Page 13 of A Million Boss Kisses

CHAPTER SIX

Marissa Bentley

T his cocky motha fucka backed away from me, inching closer to the door.

My gun didn’t scare him; there was no pep in his step, and he continued to ogle over my body with every slow stride.

He was clearly insane for breaking into my room, but somehow that insanity, paired with the way his almond-shaped, deep-set eyes peered at me, had me intrigued.

That said a lot because I hadn’t entertained any men since leaving my husband.

If I’m being honest, sex hadn’t been on my mind, dating wasn’t even something I’d considered, and aside from one man I’d given my number to and never texted back, men hadn’t stimulated my mind or body in any way.

However, this man had my synapses firing in all directions and heat pooling in places I thought had gone numb.

My thoughts might have been irrational, but the way he looked at me like he already knew what I tasted like had my grip on the gun faltering.

Though my mind was screaming to remain guarded, my body betrayed me, as if it had been waiting for a man to come along and wreak havoc on my life again.

Yaseer was carved from temptation, but I knew he was dangerous in the way he made my heart skip and my common sense scatter.

He was the type of handsome that would fit in a boardroom or on the front of a magazine.

Sharp jaw, smooth bald head, and a full beard that was lined and conditioned regularly.

His dark brown skin was rich and flawless, making me wonder what products he incorporated into his skincare routine.

A diamond stud glinted in his ear, but it was the way the tattoos climbed his neck that caught my undivided attention.

This man was polished, intimidating, and too damn fine for my peace of mind.

“Out! Faster!” I ordered.

“Why you trying to put up a front like you’ll shoot me?”

“I might if you don’t leave. I can’t let my knees get weak for you just for you to play in my face.”

Yaseer’s grin spread wider. “You planning our downfall and I’m trying to speed up your divorce so we can plan a wedding.”

“Yeah, you certified. Please go.”

“Let me take you to dinner. That dress you got hanging up would match perfectly with this shirt I got. We can just go to one of the restaurants on site.”

“Hell no! I’m not even staying here. You ruined hotels for me indefinitely.

I’ll probably never be able to sleep in one again.

What if you were a rapist or something? Nobody should’ve been able to gain access to my room without my knowledge.

Plus, I have plans anyways and you’re making me late for them. ”

“A date?” He inquired, and I swear those eyes flashed with possession.

It was a familiar, dark type of claim that made my breath catch.

I’d grown up around enough unhinged men my entire life that I could read one like a children’s book.

Yaseer’s eyes told me this was just the start; he was staking claim on me.

I thought that age would’ve curbed my weakness for dangerous men who came with more red flags than a Sunday football game.

Yet, I couldn’t help that I still got weak in the knees for these types of men.

“As a matter of fact, it is,” I affirmed, unable to resist testing the waters.

“Well shit, who taking us out? I’m going too,” he lowered his hands and folded them across his chest, leaning up against the door instead of taking his ass out of it. “Am I dressed appropriately for the date?” He looked down at the simple white V-neck and blue jeans he was wearing.

“I’m not going on a date, but I have somewhere to be and you’re about to make me late,” I argued like I owed this man an explanation.

“Alright, I’ll go. I’m big on punctuality, so I understand,” Yaseer nodded. “I’ll be in touch to make shit right.”

“Please don’t.”

Yaseer chuckled, opening the door while his eyes remained locked on mine.

He backed out of the door, and I finally lowered my gun, exhaling deeply, mad at myself for the tingling going on between my legs.

Taking a deep breath, I rushed over to the door and put the safety lock on.

I went into the closet, grabbed my dress and shoes, tossing them into my suitcase.

There was no way that I could stay here tonight.

A hotel would probably never see me again after this shit.

I valued my life and had kids to live for.

Once all of my shit was packed neatly in my suitcase, I exited the hotel room and took the drive back to my marital home.

This was the last place I wanted to be, but I knew I’d be safe.

The plan was to meet my mother-in-law there and drive to the fundraiser together anyway.

When I pulled into the driveway, one of Quinten’s cars was gone, and I hoped his ass stayed gone for the rest of the day.

After my run in with Yaseer, I wasn’t in the mood for anything else.

One wrong word and Quora would be at this fundraiser by her damn self.

I really wasn’t in the mood to go anyway, but it was a yearly tradition since I married Quinten.

The house was quiet, and I rushed into the master bedroom to take a shower.

I missed my place of Zen. This was supposed to be my forever home, so the bathroom was remodeled to meet all of my needs.

The bathroom was a sanctuary of luxury with marble countertops gleaming under soft, warm lighting, a freestanding soaking tub fit for royalty, and walls lined with plush towels and high-end beauty products that I left behind.

Everything was still in its place, and that would’ve been touching to me if I planned to forgive my husband, but it was fuck him forever.

After hanging the dress in the closet to prevent it from wrinkling, I ran a scalding bubble bath before undressing.

While soaking in the tub with the jets going, Yaseer’s handsome face popped into my head and for the first time in forever, I was horny.

Being separated for a year meant that I was abstinent for just as long.

My uncle had to have passed his demented mind down to me because I should not be lusting after a man who broke into my hotel room with a masseuse.

I allowed my right hand to slip down between my legs and gently circled my clit.

A low moan escaped my lips, and I opened my legs wider to give my hand better positioning.

My left hand gently tugged at my nipple as I fantasized about Yaseer doing these things to me.

As confident as Yaseer was, I was positive that he could do all of this and more.

“Damn Marissa, you look so sexy like that. Let me make you feel good,” Quinten’s voice startled me, and I quickly raised my hands to cover my breast.

I had no idea how long he was standing there because Yaseer and his handsome face had my head gone. Clearly, it was long enough for Quinten to come out of his jeans and shirt because they were on the floor.

“Don’t you dare pull your dirty dick out!

” I screeched. “You want to make me feel good? Take your cue ball head ass down to your lawyer’s office and tell her that you agree to the terms of the divorce and set me free, because I promise your dick will fall off before it ever goes inside of me again. ”

“Come on, Marissa. I ain’t fucked nothing since you left. I’m doing whatever I have to do to make this shit right,” he explained, pulling his boxers down.

His hard dick was familiar, and he knew exactly what to do to make me cum, but I wasn’t about to cave in. Jolting from the water, I pulled a towel off the rack and exited the bathroom.

“Nigga, if you wanted to make this work, you should’ve done your part when it came to these kids.

The fuck I look like fucking my own husband when he couldn’t even be bothered to show up to any of our son’s baseball games?

Didn’t put a fucking dollar towards Quincy’s college expenses but want to stick your dick in me,” I ranted.

Narrowing my eyes on Quinten, I asked the question I’d been dying to know. “Did your father encourage you to move like that over this last year?”

Quinten’s dick went soft, and he pulled his boxers back up. His silence spoke volumes and provided me the answer I needed. “You not scared of nobody but your fuck ass daddy. I guess you’ll let him ruin your life until that COPD takes him out.”

“AYE!” Quinten roared but I didn’t give a fuck.

“With all disrespect, fuck your dad. Every time that dying engine wheezes it’s like karma choking him for all of his sins.

If only you had that energy when it came to your kids,” I badgered, brushing past him.

“I been sparing you for the longest, but if you don’t stop playing with me, I’ll run to my uncle.

It’s really not you I’m sparing, it’s your cousins, uncles, and people that my boys love that stop me from escalating things.

I know that’s why you and that raggedy-breathing manipulator concocted this plan to put pressure on me to make me fold on the divorce.

Well, guess what? I’m not going for that shit! ”

“Marissa, I apolo…”

“Fuck that weak ass apology! I want you to do what’s right.

That’s it and that’s all. You weren’t the fucking prize.

I was! Your dad negotiated so much for me to be on your arm, and I did more than that, I actually loved your no good ass.

Wasted the best years of my life with you,” I teared up.

I wasn’t hurt; that was long gone. I was furious that after everything he put me through, this next part of our life couldn’t be handled with care.

“Everything that was a part of our arrangement died when you broke my heart.”