CHAPTER 1 #3
"Nah. Look at you bitch."
More laughter. Brenda wiped tears from her eyes. "I hate both of y'all."
"You love us," Celeste replied. "Don't fool yourself."
"I really do."
The conversation exploded around them as old friends gathered closer with questions, stories and memories. But somehow Sky and Celeste had already drifted into their own world.
After a few minutes, Celeste touched Sky's arm. "You owe me drinks."
"Let's start with one."
Without another word, the two women drifted away from the group, walking shoulder to shoulder toward the bar while everyone else continued celebrating around them.
Vicky watched them go, holding her purse as the music kept pounding through the room.
Nobody had invited her to follow, and nobody had looked back.
She watched Sky laughing with Celeste as old classmates gathered for pictures and stories, all of them looking connected, comfortable, and part of something.
Vicky felt like she was standing outside a window, looking in.
She considered finding a quiet corner and waiting for the weekend to end. It wasn't long before she saw CC slip away with Tyreek.
That's when Darius caught her eye. He was alone on the platform with a lady seated in a chair facing him, her legs spread.
The short dress she wore couldn't hide what lay beneath.
Darius was on his knees, holding the lady's thighs and peering between them as he twisted his hips and gyrated his waist.
The place went silent as she imagined herself in the chair, him eating her out with a long-ass tongue. She placed her hand between her thighs and squeezed. She moaned as heat traveled from her toes to her asshole and set her nipples on fire.
Darius looked like power. He wasn't chasing; he was working. Bills were flooding the floor around him, and women were captivated. Something about him made Vicky's panties soak and her thighs squeeze together.
Beyond the ballroom, the mansion stretched into quieter spaces.
Hallways lined with framed artwork and polished wood stood in sharp contrast to the chaos below.
The farther one moved from the celebration, the more distant the music became, reduced to a muffled pulse beneath the walls.
While guests drank, danced, and chased their pleasures downstairs, other stories unfolded behind closed doors above them.
CC set her wine glass on the end table next to her crown and a folded stack of hundred-dollar bills.
The bedroom walls danced circles around her.
Rain whispered against the windows overlooking the bay while distant thunder rolled across the water.
The party continued somewhere below, its music reduced to a dull vibration beneath the growing storm.
She tried to focus, but nothing helped.
"Fuck me," she said.
Tyreek lifted her, gripping her ass to keep her in the air. She hugged his neck, wrapped her legs around his waist, and kissed him as if she had known him for years.
"You sure?" he asked.
"Your tip is on the table." She bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. "Be quiet and fuck me before we get caught."
He released her onto the bed and watched her crawl into position.
He gripped his dick and watched her from behind as he stroked himself and didn't stop until a straight ten-inch shaft resembled a pipe.
After a quick look at his watch, he crawled up behind her, spread her ass and found her dripping mound gaping for him.
"Now," she begged.
Warm lips gripped around his shaft as he entered her and grew harder with every thrust. Her scream provoked animal instinct. He pressed her back downward for a deeper arch with her breast against the mattress. Ass up. Face down.
In minutes, CC's body began to jerk and tremble.
She threw her ass back and screamed wildly and loud.
"Fuck me!" Her breath was heavy, and her voice softened as she released sticky nut over his dick.
Her breath caught. Her body sank into the soft cushion beneath her.
She lay there open with her eyes closed, slowing her breath until she was quiet and motionless.
She was asleep before she could even get dressed.
Tyreek stood, pulled up his thong, grabbed the money from the end table, and hauled ass back to the party.
The bedroom settled into silence after he left.
A cool draft drifted through the room. Lightning flashed beyond the curtains, briefly illuminating the furniture before darkness returned.
Rain struck the glass in uneven rhythms while the storm tightened its grip on the night.
Downstairs, the party sounded farther away now, swallowed by distance and weather.
Someone else entered, dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, wearing black gloves, and a white mask covering their face.
For a moment, the only sounds were the storm outside, then the faint creak of a floorboard beneath a careful step.
CC was gripped by her hair, and two slashes tore through her neck.
Thunder cracked across Tampa Bay as blood spread across the sheets.