Mine - Page 55

Trigger fell back and crashed to the floor. I hit him again, so he would stay down. Blood splattered with that one. I threw in another hit because the second one felt so good. By the time the fourth came, Zola’s scream yanked me out of my enjoyment, grabbing at my arms and begging me to stop.

I rose and left the bastard coughing up blood on his fake cloud stage.

“What the fuck?!” The director ran to him. “Jesus Christ! Jesus Fucking Christ! Did he kill him?! Who the hell is this guy?”

Trigger’s security marched onto the stage.

But my men arrived too. After the eyeball roses, Baptiste had called everyone in.

Ten guys stepped out of the shadows and pointed their guns in Trigger’s security’s direction. I hadn’t intended for my men to be revealed until there was an actual emergency.

Meanwhile, Trigger’s security understood the reality of the situation. They stepped back, probably not wanting to tangle with me while trying to dodge bullets.

Zola was staring at Trigger. The dancers hurried over to get a closer look at the beat-up rapper too.

My eyes remained on her. She snapped her attention my way.

“Okay. Okay.” The director paced. “Let’s just get some shots of Zola while—”

“She’s done,” I barked, stepping right into the camera’s view. The guy operating it raised his head, opened his mouth in shock, and stepped away from the camera.

“Who the hell are you?!” the director yelled. “And where the hell is security!?”

I turned and shot him a look that had him stepping back too.

“Hunter, I’m fine.” Zola grabbed my hand. The feel of her soft fingers eased my anger.

“Fuck this video and this deal.” I guided her off the stage. “He doesn’t get to paw over and disrespect you.”

She didn’t say anything. Her mouth was just open in shock as she took it all in.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Who is that guy?” The director pulled out his phone. “Trigger isn’t getting up, and even if he did, he won’t have the sense anymore to rap. Did anyone call the cops?”

Someone mentioned, “The cops are already here.”

“Where are they then?!” the director shouted.

“They’re in the break area eating bagels.”

“Get their asses in here!”

I quickened our steps as the rest of the studio’s security hurried in. They must’ve been told that some conflict had come, but probably not what happened or who did it.

Zola still didn’t say a word as she hurried at my pace, wobbling in those ridiculous heels.

“I have you.” I grabbed her.

“Hunter!” Zola shrieked as I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder.

People rushed by us. Chatter ensued. Gossip would be all over the place by the evening. I kept moving toward her dressing room, not even stopping when I heard her heels fall off her feet.

When I made it to her dressing area, I shut the door.

“Sorry.” I placed her on her feet.

She gazed up in shock. “You punched him…a lot.”

“He rubbed his dick on you.”

She looked away. “He did. I’d planned on hitting him myself, after the video.”

“No, that’s what your bodyguard is for.”

She bit her lip, knowing what my gaze was saying to her. “York is going to be pissed.”

“I’ll deal with York.”

She whispered, “We should probably go. They called the cops.”

“We’re not going anywhere. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I have something I want to do first.” I gripped that see-through bodysuit of hers with scattered diamonds, and I ripped it right down the center. The gems fell away from her body, crashing onto the polished mahogany floor. The thin material shredded and ripped in seconds. Just threads in my fingers, it all dropped.

And the whole time, Zola’s breathing increased as she licked her lips. I gazed at her, needing to watch her expressions as I damaged her.

With the bodysuit gone, only a tiny thong remained. Chocolate brown nipples greeted my eyes. My cock jerked.

She blinked as a silly grin appeared on her face. “The bodysuit was thirty thousand dollars, and specially hand sewn for this video.”

“Tell them to send me the bill. That’s what happens, when you taunt me.”

“You punch people and rip off clothes?”

“Yes.”

“We should go.” She placed her hands on my chest.

I took a step forward.

Still touching me, she retreated until her back hit the wall. “Hunter…what are you doing?”

“Let me show you.” I used one hand to raise her chin. She had to look me right in the eyes. With the other hand, I traced along her pussy. Her breathing picked up as I began to slide my fingers along her folds, slowly caressing those soft folds, causing her to stir. I hissed at her wetness, the utter soft moistness of that pussy.

Biting her lips, she spread her legs a little as if giving me an unofficial invitation.

I groaned. “I bet your pussy tastes so good.”

She parted her lips, but I wasn’t patient enough for her response. I pressed my mouth against hers, stroking her with my tongue, coaxing her to spread those thighs more.

Tags: Kenya Wright Romance
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