All night.
All damn night I've been thinking about her.
She is something else.
Fuck.
The way she took down the hooded guy with a gun right in front of my eyes. The way she checked the chamber and realized that there was only one cartridge. The way she snapped at me. The way she glared at me. The way she was grinding on me.
Damn, I'm still horny as fuck.
I would never have guessed that a short girl curled up in a library reading a big book with glasses on and can speak a million different languages could stand in front of a man on his knees with a gun to his head spitting harsh words at his face. That was probably the hottest thing I've ever seen.
In some ways I wished I was the guy on his knees in front of her.
But damn. The way she looked in those fucking short ass black shorts was getting me distracted. But she looked so bored when she walked up behind the guy, like she'd done things like that a million times before.
Her stance was strong, her hits were always dead on. Her moves were precise and never faltering. She had nailed the guy right in the ear, he started bleeding after that hit.
But the way she spoke to me. No one speaks to me that way. And no one ever has, until her.
Her mouth is dangerous. And I love it.
"Son! Get down here!" My father yells up the stairs. His loud voice travels into my room with ease.
I roll my eyes, not exactly wanting to go down and talk with my father. He probably has another "errand" for me to do for him.
"Son!" He yells again.
Fine I'm coming.
Groaning, I stand up from my bed and run a hand through my wind whipped hair and lazily make my way down the hallways, my hands deep in my sweatpants pockets.
I make my way through the long decorated hallway, nodding to our servants as I go.
Yeah, we're rich.
The priceless heirlooms sat on precisely cleaned dark oak tables, the million dollar art paintings hanging on the light sage walls, the lower half of the wall was covered in swirling gold, shining brightly in the large lights hanging from the ceiling.
I take a sharp right and lazily make my way down the gold grand staircase, green carpet laid out over the steps.
Paintings of landscapes scattered across the walls, a long green carpet lead right from the steps to the front door. The large dark oak double doors with the bright and shining gold handles.
Once I finished descending down the stairs, I take a left walking into a light grey almost white paint coated kitchen. The dark green cabinets with gold knobs clashed with the white marble countertops quiet nicely I'll say.
I nod to the cooks who were busy cleaning up after dinner. I had missed that. Oh well. They paused their work and slightly cowered back as I pass by.
Watching them cower made me think of Amara. How she doesn't cower away when I walk by. How she stands her ground and lifts her chin. How she stares at me in defiance. How she never lets thing go. How she teases me.
I walk under the archway and into the dinning room. The table ran the whole way through the dinning room, the sage green walls and gold accents extended through out the dinning room, paintings and pictures were hung all over the sage walls.
There were at least 12 chairs around the long table. A bouquet of flowers sat in the middle. My father, my mother, and my 4 brothers were sitting around the table turning to look at me as I entered.
"You called me?" I asked as I walked over to the table slowly, leaning onto a chair as I looked at my father's face. He was an older man, but he didn't act or move like an older man, he had dark brown hair with some streaks of grey. My mother was sitting next to him, her long black hair pulled up in a fancy hair style and a long green silk night gown covered her body. My brothers were also sat at the table, my two older brothers had their arms crossed across their chest, my two younger ones were arm wrestling near the other end of the table.
My younger brothers had the brown hair from my father, and me and my older brothers got the black hair from mom. But our eyes...our eyes are a different story. Mother has brown eyes, and so does my father. But I've got gray. My oldest brother has red-ish brown, my second oldest brother has brown almost black eyes, and my two younger brothers have pale almost purple eyes.
We don't know how we got the exotic eye colors. But it's cool.
My fathers face lifted in a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the gesture. "Good of you to join us son." He spoke, then looked across the table.
"Mason." My father almost demanded. My second oldest brother looked over at him. He was a year older than me, we're closer than just siblings.
"You and Kingston need to pick your grades up." He spoke.
Oh. That's what this is about.
I roll my eyes as I crossed my arms across my bare chest. My mother shot me a deathly glare and I returned to a standing position with my hands at my sides.
She's shot me in the arm before. I'm not risking it.
Mason stood up from the table "What the fuck? I've been doing my work!" He protested and my father narrowed his eyes on Mason. Mason looked back at my father, his eyes burning with annoyance "Get a tutor." My father suggested.
"Who is gonna tutor us? Everyone's scared of us." Mason reminded him. My father groaned and leaned back in his chair "There isn't a single smart person you can think of that isn't scared of you?" He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
Amara.
I stood up a little straighter "Actually, yeah there is."
All my family paused and looked over at me, shock written on all their faces. I chuckle slightly as I stuff my hands in my sweatpants pocket "Her names Amara. She knows everything I swear. She cussed out Asher in 5 different languages.", Mason started laughing as I did too.
Soon my oldest brother, Dawson, was laughing with us too. He was two years above me, but he was a big softy even though he had a rough looking exterior.
"I wanna meet this Amara." Dawson said with a smirk on his face "I wanna see if what you say in true little brother.", once again rolling my eyes at him.
Mason nodded "Yeah. Me too. Is she hot?" He asked, his words true to the look in his eyes.
My eyes burn with a glare and his eyes widen "Oh" he murmured and looked at my father who was also looking at me. He raised an eyebrow at me "I'll call the principal." He stated and immediately my head starts to shake left and right. They all look at me confused.
"I don't know if she goes to our school" quickly answering their question before it fell out of their mouths.
My father sighed, looking up at my mother who smiled sweetly at him "I'll call the school and ask. Okay dear?" She asked me and I nodded.
God I hope she goes to my school.
But if she does, why haven't I seen her?
My father nods "Alright. You are all dismissed.", Mason and Dawson jump up from the table and hustle out of the dining room, the two twins following behind them.
I follow after them, but not without replaying the event of what had happened tonight.
~~~~
This damn shower isn't helping me.
The cold water freezing my skin, my dick hard and throbbing, with Amara on my mind.
I can't stop myself from imagining her on her knees in front of me, her mouth wrapped around my dick as her talented tongue does wonders on my throbbing, swollen cock.
I can't help but think about her in the shower with me, her long dark hair sticking to her back, the water running down her perfect skin.
I can't take this. Fuck it.
I haven't had to jerk myself off in months.
But here I am, wrapping my fist around my cock, imagining it to be Amara's holding my shaft because she couldn't take me all in her mouth.
I slowly pump my fist, my dick sliding in and out of my fist easily because of the water.
My eyes fall closed and my head lulls back, letting out a groan at the image of Amara running her tongue from the base of my dick to my tip.
Her burning emerald eyes staring up at me from beneath her beautifully long lashes, her eyes devilish. The freckles scattered across her nose and cheek bones making her look so innocent when she's anything but.
I can just image wrapping her long hair around my fist, keeping it out of her face as she gave me a blow job. The way she would gag if I randomly thrusted into her mouth, the way tears would well up in her eyes if I continued to slam my dick into her mouth. The way her eyes would flutter if I let out a moan. The way she would moan around my cock.
I grind my teeth together as I feel my balls tighten. I hadn't came in the last sex sessions I've had in a while, and here I am, close to coming in the shower with my own damn fist fantasizing about some fucking hot nerd I met only today.
Technically yesterday since it's past midnight.
With one last image of Amara snapping back at me in Italian, I cum in my own hand.
My muscles tense as I wait for my orgasm to pass. Shit that felt good.
A sigh leaves me, hoping that now I've jerked off to her image she will finally leave my mind.
No. She's still there.
Her long brown hair gently being touched by the wind, her ass in those fucking short black shorts, her bare legs covered in goosebumps from my touch. Her eyes flashing with misbehavior as she spoke dirty words to me. The way she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to contain her noises.
But then my mind flashed to when she was in the library. How innocent and cute she seemed. Her hair pulled lazily into a ponytail, her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose as her soft eyes scanned the pages covered in black ink. The way her skinny ripped jeans hugged her curves beautifully, the way her sweatshirt looked as she held the stack of books in her hands. The way her auburn freckles gently lit up in the sunlight rays.
She's just so....perfect.
What is she doing to me?
~~~~
Staring at my homework that is crinkled on my desk is doing nothing to help me. Nothing printed on this stupid piece of paper made sense. It's all fancy words and that bullshit.
It's 5:32 am in the morning. Amara has kept me up all night with her sassy tone, her sexy ass body and eyes. Her smartass mouth.
Soon I'll have to be getting ready for school but I haven't been able to get a single second of shut eye. Curse her.
My pencil sits on my desk next to the crumbled piece of paper but I have no idea what to do with it. What does this even mean? Y=-0.5x+k? What the fuck?
A groan rumbles from the back of my throat as I spin around in the cushiony black office chair I have at my black desk. Sinking down in my seat as I look around my empty room.
Not that type of empty.
I stare at my dark grey walls, covered in nothing but long shadows that flowed in through the double French doors that lead out onto my balcony, the white marble tiling glowing in the moonlight that peeked through the window pains. My king size bed sat pushed up against the middle of the right wall when you walked in through the door to my room. My master bathroom was on the left wall when you walked into my room through the door, but not before my "living room". It was an "L" shaped black couch that faced a 72 inch flat screen TV that sat on a black TV stand, the remotes sat on the top near the TV. There was a black fluffy rug in the middle of the living room area, the couch seemed to section off the area from the rest of my massive room. There were two bedside tables with black lamps on each side of my bed. A clock was rested on the right bedside table side of the bed, the side I sleep on. My walk in closet was next to the master bathroom, also large, black, and white marble.
My desk sat next to the French doors, covered crumpled paper, a laptop, my school books, dealings I've made, calculations, and some other random shit. But in a certain drawer sat my loaded black pistol. Just in case.
Pushing up out of the office chair and slowly making my way over to my empty king sized bed. The sheets are black, the pillow cases white, along with the comforter, but the thick top blanket is black.
My body falls across the bed, laying my face on the cushiony mattress, closing my eyes and letting out a frustrated groan.
Amara.
Amara.
Amara.
Amara.
Amara.
That's all I can think about.
Damn it.
I really hope she goes to my school. I need to see her. She has some explaining to do.
I continue to stare at my dark grey walls, images of Amara flashing through my head. About to stuff my face into my comforter when a knock sounds at my door.
"Come in." I grumble out. My voice rough and thick. Tired.
My mom walks in with a smile on her face "It's time to get up for school King." She speaks softly and I nod my head, grumbling lazy words as I push up off my bed.
She nods and closes the door gently behind her. But nice thing for me is I can take my motorcycle today.
My legs take me into my closet and I yank my black hoodie off the hanger and throw that on the ground along with a pair of black ripped jeans, my usual black sneakers and my rings that are scattered out along my desk.
I quickly change into my outfit, clipping the silver chain my father had given me around my neck and slipping all my silver shinning rings onto my fingers.
I have ring for each finger.
Making my way into my bathroom, I quickly brush my teeth then mess with my hair some. I have semi-dark shadows under my eyes.
It's Amara's fault.
I almost punch my mirror in frustration. Why can't I go to sleep!? Why can't I forget about her!? Why does she keep invading my thoughts!?
Grumbling to myself, I walk out of my room, grabbing my phone off the charger and stuffing it in my hoodie pocket and lazily making my way down the staircase once more.
My twin brothers jump on the staircase railings and slide down the shining gold. They're laughing at each other.
They both jumped off at the end as I continue to walk down the stairs lazily, tiredness weighing heavy in my chest.
"What's up with you big bro?" James asks me, the one with the purple-ish eyes and shorter brown hair that barely is more than a buzz cut, it's a little long up top but that's it.
"Yeah you look like shit," Julius commented and my eyes roll instinctively at the two. Julius has longer fluffy brown hair that sits atop his head nicely. They both wear black ripped jeans, and a single silver chain clipped onto their jean belt loops, James has his clipped on the left side and Julius had his clipped onto his right side. They both have long sleeve white shirts on with a black graphic t-shirt over that. My brothers got style. "Wow, thanks for the compliments J and Jul." I grumble at them.
They both cock an eyebrow at me "You good?" They both ask in unison. As usual, always matching.
"I'm sure he's fine. Probably stayed up all night at some chicks house." Dawson speaks as he makes his way down the stairs. I quickly shoot a glare at him from over my shoulder. His black hair is shaved down on the sides, but his fluffy black hair is in his special swoosh, dusted with hair gel. He has the regular black jeans on, a black t-shirt on and a red flannel tied around his waist. He has his black cross earring in his left ear, the only piercing he has. He doesn't always wear it.
My rough hand drifts down my face, shooting him a tired glare again. He chuckles at me "J and Jul are right bro. You look like shit.", once again my eyes roll at their comments.
Mason walks out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice in his hand, taking a sip out of the glass cup he raises an eyebrow at me "You good man? You look like shit.", an annoyed groans leaves me, specially directed at them. He stood there with his ankles crossed across each other. He wore the similar black jeans. Yeah we all wear tight black jeans. A white t-shirt with a black leather jacket on over that. He raises an eyebrow at me, a single spot of his right eyebrow shaved, and a thin black circular piece of metal sticks out from his eyebrow. The glass clinked as it came in contact with his lip piercing, that was also black.
"Whatever." I grumble, pushing past Mason and making my way into the kitchen.
The cooks scrambling around the kitchen, pancakes being made, bacon sizzling, eggs being scrambled, toast being toasted.
My brothers follow me into the kitchen and into the dining room.
My father was reading a news paper already at his seat at the head of the table. He was in his usual white button up shirt and black dress pants. Probably has to be somewhere soon. The shirt was crisp and unwrinkled, tucked neatly into his dress pants, a new and shiny black belt wrapped through the belt loops. Mother is sat next to him, her eyes scanning over some book. She had a simple sage green sweater on, with some black leggings, her black hair cascading down her back in messy curls. She's probably going out shopping with some of her friends if nothing bad comes up.
I wonder if her and Amara read the same books.
Ah fuck. There she is again.
I pull out my chair and plop down in it, the chair groaning slightly at my actions.
My mother and father paused, looking up at me "You alright son?" My father asks, I nod my head "Tired." I mumbled out and he looked at my mother who also looks a little confused.
She sighed as Dawson and Mason walked in, their faces down into their phones as they make their way over to the table.
James and Julius come running in lastly, pushing at each other to get to their seat first. 6 year olds am I right?
I wonder how good Amara is with kids?
Shut the hell up!
My head falls down on the table, letting out an annoyed groan. "Something on your mind?" My mother asks as I lift my forehead from the clothed table.
"This one girl. I can't stop thinking about her." I rumble out and my mothers eyes widen slightly, but a smile took over her face.
Dawson and Mason look over at me with smirks on their faces. I wanna punch them in the face so bad.
"I couldn't get any sleep last night." continuing with an annoyed voice and my mother nods, my father pausing from his reading and looking up at me from the newspaper.
"Ah. Son that'll keep you up for a while," he states, looking back down at his paper.
Another groan "So helpful dad.", he lightly chuckles as the servants scurry in with breakfast.
Dawson and Mason put their phones down and dig in, James and Julius following suit as my mother and father slowly eat their breakfast, pausing to talk about business and stocks.
Slowly I eat my breakfast, savoring the taste of the crispy bacon and toast.
I wonder what Amara's favorite breakfast is.
Seriously!?
Ugh fuck me.
That's what I want Amara to do.
Damn. I'm screwed if she doesn't go to my school.
~~~~
I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder as my mother gives me a kiss on the cheek and a sweet smile. "Goodbye," she states as she places a kiss to Mason's cheek "Be good," she tells James and Julius. She gave Dawson a quick kiss on the cheek with a smile "Have a good day," she spoke and then hurried us out the door.
My chest heaves with a sigh as I reach over onto the shelf of helmets and snatched my matte black motorcycle helmet off the shelf, tossing my backpack to Mason in the process. He caught it and chucked it into his black Lamborghini and then climbed into the drivers seat.
James and Julius jumped into the back of Mason's car and buckled up as he revved the engine up.
Dawson tossed his backpack into his silver Camaro and ducked as he slipped in and slammed the door closed, revving his engine as well.
The garage doors slowly opened, light spilling into the white and grey garage that held all our cars. We had a huge collection of shit ton expensive cars. All different kinds and models of cars in black, white, and silver.
Making my way over to my matte black motorcycle and swinging my leg over it, pulling my helmet down into my head and fastening the strap under my chin.
I put the key into the ignition and switch it on. The engine revving loudly, probably waking the whole neighborhood.
The motorcycle vibrated as it warmed up, causing my body to vibrate as well as I watch Mason back out of the garage and onto the quiet and sounding abandoned road. He zoomed off as Dawson backed out of the garage.
Once he was gone I kicked the kickstand up and walked my motorcycle out, then sat down on the cushiony black seat. Twisting my wrist and revving the engine once more, and kicking off, pressing the throttle and taking off, leaning into the turn as I pull off onto the road, heading towards the school.
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