Chapter Four
Jade
I barely started a conversation with the girls before I was dragged away with Gray. To say I go willingly is an understatement. First, I had his hands all over me between falling and being on the back of his bike. Then I had to endure the feeling of his eyes on me while my body literally beckoned to him. Now I need to feel him in me. It’s terrible. I know it’s probably just the adrenaline and leftover emotional gunk from the horrible run-in with Robby, but I can’t help it. He seems like a drug, an addiction I can't shake.
I shouldn't sleep with him because I know I will want more. I don't want it to be one night, but I also know what men like him want. They want a night of fun. Only one night. Halle and the other girls might have found their true love, but I won't get my hopes up. I'm a plus-size African American woman with a shitload of curves and even more sass. Does that mean I’m going to turn around and lose this opportunity? Fuck no.
“I thought I could share you with the ladies, but I need you. Now. If you don't want this, tell me now. We can turn around and head back to the party, or I can take you home, make sure you're safe, and then leave. But I need to know what you want now. I know you had a rough night, and I WILL be getting the name of the fucker who did this to you, but I need you too much at the moment,” he says, and I smile at the desperation in his voice. It matches what I'm feeling.
“Robby Mullins, he works at the bank. He’s a slimy fucker, and he threatened my mama. Now, show me your room,” I say, gripping his hand tighter and smirking when he looks back at me and raises a brow.
“Well fuck, that was easy. I'm surprised you gave up his name.”
“Well, he attacked and assaulted me and threatened my mama again. No one threatens my mama,” I huff, wanting the scrawny little fucker to get the shit beat out of him.
Every thought of that asshole flies from my mind as we make our way down the hall and finally stop at a closed door. Gray wastes no time pushing it open, not even turning on the light. He pushes me against the wall just inside the door and attacks my mouth like he's been in the desert for years, and I'm the first drop of fresh water he’s seen. I moan as his hands slide down and automatically cup my ass. He digs his fingers in until I know I’ll be wearing his marks in the morning. That's fucking hot.
“Pants off. Now,” I demand, going for his belt.
I'm wearing his shirt, so he easily slides his cut from his shoulders and places it on what I'm guessing is a desk beside us. The lights are still turned off, and I have a feeling they will stay that way. Men prefer to feel and not see what I'm packing. I’ll never admit it, but it hurts just a bit more with Gray. I just have to remember what my daddy told me. It's been years since I’ve worried about my weight, since my daddy took me aside and set me straight. He made me see myself as beautiful, and I live every day now, loving who I am and the body that gives me everything. Still, shit happened, and I wasn't always confident. I had a nasty fight with some skinny bitch, and Daddy set me straight when I cried to him.
He simply asked me, “Jade, my baby girl, do you love yourself?” I replied with a yes. Then he said the one thing that made me realize how much of my life I was wasting worrying about a number.
“Babygirl, do you want to change?”
I shook my head no.
“Why wouldn't you change yourself?” he asked me.
“Well, I think I'm a good person. I give everything I have for those I love. I work hard. I do the best I can,” I told him.
“In your opinion, what makes a person good enough?” he asked.
“A good heart,” I told him simply.
“And yours is the biggest I’ve ever seen. Out of everything you just told me, after telling me what made you a good person, hell, after me asking you what made a good person. Did any of those answers have to do with weight?”
When I shook my head no, he continued.
“If what makes a person a great person has nothing to do with weight, has nothing to do with a number, why would you live your life, one we are only given once, worrying about something so stupid as a damn number? Be who you want to be. Be a good person. When you realize weight only matters to children and insecure pencil dicks, I promise your life will be filled with so much happiness.”
I have lived by those words my entire adult life.
I’m brought back from that memory when Gray pulls at my clothes while guiding me to the other side of the room. Please let there be a nice big bed and not some lumpy couch. I feel the back of my knees hit a mattress; thank fuck.
“Fuck, I need to see all of this,” Gray groans as I pull his pants down, and he whips his shirt over my head. I don't know what he means until the room floods with the soft light of the lamp by his bedside. He will never know how much that simple act means to me. I take a moment to get my head right and look around the room. I see a medical book sitting on top of a comic book, and beside them are some thick, black-framed glasses. He’s a big, muscular, badass biker hiding a nerd deep inside? I have a big thing for nerds.
“You wear glasses?” I ask breathlessly as he bends and attacks one of my nipples. Fuck, if I had more than one night with him, I would demand he wear those glasses as he pounds into me from behind.
“Mostly contacts, but yes, I have glasses,” he says, moving to the other breast and giving it attention. I rest my hand on the back of his head and throw my head back as he bites down. I moan so long and loud I'm surprised no one comes in to check on us. As he stands to his full height, I get my first good look at him, completely naked.
Oh-my-fucking-lanta. His dick is pierced.
Fuck. Yes.
“You have your dick pierced?” I ask, not taking my eyes away from his anaconda and its little nose ring.
“Yeah, lost a bet,” he grunts when I take hold of his cock and slide my finger over the bar at the head.
“Lost a bet? You bet on getting your dick pierced? What bet and who did you lose to?” I chuckle in surprise.
“On the Ol’ Ladies in the club and who/what they will get into next. I lost one, but you should see how many Grease…” He stops mid-sentence and then growls. “Scratch that. You will never see how many bets Grease lost.” He attacks my mouth while I still have a hold of his cock. He reaches his finger down, slipping it through my drenched pussy.
“Oh… yeah, I'm gonna need you inside me. Now,” I tell him, falling back on the bed and spreading my legs.
“I need to taste you,” he says, kneeling in front of me. I grab him by the arms and pull him over me instead.
“Next time. I’ve read a lot of books about piercings. I want to know what it feels like. Gray, show me exactly what that piercing can do.”
And oh my lord, he does. All night, at least four times, he wakes me up with his mouth and then rubs that metal bar on my G-spot until I can't take anymore. I, for one, am in favor of that piercing. If I was president, I might just make it mandatory for men to get it… maybe. It might be too good.