Elite sits in a private room assuming it's her new attorney, Supreme, coming to have a visit with her. They have a lot to discuss now that this is proceeding forward.
She's not surprised that she's still behind bars despite a bond being set. The only person who would want her out is her brother. He doesn't have 10% of $500,000 laying around. They could put their grandmother's house up as collateral, but should they risk the one thing they outright own?
The door opens and to her surprise it's not Supreme. It's Detective Roland who wears a smirk. The crazy thing is, he's a very good looking Black man. In his forties, some grays are sprinkled in his goatee, caramel skin, 6'3", and fit. He's just a thorn in her side.
"Looks like we're going to trial."
"Looks like I have a lawyer now," she shoots back to remind him.
"I get it. I just wanted to extend one more opportunity to tell the truth before things are too far gone. Do you really want to put your freedom in the hands of 12 jurors, especially in Los Angeles?"
"I have nothing to say."
He looks down on her stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "What's that?" The detective points to a tattoo on Elite's throat. They're small letters. It's his first time noticing it.
"A tattoo," she answers the obvious.
"What is it? What does it mean?"
"It's Shinobi's initials." He squints being able to make out S.E.W. Elite moves her hair that's pushed behind her ear. It's to discreetly cover the other small tattooed symbol on her sideburn. It's Shinobi's name in Japanese Kanji. She's doesn't want him asking about that next.
"When did you get that?"
"After he died," she huffs in annoyance wishing he'd leave her alone. "It was apart of my mourning process. Plus, I thought I'd return a gesture he made to me."
"He had your name tattooed?" Matthew raises his eyebrows.
"My initials on his face," she says almost as if bragging.
"Interesting." The detective steps out of the room going to another one down the hall. He shakes his head approaching the prosecutor who's been watching this whole thing through a video feed... Illegally.
"Did you hear that? Imagine someone getting you tattooed knowing they murdered you," Matthew says in disbelief.
"She said he had her initials, right?"
"Yeah."
"I was looking at some autopsy pictures of Shinobi compared to ones from when he was alive. He had a couple face tattoos. There's one under his eye where he was shot. It's not listed on the body diagram–" she begins to explain.
"–because it was practically blown off from the gunshot. The coroner obviously didn't know about it."
"Exactly. I think that's the one she's talking about because the other side is a cross and it's documented."
"Then we need to confirm that."
He can tell the prosecutor is thinking. "When people shoot to the head or face, they usually shoot the middle of the forehead or temple. That orbital bone shot was personal if he indeed had a tattoo of her initials there."
"She aimed directly at it. Almost as a "fuck you"," he tracks where she's going with it. "If this isn't another sign she did this out of pure hate for him then I don't know what is. The motive is there."
"The only mystery is how a seemingly normal young woman with no history of mental illness, could butcher a man so savagely and act as if nothing happened afterward," the prosecutor shakes her head.
"She was angry he moved on and wanted him dead. She's sick. A textbook psycho. We're putting the pieces together," they high five feeling like they're getting somewhere.
"If this is the version of the story she's sticking to during trial – that Sarahi set it up, we can already count on her defense saying maybe Sarahi shot him in the face or told the armed men to do it. They'll say she shot into Elite's initials to show hate for her, for the cheating."
"That's a good argument. We'll figure it out, though."
"Have you looked into her? I was doing my research. Elite's father was a multimillionaire. After he died, she was under the care of her grandmother. That's not the big one. Obasi Mustapha is like an uncle to her," the prosecutor says getting a shocked reaction.
"Obasi? You gotta be fucking kidding me." The detective is very familiar with that name. It's hard not to be.
"Exactly. If he's helping her in any capacity, we might have our work cut out for us. We see she's already got a Braithwaite for legal counsel."
"Make sure you turn that off when the lawyer comes," he points to the button that's letting them listen in.
Detective Roland tries to go back and talk to Elite, but Supreme is now in the room.
"I know you're not talking to my client without me," Supreme stares into Matthew.
"I was waiting on you. We just had friendly conversation. Nothing important," he smiles at Elite who frowns.
"I don't want to hear it. The next time we're all in this room Elite will be ready to talk, so get a deal ready. Until then leave us alone."
"The only way we're coming with a deal is if she tells the truth. Not fairytales she made up!"
Supreme laughs. "You know damn well you don't care about the truth. You just don't want to be wrong about my client being guilty. When she's ready to talk, you be ready to listen. Whether it's the truth or not. As long as you get a signed affidavit."
"Whatever," Matthew leaves the room.
"Prosecutors and detectives makes make me laugh. They'll accept a lie all day as long as it benefits them. Muh fuckas lie everyday and admit to crimes they never did. When it's flipped they act like they give a fuck," Supreme rants while pulling out a stack of papers from a briefcase. "You need to sign this.."
"What is it?"
"NDA. Just a precaution. We need you to agree to what we said at the preliminary hearing in writing."
"It's so I won't say what I know, right?" she begins reading.
"Nor will you do anything about. That includes civilly suing anyone in our family."
"Before I sign this I want one more thing outside of free legal aid..." she decides to try her luck.
"Depends on what it is."
"I want my bond paid so I can get out. I know your family has has it."
Supreme sighs. "It is easier to fight a case on the outside. We can work the media and get interviews. I'll see what I can do. Give me some time on that one."
"I need you to say it's a deal," Elite insists.
"Deal." Supreme removes his suit jacket sitting across from her. "I've figured out a strategy after looking into Shinobi's background more.."
"What is it?"
"Compared to you, he's the one with the sketchy past. We have to paint your individual stories. The fact that you're not the typical murder suspect will work in our favor. Elite Emerson–" He says her name dramatically waving his hand in front of him. "She comes from a good family. Born in Baldwin Hills. Intelligent: A+ student, prestigious private schools, Salutatorian of her high school class, went on to attend UCLA and graduate."
Elite raises her eyebrows. In the 'good' there was also bad. He goes on saying, "You're close family friends with some very powerful people. Tragedy strikes. Eventually, your parents die. Your family loses everything. This doesn't change the fact you had a privileged upbringing. Shinobi took advantage of the fact you've been through a lot. He preyed on a vulnerable girl with no family."
She screws up her face before he can see it. Let him cook, as her brother Epic would say.
"Shinobi Waters, on the other hand. He was the opposite. He was known to get into fights at school. He was a high school drop out. A juvenile record so long that he eventually got his GED while locked up. He went to jail for 6 months at 19. Robbery. When he got out he came to L.A. then turned his life around. That's when he got into cameras. In the last year of his life, he starts having run-ins with the law again. This time for numerous altercations with people and domestic situations with you. He's not a good person."
Elite sighs. "I don't know how I feel about speaking negatively on Shy. I don't even believe in speaking ill of the dead."
"Do you want to go home or not? Court has never been about finding out the truth. It's about what you can prove. We create a version of a story to get you off."
"By disparaging his name?"
Supreme throws a folder on the table. "Right here is the beginning of the evidence we can use in court. It's mugshots, police reports, and arrests. Outside of text messages between you two we have nothing if we don't use this."
"I thought it was up to the state to show burden of proof?"
"It is, but any defense team that comes in with nothing hoping the prosecutors have nothing as well is setting themselves up for failure. I told you I want every detail of your relationship with Shinobi, so you need to get to talking. I have a case to build."
"Where do you want me to start?" She twiddles her thumbs.
"I got the transcripts of what you initially told investigators about how you met him. How did it turn into something more if it was just supposed to be a one night stand?"
Elite lays on a plush rug in Holland's large walk-in closet. She's at her condo in Los Angeles's Downtown Fashion District. At a pricy $5k a month the bill is taken care of by Holland's father. She's undoubtedly a daddy's girl who's still spoiled at the age of 25.
"I feel like we haven't really hung out since you got back from Ibiza," Elite shouts so Holland can hear in the other room. They're trying to find something to wear for tonight.
Elite had no plans of going out. For the past few weeks she's been staying inside, mainly to save money. Leave it to Holland to convince her she needs to attend some event in order to 'network.'
"I know. You've been too busy for me," Hol comes back holding a dress on a hanger to her body. She pouts for added effect to what she said.
"Nah, I've just been working. I like it. Let me see it on."
"If you'd go back to Ahmetttt," she sings not being able to miss her chance.
"I wouldn't have to work. I know," Elite finishes the thought. "I rather slave everyday of my life before being embarrassed the way I was again."
That's how she ended up in the situation she is now. While most women focus on getting their career started after finishing college, Elite focused on a man and his dreams. She invested more of her time and energy into him hoping it'd pay off. Silly her.
"Keep being foolish." Holland strips down taking her bra off only leaving her underwear. A true sign of close friendship when you're not ashamed to be naked around one another. She puts the dress on asking, "Yay or nay?"
"Mm, let me see what shoes you'd wear. The body is bodying though."
"Thank you. I have a personal trainer and I'm working out multiple times a week. Me, sweating?"
They both chuckle. "I'd pay to see that. How's the modeling thing going?"
"It's barely going," she rolls her eyes.
Holland should've and could've been in her last year of law school. Her gap year to figure things out is on its third year. She's spent those years partying, eating, traveling, shopping, and enjoying men.
Now daddy's girl was given a strict ultimatum... Get a real J.O.B. or be cut off financially for good. She has a year.
Holland decided she'll give becoming a high fashion runway model one more chance after a failed attempt in her younger years.
She tried to get into the industry by using her name alone, but you can't be a Kendall Jenner or Hadid sister when you're black. Being a nepotism baby doesn't work the same way. You won't book jobs just because your mommy or daddy's connected.
"I'm sure it'll work out. You're gorgeous, tall, that body-" Elite begins complimenting her.
"I'm not as stick thin as they want, and I'm black..."
"So?"
"It's a weird time for girls that look like me. Right now all the agencies want the darker skin African models with specific features.. Small eyes, small nose, big lips. A lot of Sudanese women. The ones with 'eurocentric' features," Holland explains.
"The Adut Akech's and Daniele Venturelli's?"
"Yeah. It's great the industry is embracing diversity, but they don't deem girls like me exotic enough. British Vogue literally made 2022 The Year of the African Model."
"What about going the pageant route again? You used to do them when you were a kid. I heard Miss America, Miss USA, Miss Universe, those can be lucrative," Elite suggests. "Black girls are winning in those a lot now."
Hol shrugs. "I need to figure out something fast. If I don't, I'm back in law school and working at my family's law firm. I'd die!"
"Would that really be so terrible? I think you can do it. You can argue your ass off and that mouth is lethal," she makes them laugh.
Holland leans forward on her ottoman. "You don't understand. Being an attorney in L.A.? It's either be a prosecutor and send innocent people to prison. They usually have trumped up charges with gang enhancements when they're not in gangs. Oh, and no money for lawyers, so they have a public defender. Then they take a plea deal because they're scared to go to trial. Or be a defense lawyer who represents rich assholes who are guilty, but you get them off."
Holland couldn't miss the chance to rant. Most people believe she's a rich airhead; almost like Paris Hilton. Her reason for not wanting to be a lawyer isn't because she's stupid or lazy.
Elite lets her keep going... "My parents helped put a lot of people in prison who didn't do it. It was all about wins on a scoreboard to them. Those people are what helped my dad become a judge and my mom a DA. And they think I want to be like them?"
"I get it."
She shrugs it off changing the subject. "What're you wearing?" Elite points to a white strapless dress. "Ooh, I have the perfect heels to go with that."
An hour later, Elite's standing in an Art Deco penthouse for some event Holland dragged her to. She fidgets her feet trying to get relief in the painful Jimmy Choo heels Holland convinced her to wear. They could pay her bills this month they're so expensive.
She's in the cocktail lounge ordering a drink from the bar. Holland knows she only came out for her, yet she keeps leaving her alone.
With a sigh, Elite checks the time walking back out to the rooftop terrace. She pushes through the large crowd. Loud music plays, but like a typical upscale L.A. party nobody's dancing. People talk, drink, blow on vapes, and hold the wall up. She already wants to call it a night. She's been pulling long days and nights getting ready for the film. She's not in the "party" mood.
Her mood is dampened even more when her eyes land on her ex-boyfriend, Ahmet...
Elite rolls her eyes. It's either a coincidence he's here or Holland knew. To add insult to injury, there's a stick thin model on his trail who he came with. She's everything Elite's not.
With a huff, Elite goes to find Holland. Sure enough the social butterfly is entertaining a group of people with one of her many crazy life stories. Holland can see Elite giving her a side-eye from beyond the circle making her say, "Excuse me for a second."
"Was this a setup?" Elite asks once she approaches.
"What's wrong?"
"Ahmet is here... with a date." She scoffs to herself. Just a few days ago he was in her dm's questioning if she already moved on.
"He brought a date?"
"So, you knew he was coming?"
"Yeah," Holland shrugs. "You two need to talk."
"No we don't. If anything, he needs to talk to me. Where's the bathroom?" She asks being pointed in the right direction.
Right as she turns around Ahmet is in her face smiling. "Heyy, Ahmet," Holland eases away to leave them alone.
"Long time no see," he lets out awkwardly.
"Whose fault is that?"
If looks could kill, Ahmet would be dead right now.
"Look, I'm sorry for how everything played out. I just didn't know what else to do. That's all I came over to say. I don't want any hard feelings or bad blood."
"There's 100 options that would've been better than what you did. Excuse me," she pushes passed him.
Elite spends the next 30 minutes of the party trying to avoid Ahmet. She goes out to a balcony needing to be alone with her thoughts. Really she needs to calm down. She's thought about going up to Ahmet and slapping him, throwing a drink on him, or cussing him out.
She breathes in and out letting the air hit her skin. As soon as she's calmed down the door slides open and Ahmet steps out. The side eye he gets makes him chuckle..
"I've been looking for you," he closes the door behind him.
"I don't know why. And why does that hoe have my purse?!" Elite asks with attitude about his date. She had on a rare Chanel bag that Elite handpicked.
"That was yours?" She gives a deadpan look because he knows it is. "You want me to make her dump everything out so you can have it back?"
"You think this shit is funny and it's not." She watches him light a blunt before taking a puff.
"It's not at all. Not being with the person you've been with for years... I'm not gonna lie, it's different not having you on my arm at things like this."
"Different in a good or bad way?"
"Bad. You knew how to work the room. You actually knew how to contribute something worthy to a conversation. You knew me better than I knew myself."
"Well, I was prepared for that since a little girl."
He turns around leaning against the balcony. "Watch... Who's that?" He points at someone inside.
"She works for Atlantic Records. What're you even doing here? This is a music event. I thought your dad made you sell the label."
Ahmet had many dreams and ambitions. That's all he can do is dream. He always knew his goal in life is to take over his father's company. Obasi gave him one option: He takes over his company this year so he can retire.
Because of that Ahmet's always been a shell of himself. He's nowhere near the suit wearing mogul his father is. He's always been infatuated with rap music. He wants to be a big music exec. He had a record label in college, but once his father found out he made him sell it. Now, he's too busy being trained on how to be a CEO of an oil company.
"I did, but I promised the person I sold it to I'd do a few more things. Also, I'm secretly still managing an artist."
"If Obasi finds out that'll be your head," Elite warns him knowing how his father is.
"I know. He wants me at the company 24/7. You know I've been going to an office 5 days a week in a suit?" He laughs.
"I'm sure you're late every morning," she chuckles.
"I miss you," Ahmet admits.
"I shouldn't even be talking to you. Let alone with a smile."
"I was mad. You make me so upset sometimes," he looks her over trying to gauge her energy.
"I make you upset?"
"You smashed my unreleased Wu-Tang album that's one of one. I paid $2 million for that," he reminds her.
"You did things too.."
"No. You think I did things. If we get back together we can't keep doing that jealous shit. You're always accusing me of things I didn't do."
Her eyebrows raise. "Who said I want to get back together?" He's taken aback. "The past 3 years all I've known is you. I want to have fun."
"Like fuck other people?"
"Yeah."
He looks her up and down. There's something different about her, but Ahmet can't put his finger on it. Her aura is completely new. "You fucked someone else already?" That's the only thing he can think of it being.
"That's none of your business."
That told him all he needs to know. "Wow," he clenches his jaw. "Fine, but we eventually have to get back together. We know that."
"Maybe," she shrugs.
"There's no maybe. If we don't, we don't get the money."
"You don't even need it."
"You need it way more than me." He doesn't even know about her brother being sick, but it's even more true now. The medical bills are piling. Especially now that Epic has a diagnosis. "If I get that amount maybe I won't have to do everything my father says. I can finally be free."
"You sound like a slave..."
They both get quiet. The reality is their relationship is beneficial to both of them.
Their story starts before they were even born. Their father's did a lot of business together and were best friends. When you said Fonny, you said Obasi. They were each other's right hand.
Ahmet's family is superbly wealthy with a wealth portfolio of $12 billion. His father, Obasi, is among the richest black men in the world and a successful business magnate. He comes in at #2 on the list of Black billionaires.
How'd he amass his riches? Obasi's a tycoon in Nigeria's telecommunication network. He's the second-largest telecom provider in Nigeria. His empire also has interests in banking, oil, and importing fuel products.
Their family's famous for its opulence. The Mustapha name commands heavy respect in most circles from Lagos, Nigeria to Los Angeles, California.
Elite's father initially worked as an executive for Mobil then he started his own company called Elite Petroleum and Gas. He was able to become a multi-millionaire.
Through business, her father met Obasi and they became close. They had Elite and Ahmet the same year. They're only a couple months apart.
So, growing up they naturally had to be around each other all the time, especially once Ahmet's father moved his family to California. Play dates, dinner parties, holidays, vacations, and they went to the same schools.
Somewhere along the line their parents came to an agreement... If something happens to any of them, they'll take care of each other's kids.
That agreement somehow involved a marriage between Elite and Ahmet. It was a fast way to combine their family's wealth.
Some would classify it as an arranged marriage, but that's not how they saw it. They saw it as a way to ensure everyone will always be taken care of. And it creates generational wealth.
They never thought it'd be reality.. That was until Elite's parents died.
They assumed Elite and Epic would be good from their trust fund and inheritance. They were put in their grandmother's care. She had no idea how to handle all that money and her son's company. She let the people he already had in charge take over. Before they knew it, they were broke.
It was all gone. Someone in the company stole it or spent it all. Either way, they never figured out what happened to it.
That's when Ahmet's father began to look out for his best friend's children. He paid for their private school fees. Helped them get scholarships for college. Called in favors for internships and jobs. And gave extravagant gifts as if they were his own.
He also convinced his son the promise he made to Elite's father had to be kept. Elite and Ahmet started dating when they were 22. The ultimate plan was for them to get married one day.
They seemed to genuinely like one another at first. Then it began to feel forced. Elite felt like a favor since the Emerson's were now broke. Ahmet treated her like one too. She was going to get a well-off lifestyle, while all he got was her... And that wasn't enough for him anymore.
Ahmet began to emotionally check out of the relationship. When that happens you might as well wrap it up. There's no fixing it.
Everything about your partner borderline disgusts you. Touch, sight, their voice, them being happy, the way they chew. There's no recovery for what you had together. It's worse than cheating sometimes.
In the end you'll be used.. While you're pouring into them, they'll have you at arm's length giving nothing in return. It hurts. Everything's physical, if you even get that much.
"Outside of the money we'd get if we get married, we still had another agreement. You said if we breakup, you'd set me up since you got me accustom to a certain lifestyle. I was supposed to have time to get on my feet. A condo, rent, bill money. What happened to that?"
Ahmet rolls his neck knowing she's right. "You were serious?"
"Of course I was serious. I drew up a contract and you signed it. It's legally binding. In black and white it says you'd still pay my bills for up to a year. Instead you changed the locks and had my stuff in a moving truck."
"It's not like you had nowhere to go. You had your grandmother's house," he says as if that's the same thing.
Elite laughs in disbelief. "In Crenshaw? You think I wanted to go back there after living at your house in the Hollywood Hills?"
"That agreement applied until you went all psycho on me! I felt like my safety was at risk, so you had to go."
"The thing about signed contracts is you have to abide by them. There was no clause that if I do something out of emotions that you don't have to keep the agreement," she minimizes what she did.
"You can't keep using emotions as an excuse for your actions. Take accountability."
"You take accountability too... And by that I mean stick to the agreement."
"Or what?" He narrows his eyes.
"We can go to court. It's a lot easier to pay my bills," she shrugs.
"I'm not paying shit!" Ahmet's ego is coming into play now.
"Then you won't mind Obasi knowing about that kid you had with the white woman," she threatens.
"My daughter's mother isn't white."
"Now you defend the baby mama. She might as well be. I'm not your mother. Why should I have to help you hide secret love children?"
Obasi has this thing... He wants to keep the bloodline "pure". He's proud of being a black billionaire. He wants to keep it that way. He instilled in all his children to look for women that look like them.
Well, when you raise children where they're one of few in their environment that's hard. Ahmet naturally became attracted to the types of women he saw at his private schools, gated communities, and country clubs.
He had fun with these women knowing the expectation was always for him to bring home an Elite. He could fall in love with a woman of another race today, but his father would never accept it.
Ahmet had a kid with a woman who's not black that Obasi still doesn't know about. The child's 4-years-old.. There's no telling what Obasi will do if he finds out.
"Tell him," Ahmet calls her bluff. "You wanna tell him we're not together anymore too? I'm sure he'll have an actual heiress lined up for me to be with. Then you won't have a single chance at marrying me or that money. What I don't think you seem to get is me and my family no longer benefit from me marrying you. You're broke. The Emerson name holds no weight. Me being with you was a favor," he throws it in her face.
Elite doesn't know what to say. She can remember the days when her and Ahmet were best friends. Then things just switched. Resentment built up.
Too many years spent in a façade of a relationship for someone he didn't have feelings for romantically. Maybe Elite fooled herself into believing one day he'd fall in love with her.
"Fuck you," she shoots back.
"Yeah, whatever. Have your fun, but you know what has to be done. Where you gonna go that's better than me? I'll put money in your account for bills," He flicks his blunt over the balcony going back inside.
Elite sighs pacing back and forth. To get her mind off the exchange, she checks her Instagram. At the top of her accounts 'suggested for you' is Shinobi's page.
She clicks on it and begins scrolling. He treats it more like a tumblr blog. It's filled with his random candid photography, dumps of his life, sprinkled in with his photoshoots and film projects he's worked on. His work is impressive. Magazine covers and spreads, commercials, short films, and cinematography he's done for major streaming platforms.
As much as she's been trying to keep her distance from him that itching feeling of curiosity hits her.
Before she knows it she's calling him. After a few rings he picks up. "What're you doing?" Elite asks.
"Why?" She can hear the skepticism in his voice.
"Are you busy? I was wondering if I can come over."
The line is silent for a few seconds then Shy responds, "I'll send the address."
With a smile she ends the call going back into the penthouse. She looks around finding Holland who's flirting with some guy. "Do you mind if I call it a night? I'm tired," Elite dramatically yawns.
"Girl, if you don't want to be here because of Ahmet just say that."
"I don't."
"Fine, go. Leave me by myself," Holland plays victim as if she didn't cause this.
"Are you good? You'll get an Uber or I can drop you off?"
"Uber." They hug and Elite swiftly heads for the entrance.
Her walk is filled with confidence as she passes by Ahmet and his date. The only reason he brought her was to get the usual reaction out of Elite. Instead he got nothing. His eyebrows are scrunched in confusion watching her leave.
The decision to call Shinobi was once again motivated by Ahmet. She made the decision to do whatever the hell she wants. She's tired of considering people's feelings when they don't do the same.
It takes her less than ten minutes to get to Shy's place. She's buzzed into the building then rides up to his floor. Elite steps off the elevator looking around the loft.
To the left Shinobi sits on the couch awaiting her arrival. Now that she's slept with him it makes sense why he sits with his legs so wide open. He wears a cocky smirk saying, "Well, well, well.."
"Shut up," she playfully rolls her eyes as they both smile.
"I thought you said you wanted to keep it professional. What made you change your mind?" He stands making his way over to her. Elite wastes no time removing the borrowed heels from Holland and sitting her purse on a nearby table.
"You know why," she looks down at his crotch.
Shinobi's tongue glides across his bottom lip loving her honesty. He wraps an arm around her waist pulling her close to him. "Welcome back." He lifts her head by the chin to make her look up at him.
When his lips touch hers, she's hoping that gooey feeling was a fluke last time. She wanted it to just be because she hadn't been intimate with a man in awhile, but it's not. She has the same exact feeling. In fact, it's more intensified.
They part allowing her to say, "Glad to be back."
The chemistry is still through the roof. After the first round they both went to sleep only to wake up at 5a.m. and be back at it.
Shinobi saying, "You wanna see the sun come up?" and going on the rooftop somehow turned into this... His loft that spans three floors also has a private terrace on top of the seven story skyscraper. Elite rides his dick on the outdoor patio round daybed.
They don't give a single fuck that they're out in the open environments. The only way someone will see them is if they're also on the roof of another building. Or if they have a drone, are in a plane, or helicopter – which is a rare chance.
Elite felt like she had a point to prove from the first time. She couldn't leave the impression that she's this submissive woman who folds easily in bed. She came here on a mission and took the lead.
With orange skies providing exceptional scenery along with LA's mountain ranges and downtown buildings, Elite's moans hit the foggy air. Sliding down on him, her kisses trail his neck as she begins to grind in his lap.
Shinobi stares at her with his bottom lip tucked tightly between his teeth. The dreamy look in his eyes make her insides do somersaults. He's the type that'll make any girl think he actually likes them by the way he looks at them.
"I've been waiting on you." Shy gazes up at her pouty expression that turns into a grin. His hands grip her hips as she continues to toss her ass in his lap.
"I know you have."
Her eyes concentrate on the infinity pool and zen garden in the background. She can't believe she's doing this. This time around she's not going to regret a single second. That's obvious by how her body's reacting to him. All she can hear is the sound of how wet she is and the chirping of birds in the distance.
"Oh, my God," she whispers while looking down. Her juices spill down and onto his lap adding to the visual.
"Sexy ass," he mumbles, palming her ass. Their lips sloppily meet, as the liquor they drank in between rounds rushes through their systems. It causes the connection to get steamier.
She slows down to grind against him. "Fuck," he groans digging his fingers into her hips.
Every time he utters a word it causes her to uncontrollably squeeze around his dick. They're unpredictable and unprovoked but so strong. It's like a inner hug from the waist down.
"Shit," he grunts, slapping her ass with both hands. "Ride that dick." That was her direction to begin dropping her ass down on him. The sound echoes through the open air.
"This what you want?" she asks teasingly. Elite's thumb brushes over his bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth.
She moans with satisfaction. This is only their second time sleeping together, but she feels like this is only the tip of the iceberg for his nastiness. Watching him do the same with her index and middle finger is a small confirmation.
His eyes roll back as she grinds against him. Getting on her feet, Elite puts her hands on his chest for support. Shy's toes curls as he stares straight up at the morning sky of rosy hues from the rising sun's cast. At this point he wants to see white doves, rainbows, and pearly gates it feels that good.
Hearing a soft thumping noise, Elite wonders what it is until she notices his hand tapping the patio furniture. "Are you tapping out?" she asks not letting up for a second.
"No. Let's go," Shinobi says not willing to show she's made a bitch out of him. It's too late because he's on his way to unraveling.
On command, she puts her hand around his neck softly, riding from tip to base. She ups the ante squeezing his neck harder while slamming down with more pressure and speed.
Elite looks deep in his eyes not breaking the contact. "God, you feel so good." He moans as she never misses a beat. The intense feeling causes Shinobi to involuntarily lurch forward. She only giggles, pushing him back onto the cushion.
She knows he's about to cum and she is too. Elite pays close attention to the rhythm of her up and down motion. She perfectly lines them up making sure to squeeze around the tip where the most nerve endings are each time. It drives him crazy and she knew it would.
"Elite," he says in between tight teeth. Shy reaches forward grabbing her neck to choke her back. All it does is make her go even harder. That's what she wanted.. To showcase her power.
"Fuckk," she whines, tossing her head back. "I'm gonna cum."
"Cum on my dick."
Her hands press against his chest trying to brace herself as her peak nears. She continues to slam down on him as they quickly begin to get sloppier and more uncoordinated.
Elite's eyes shut tightly. She gasps for air as her orgasm hits being sucked into a vortex of pleasure. At the same time, Shinobi releases into the condom holding onto her waist firmly. His bottom lip hangs down as he holds a blank stare.
There's seconds of silence while they're both trying to catch their bearings. Shinobi blinks a couple times having to remember they're outside. He almost forgot where he was for a second.
She tries to move, but he holds her firmly in place. He takes a hard swallow before saying, "You bet not act like you don't know what you want. You can ask for this dick anytime you want." With his hands cupping the cuff of her ass he makes it jiggle.
A smile spreads across her lips before she can stop it. She moves her wet hair from her own sweat off her shoulders. "Any... time... I... want?" Elite kisses him with each word. Before he can answer she moves her lower half so his dick can slide out of her. It makes Shy quiver at the loss of connection.
Elite swings her leg over him getting up from the daybed. She plays off the fact her legs are shaky by sitting on the edge.
Shinobi leans up to look at her only to fall back with a over-delighted sigh. "Shit!" He breathes out bringing his arms up as if to stretch them. They both bust out laughing when they hear his shoulder pop. "What the fuck, yo?" He whispers looking up in a daze.
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Thoughts on Elite's backstory with Ahmet? Do you think she should get back with him?
Elite spinning the block on Shinobi? Especially after he slept with Holland again?
Comment / Vote🥀