Ch. 7 #3
As I washed up, a bright idea came to mind.
I didn’t have my phone which meant answering for Nesh or my parents was out the question.
Toneshia would visit me before they would and that was exactly what I needed.
Then again, just because he was kind to me didn’t mean the same for her.
It was either let her drop by and pray for the best or keep her safe and away from here until I was able to get him the fuck out of here.
Protect her, Cheyonne. She has a family, and you don’t.
I rinsed off good before standing and walking to the monitor to turn the shower off.
One of the towels off the rack was grabbed and wrapped around my body while another was wrapped around my hair.
Stepping out the marble enclosure, I headed for the bench that sat between the shower and tub.
I took a seat to catch my breath and energy.
I needed to walk across the room to grab the gown Black brought in for me and it was going to take a lot of slow pacing to get there.
While I sat there, I dried off as best as I could.
A silent prayer was sent up for God to walk with me.
One step at a time and I was able to hold my balance, that was until Black entered the bathroom and had my walk come to a halt.
I hadn’t put on any clothes yet and he was invading my private time.
“W-What are you doing in here, Black? I didn’t call you.” I was tripping over my words as if this man didn’t just help me undress to shower.
“So, you can wash yo’ ass, but I can’t wash mine? You selfish as fuck ain’t it? What? I need to put something on the water bill to use yo’ shit?”
“That’s not what I said. I asked what you were doing in here. I’m clearly still naked,” I said pulling the towel tighter around my body.
“What the fuck that got to do with me? Matter of fact, bring yo’ ass right back in this muthafucka and cop a squat.
You called out to Alexa earlier to send twelve like a nigga couldn’t hear you.
Maybe you’re under the impression that I’m some dumb ass nigga, but I assure you, I’m the smartest young nigga you’ll ever meet. ”
Damn. I thought I was getting away with something, and I truly wasn’t.
Now he was requesting me to join him in the shower as if I was someone he had relations with.
I loved everything about a man’s canvas.
It was one of the most enjoyable things God gave us women, but me and Black weren’t intimate in any shape or form.
I didn’t need to see his personal and vice versa.
“What? I’m not about to watch you shower, Black. No, hell no,” I objected.
“You ain’t got a fuckin’ choice, Brat. You had one time to have freedom, and you abused it.
Now I got to watch yo’ sneaky ass like a fuckin’ child.
You too old to be baby sat. Let’s go. A nigga balls sweaty and shit.
Oh, I hope you don’t mind me wearing some of yo’ shit. I saw some sweats in there.”
At least he’s hygienic.
“I’m not watching you, Black, and that’s final.”
He sat his gun on the sink, and I instantly froze up. “You up in age so maybe you hard of hearing. Let me slow down and speak up so you can understand a nigga. Get… yo’… fuck… ass… in… the… goddamn… shower, Brat!”
With the tone of his voice elevating, I jumped back before looking to the floor. He yelled at me once or twice already, but this time was sterner. He wasn’t joking around or giving me an option to reject his request. It was either get back in or reap the consequences of refusal.
I went to undo the towel when he stopped me. “I never said take that off. Just get yo’ ass back in there and don’t turn the overhead shit on.”
Nodding, I walked back over to the shower and turned it on for him. My showerheads were bars that stuck out from the wall. My shower was big enough for four to wash comfortably. The mode set for him was pulse since there was nothing physically wrong with him. It was a mode I used often.
I found myself back on the shower bench unsure of what to do next.
I wasn’t mentally prepared to sit and watch this man do anything but get the hell out of my house.
He allowed me privacy but didn’t mind sharing his with me.
My focus was back to the floor as soon as he entered the shower.
This was a different type of fear that coursed through my veins.
Being afraid of liking what I saw could possibly change the dynamics of the situation. I didn’t want to take that risk.
My head stayed down while suds trailed to the drains. He’d began washing and my curiosity grew by the second. He’d been the only man to enter my space as well as allow me to enter his unapologetically. When he touched me, there wasn’t an ounce of roughness in sight.
All of the moments we’d shared so far since I brought him here came to mind.
My mind wondered to how many women had the luxury of seeing him from head to toe without restrictions.
A wave of jealousy breezed over me, and I shook the thought off quickly.
He wasn’t anything to me but an individual that kidnapped me. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Brat.”
Lifting my head, I answered with “Yes.”
That fast, I went from keeping my head down and out the way to studying his body from top to bottom.
My eyes roamed with no rush behind them.
The boldness of this man to stroke his dick while calling out to me.
Whatever he needed me for, I was willing to give.
Those full lips curled upward with a devious smile piercing them seconds after.
“Stop staring unless you ‘bout to hop on this muthafucka. I’ll make an exception for you.”
“You fuckin’ wish nigga,” I replied snapping back to reality. That moment of hypnotization was short lived.
“Hand me the shampoo so I can wash my hair. Is that too much for you to handle?”
I could’ve easily done as he asked, but I refused and stepped into the brat role he claimed me to be. “It is. If you want it, come get it,” I sassed.
Cocking his head to the side, he ran his tongue across his teeth. The smirk was gone, and he was annoyed. Good.
Approaching me, the same tool he stroked now flopped against his legs.
The length was one you couldn’t miss, and the v-cut of his waist gave it nothing but compliments.
A third leg and the physique of a man that deserved every ride that was given.
Black was handsome and I was sure his egotistical ass knew it.
He got so close to me that his midsection was inches away from my face. This was the closest I’d ever been to temptation. He reached down and snatched up the bottle next to me. I could feel his irritancy radiating from his pores. I truly didn’t care though.
Turning his back to me, he strolled back to the first shower head.
I kept my eyes locked on his backside and took in every single detail.
Washboard abs in the front and a back you wanted to hug daily.
Even his little butt was cute. The tattoos didn’t seem to stop until you reached his ankles.
Tatted, red, and unapologetically him. He had traits that would’ve gave him a second chance if the circumstances were different.
I found something else to busy my time with as he finished up showering. Unpleasant thoughts began to flow making me question myself and morals. There was no way I was growing some kind of attraction to this man after he held a gun to my head.
The water shut off and my gaze was back on him. A towel was pulled from the same place I gathered mine. The free will to view his manhood was now under restriction. It was a bittersweet moment.
“Come on,” he ordered stretching his hand out to me.
I allowed him to usher me over to the sink before he grabbed his gun and stepped away into my closet.
I moved as quick as I could with getting my gown on.
Putting on underwear was too much of a struggle, and I would need his help essentially with them.
I would’ve rather free balled and kept myself out of his reach.
Once I was in the thin thread comfortably, he surfaced from the closet in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Surprisingly, they fit him well.
His stride from the closet to the sink was long and slow.
His eyes shifted to different areas of my body with each step.
I felt judged by him for the first time.
The many times he called me out my name with the cripple and special bullshit, didn’t phase me.
This look was completely different creating paranoia.
“What?” I asked trying to figure out why his gaze wouldn’t find anything else of interest.
“I didn’t expect red to look so…”
Rolling my eyes for the umpteenth time, I voiced, “It’s not my color, I know. Just help me back to bed please, I’m ready to lay down.”
“I never said that, Brat,” he replied.
“You didn’t have to.”
He circled my waist with his arm and slowly walked me back into the bedroom.
I noticed the crutch I couldn’t locate earlier was now leaning against my headboard.
A slight smirk graced my lips leaving seconds later.
He wanted to be a mean ass so bad but didn’t realize the little things he was doing for me was shattering that wall.
“Thank you,” I said once I was on the side of the bed I normally occupied.
“Mhmm. What a nigga supposed to eat ‘round here? All you got is that meal plan bullshit.”
“There’s plenty of food down there, Black.”
“No, the fuck it’s not. It ain’t nothing but vegetables and Jenny Craig tv dinners. I’m fuckin’ hungry, Brat. What’s the address to this muthafucka? I’m ’bout to order some pizza or something.” He was getting more agitated with the way I lived.
“I can’t have that. Red sauce causes flare ups. The food down there is fine. All you have to do is warm it up.”
“Aye, what the fuck don’t you understand? I’m not eating no rabbit food two days in a row. You can miss me with that goofy ass shit.”