Page 21 of A Million Boss Kisses

CHAPTER TEN

Marissa Bentley

A fter showering and changing into a jogger set for my flight, I was ready to tackle the day with a better attitude than I’ve had in about a year.

It was amazing what a few earth shattering orgasms could do for the mental.

My hair was pulled up in a tight bun, exposing my entire face, and I had to give myself a moment to marvel at the natural glow I was rocking.

When I came out of the bedroom, our suitcases were lined up by the door, and Yaseer looked so damn good dressed down in his white tee and a pair of basketball shorts. His face was buried in his phone while his thumbs typed away.

“You ready to go?”

“Yep,” I chirped. “Wait. The cake,” I panicked. “You didn’t throw it away, did you?”

“Nah, I left it there. Figured it was ruined. Housekeeping can take care of it,” Yaseer shrugged.

“If your dick was clean enough to go in my mouth, then I can still eat the cake. It’s too good to waste,” I explained just before my eyes landed on Wayne sitting at the bar.

“Yaseer, why didn’t you tell me someone was in here?” I fretted, my cheeks heating from embarrassment.

“My bad, beautiful. I’m sure Wayne has heard worse.”

I rushed into the bedroom to grab the cheesecake and took a deep breath before I had to face this strange man who had heard my vulgar comment. When I returned to the common areas, Wayne was stacking our luggage onto a cart as Yaseer continued clicking around on his phone.

“Is that a rental car you are driving?”

“No, it’s mine.”

“So where you leaving it while you go to the airport since you don’t live here anymore?” Yaseer pried.

“I’ve been leaving it in the long term parking lot. I haven’t been back to Miami in months, and when I first left, it was an impulsive decision. I didn’t have time to play games with people, so I just left it there.”

“Oh,” he nodded, still clicking around on his phone.

“Wayne, you follow us to the airport.”

“It’s really okay. I know you have to get your daughter to catch your own flight,” I stated.

“It don’t work like that,” he refuted. “I’m going to make sure you get there, then I’ll go handle my business.”

“Okay,” I nodded because there was no use in arguing with him. I’d learn that the hard way.

When we got to the valet stand, Yaseer’s truck was already pulled to the front, and I dug around in my purse for the valet ticket.

“I think I left the ticket in the room.”

“Nah, I had Wayne bring it down here while you were getting ready so they could already have them pulled around,” he clarified.

“Wassup my man, where the Bentley at?” Wayne asked the valet attendant that jogged in our direction.

“Ummm, my manager is actually coming out to speak with you guys. He’s right there,” the young black man pointed over our shoulders at a man dressed in a suit.

“Hello, my name is Keith Stanford. I want to start by apologizing about the inconvenience, but there was a gentleman who came here last night and claimed the Bentley. He said his wife lost the valet ticket and…”.

“I’m sorry, what?” I sputtered, stepping towards Keith, but Yaseer quickly stepped in front of me, silently urging me to calm down.

“So you let a random motha fucka take her car?” Yaseer quizzed, his thick eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

Biting into my bottom lip, anger coursed through me.

First, the hotel staff allowed Yaseer to gain access to my room, now someone took my damn car.

I whipped out my phone to open the My Bentley app to track my vehicle’s location as my chest heaved up and down.

“He had a photo ID that matched the name on the vehicle registration, and he knew the make, model, and tag number. Our valet followed protocol by bringing in management. I was not on duty at the time, so I cannot speak to the incident any further. The gentleman did allow our staff to take a copy of his photo ID, and it matched the names on the account that initially booked the hotel. We can pull the footage and give you access to everything we have on file. Again, we’re deeply sorry.

” Keith detailed, brows pinching with remorse.

I looked at Yaseer, whose jaw flexed before he went in on Keith. “Motha fuck yo apology. You think that’s good enough when you let a motha fucka ride off in her shit?”

“Yaseer, it’s okay. Just take me to the airport before I miss my flight,” I urged him when the location finally popped up on my screen. “Nobody stole my car. I have the location. I know where it is.”

“You sure?” Yaseer queried.

“I’m positive.”

Yaseer mugged Keith before leading me over to his truck.

Wayne started packing our luggage inside while we sat in the car.

My phone started vibrating back to back with pictures from Quinten.

I laughed at myself when I saw there were pictures of me and Benjamin entering Oleans, and me and Yaseer pulling out of the parking lot of Oleans.

There was a message that followed that picture.

Scum: You think you about to ride around with another nigga in the car I bought you? You out of yo fucking mind. Have that nigga buy you a car.

Another picture of me walking into the hotel hand in hand with Yaseer came through, and I groaned audibly. I should’ve known that Quinten had people watching me when I came to Miami.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I quickly locked my phone screen, hoping Yaseer didn’t see what was just on my screen. “Nothing. I’m just ready to get the fuck out of Miami.”

“That fuck nigga you married to took your car?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck it, I’ll get you something better.”

“That won’t be necessary. I already have another car where I live. I barely come back to Miami, so it’s not a big deal. I’ll never step foot back down here again if I don’t have to.”

“Nah, don’t talk like that. My people live down here. We slide through often, and you are going to be included in the itinerary from now on,” he asserted, gripping my hand.

All of the tension left my body once he interlocked his fingers with mine.

Wayne slid into the driver’s seat, and I leaned my head on Yaseer’s shoulder as we pulled off.

The ride was calm and silent, flashes of the freaky shit we did last night and this morning filled my mind until we were nearing NW 42nd Avenue.

Just before Wayne could make the turn, four black Suburbans boxed us in.

I sat up, rolling my eyes because I knew my day was about to go to hell.

“Ion know what’s going on but do you want me to try to outrun them or shoot at them? They forcing us down NW 38th Street and ain’t shit back there but cheap motels and abandoned lots.”

Wayne lifted a gun from the middle console, and Yaseer pulled one from his waist and another from the pocket of the passenger seat.

“You all calm and shit. This your husband ain’t it?” Yaseer looked over at me.

“Unfortunately.”

“Stop the truck,” Yaseer commanded.

Wayne shook his head, following the command. Yaseer’s window came down and he leaned over to plant a kiss on my lips. The passenger door of the truck that was on my side came open, and Quinten’s shiny bald head appeared like a nightmare that I couldn’t shake.

“Get the fuck out of the truck, Marissa,” he demanded, tapping his gun on my window.

I rolled the window down to argue, but couldn’t get a word out before Yaseer addressed him. “Aye, watch how the fuck you talk to her!” Yaseer barked.

“Watch how I talk to my wife?” Quinten exploded, slapping his chest with enough force that we all heard a loud thud.

“Calm down before you burst a blood vessel,” Yaseer laughed. “Marissa is your soon to be ex-wife. That title doesn’t mean shit to me. Like people love saying, that marriage license ain’t shit but a piece of paper. She in my truck, right? Glowing and shit.”

“Period,” I chimed in with a smirk. “Quinten, I’m trying to make my flight back to my kids that you seemed to forget we have.”

“You been in Miami in different niggas faces. Don’t act like you mother of the fucking year around this bitch.”

“Alright, Ion wanna lay you down in front of her because at the end of the day, Quincy and Lil Q do need their father. But if you talk out the side of your neck to her again, I’ll make it happen,” Yaseer cut in.

“You had this nigga around my boys?” Quinten gritted, his eyes searing into me as if his lying ass had any room to question me.

“Oh my God,” I rolled my eyes. “Wayne, please drive. I can’t with this nigga for real.”

“If this truck moves an inch, I’ll spray this bitch myself.”

“You ain’t gone shoot shit with your wife in the truck,” Yaseer chuckled darkly.

“Test me,” Quinten challenged.

Before I could blink, Yaseer leaned out of the window, and all I could see were his legs and parts of his chest as he emptied both the clips; bullets went flying in all directions, sending Quinten’s men ducking for cover.

Wayne peeled off, tires screeching against the pavement.

I got nervous that Yaseer might fall out of the window, so I gripped his legs, anchoring him with both hands before yanking him back inside.

Wayne swerved hard to the right, and the momentum sent me right on top of Yaseer.

His arms instinctively wrapped around me, the cold steel of the Glocks clutched in his hands brushed against my warm skin.

I didn’t flinch though. Instead, I grabbed his handsome face and kissed him slow and hard, feeding the tension that simmered between us.

When I finally pulled away, my tinted gloss stained his lips.

I stared at him, attempting to control my uneven breaths while admitting to myself that Yaseer was every bit of the man he thought he was.

Pulling myself off Yaseer, I glanced out of the back window. We had a solid lead, since Quinten’s men were all out of their cars ducking for cover before they could pile into their trucks and chase after us. Just like Yaseer said, not a single bullet came flying our way.

“Who the fuck is your husband?” Yaseer wondered, reloading his clip.

“Quinten Bentley.”

“He works with the Bentley Cartel?”

“He’s currently the head of the family.” I clarified, wondering what was swirling around in his head because the last thing I wanted to do was lose him. That thought crossing my mind told me I was falling for him, whether I wanted to admit it or not.

“That flight, you can forget about. You coming with us.”

“No, I have a life that I need to get back to,” I fretted. “I’ll be okay. Quinten isn’t going to do anything to me. He just wants to assert his power in front of you.”

“And we see how that worked out for him. We are going the same way, so you are really just catching a flight with us,” Yaseer advised.

My eyebrows raised, and I turned in my seat to face Yaseer. I didn’t know where he lived, and never shared with him where I lived either. “Where am I going?”

“Tampa. I do my research, unlike you. I’ve been living there since we expanded and opened the second Legacy Wealth Management office. I also bought a minor league baseball team there.”

“Don’t worry, I can get all up in your business, too. Just wait and see.”

“I’m an open book. I thought you realized that already. Anything you want to know, just ask me.”

I melted into the seats, my hand grasped firmly in his as we headed to his parents’ house.