ways. I just don’t want to come off as a hating bitch. Can we finally talk?
Karm
My head swung up. Ashton’s face was hard, jaw twitching he was so mad. But I didn’t care.
“Why—” I couldn’t even form a damn question.
“A third of them in here is by her, but there are mad girls in the bag.” He walked the bag and letters back to the closet. “Another lesson, other people have mad shit in their closet. Why do you think what we have is so fucked up?” he barked in a way I’d never seen him. “What’re we doing here, Tori, if I’m such a fucked up ‘human’ to you?”
“I didn’t say—”
“You say it all the time, Tori, and it’s starting to get fuckin’ annoying to me.”
“All I said was I didn’t want Saman—”
“Or Karmen knowin’ that we’re friends who fuck. Yeah, well, as you now know, Samantha’s fantasy is being fucked in the ass. Did she share that with you, since y’all so tight?” I didn’t even know Samantha had lost her virginity. And to a corny guy like Dre? She never told me they were even…serious.
“The question you need to be asking is if she knew her girl, Lyricah, wanted my dick when she was having you ask me about running with us in the mornings, because I sure the fuck did. That girl’s been wanting me since she got here. Don’t let the breakup between Aivery and me fool you. She ain’t noble. None of them are. And then Karmen Bingham?” He dropped his chin. “You care about what someone who can’t fuckin’ spell loyalty, much less give it thinks of you? If I was a different type of nigga, I could tell you some shit that’ll have you feeling more loyal to Aivery’s ass than you do now since ‘fucking’ me. ‘Cause it’s clear to me, we damn sure ain’t friends like I thought.”
Stephan appeared in the doorway, forehead stretched with concern. “Y’all good in here?”
I’d forgotten he was here for a moment because he never was around. I guessed since it was the end of the semester, his field work was done. Right now, seeing two beefy, shirtless guys around me made me realize how quickly this thing had escalated.
“Yeah, man. We’re all good,” Ashton answered. “Just being put in my place.”
The eye he gave me when walking out of the room confused the hell out of me. Ashton seemed offended, and I didn’t understand why.
Coming out of my last class of the semester, just finishing my final, Aivery was the last person I expected to see waiting. She leaned on a pillar, arms crossed, and so were her tall, high heeled boots reaching her knees. She rocked a camel wool coat and sunglasses, looking every part of an actress, on set, ready to shoot a scene. The scowl she sported was once cute, but right now, it irritated the shit out of me.
“What it do?”
Aivery stood straight, ready to walk alongside me, “I came to ask you the same?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been strange lately.”
Here we go with the bullshit…
“How so?”
“I don’t know?” When I caught her head shrug, I saw people eyeing us together and could read their questions and false perceptions. “You haven’t been hanging out with us like you used to.”
“I think you know why.” I hadn’t spoken to her since leaving her dorm after knocking Pettiford the fuck out.
“But it’s more than that.” She turned to face me, cutting my path. “This is bigger than you being immature about my relationship with a family-friend. Get the hell over yourself, Ashton.” She stepped closer to me and lowered her volume, “You failed Independent Study?”
My eyes fell. How the fuck did she hear about it? I had a meeting with my team in a few minutes because apparently, word had been spreading amongst the staff.
“I don’t see how that’s your business—”
“One paper. A stupid—long, albeit, but—paper. You know that shit sounds shady as hell, Ashton.”
“What did you get for your project?”
“A B-plus, which is laughable for you. All you had to do was finish the paper this semester. You started writing it last spring. I remember! This is a complete joke. You failing anything?” She took a deep breath, eyes swinging all over before landing on me again. “Is this a
bout your cousin dying? Is that why you’re not focused?”
That shit fucked with me.
“Why do you wanna know, because it further derails your plans to get engaged in a few months?” I spit with heavy disdain.
She wasn’t about to bring Brick into this. I didn’t want his name in her mouth at all. Fuck that and fuck Aivery.
Aivery lifted her sunglasses dramatically, exposing her beautiful face, and scoffed, “Don’t you dare. The last thing I’m thinking about now is an engagement! Your ass won’t even be graduating next month.”
She pushed her sunglasses back over her eyes and strutted away, tucking her hands in her pockets. Beautiful and fucking dramatic.
Chapter Seventeen
-THEN-
“Un-fucking-believable!” Lenny, my sports Academic Liaison, paced back and forth alongside the conference table. “It makes no fucking sense at all,” he mumbled, eyes to the floor, fists on his waist beneath his suit jacket.
My athletic director, Byron Jones, sat to the left of me, glasses off as he chewed on the end of one of its arms. “I did not see this coming,” he mumbled.
And I felt like shit. Yes, they were making a big deal out of nothing, but I knew I created this “nothing.”
“I’m sorry,” I expressed for the millionth time.
“Don’t, Spence!” Lenny curled over the conference room table, fists holding him up. “I know you’re a sharp kid—”
“The brightest of my tenure,” Jones added.
“I also know you think you’re smarter than everyone else.”
“And what that mean?”
“It means a simple ass term paper is not an obstacle preventing you from completing your academic career. Keep in mind, this degree is a segue into your professional League career! Your fucking dreams, and this path comes to a halt because of a damn paper you’ve had all semester to complete?” He stood erect and shook his head. “No. This can’t be right.”