*explicit content *
BEYONCÉ
It's just starting to get dark, and I walk in with more of the fabric squares with pictures on them. I hated blowing off Shawn, but I really want to finish this project. Besides, the more I spend time with him, the less I see him as a hot time. He's starting to become a lot more to me, and that's dangerous territory with a guy who has confessed he's ready to live like he never had the chance to.
Just as I walk through my kitchen, I hear a noise slap the floor, and something else slams into the ground as well. The fabric pictures tumble from my hand as I sprint across the room and head toward my bedroom as fast as possible.
Another loud noise clatters to the ground, and I scream, then clamp my hand over my mouth so that I don't become the first dead dumbass in the horror film. As soon as I get my door shut, I lock it with shaking hands.
My entire body is trembling when I grab my phone out, and I dial the first person who comes to mind.
"Glad you called," Shawn says on a sigh. "Listen, have I done something to—"
"Shawn!" I hiss, double-checking to make sure my door is locked. "Someone's in my house!"
"On my way. Lock yourself in a room and don't move," he says, sounding winded like he's running.
I hear his car cranking, and I stay on the phone, overjoyed with the fact he doesn't live far away from me at all.
Another sound rattles out, like something is scurrying across the floor. "Hurry," I whisper-yell.
"Just stay on the phone with me," he says, sounding angry or panicked or both. I'm not sure which.
Silence stretches, with the exception of a few occasional curses coming through on the phone, and I press my other ear to the door, listening. If a knife slams through the wood, I'll just go ahead and die from a heart attack.
Too many horror films.
As the unknown slasher or axe-murderer on the other side of the door maintains their silence, I bounce from one foot to the other, warily casting glances toward my window to make sure the asshole doesn't sneak up on me that way.
"I'm almost there," Shawn says harshly, reminding me he's still on the phone.
"Do you have a weapon?" I hiss, watching for his lights.
"Yeah, there's an assault rifle strapped to my back," he deadpans.
"Really?"
"Fuck no. I just jumped in my car."
"What if he has a gun?" I ask, still whispering.
"He? You know it's a guy?"
"Do you know of any women who might break into my house and chop me into tiny bits? Men are the psychotic ones."
"We met because a girl tried to stab me with a damn broken beer bottle. Be thankful she's in another country right now."
"Okay, so it's usually men," I amend.
"Michelle had a female stalker, and have you met Savanna 's family?"
It occurs to me that we're talking like my life isn't at stake here, and I realize he's trying to distract me. It doesn't work because something that sounds like glass crashes somewhere in the house, and I yelp.
"Beyoncé! The fuck?"
"Something just broke," I whisper, slinking back away from the door.
"Just stay put and stay quiet."
"Says the guy who is on the phone and talking to me," I retort.
Lights blur by me, and a car skids to a halt outside. Relief fills me like cool water when I see it's Shawn's car.
"I'm here," he says as the phone goes dead.
My breath freezes in my lungs when I hear the front door slam, and fear seizes my momentary reprieve. What if Shawn gets hurt? What if the guy has a gun or a machete or something?
Minutes feel like hours, and my stomach roils and twists with palpable anxiety.
When I hear a loud bout of cursing, I jerk open the door, grabbing the only thing in my room that will do some damage as I dart out to save an unarmed Shawn. A new sense of courage fills me and I launch myself at the shadowy figure, raising my hands above my head to bring my Magic Wand down on the psycho.
But my hands freeze, suspended midair, when Shawn flips on the light and smirks at me.
"That's twice you've brought your toy out for me," he states dryly.
He tosses a flashlight to the ground, rolling his eyes at me.
"There's no one here," he adds as I lower the vibrator that is masquerading as a weapon. A frown forms on my lips as I drop the vibrator to the table beside me.
"I swear someone is here."
He arches an eyebrow before tugging me to him. "If you wanted to see me, all you had to do was call. Freaking me out like this isn't cool," he goes on, apparently convinced I'm playing little-girl games.
I scowl at him, ready to say something to wipe that smug, condescending look off his face, when something zooms by us, and my eyes catch sight of a hairless, massive rat.
I scream and leap up on Shawn, practically strangling him as I climb him like a freaking tree. He coughs and chokes, but I only squeeze tighter when the hairless beast zooms by again.
"The fuck is that?" he chokes out, tugging my arms looser around his neck so he can breathe.
"A rat! A big fucking rat! I'm burning my house down and moving in with you! Go, Gigantor! Get me the hell out of here now!"
He chuckles like I'm joking. I'm not. I'm really not. Hell to the no. Fuck rats.
The thing suddenly stops running, and when it slows down, I realize it's not a rat... Oh no he didn't. I'm going to freaking kill him!
The hairless maniac I accused of being a rat suddenly meows at us, and it starts weaving in and out of Shawn's legs.
"Is that a... cat? Who shaved it?"
"Drake," I growl, furious now.
"Drake shaved the cat?" Shawn asks, confused as I slide down his body and glare at the little hairless thing, which is so ugly that it's almost cute.
"No," I snap, still ready to strangle that son of a bitch.
"Explain," Shawn says as I squeak and back away from the kitten. Do all cats have that kind of skin under their pretty hair?
"It's a sphynx kitty. Also known as a hairless pussy."
Shawn releases a burst of laughter, but then it dies immediately. "How the hell did he get it in here? You have a security system."
"He has my codes to my door and alarm system," I tell him, kneeling down as the kitten starts purring and rubbing against my leg. Is that a tag on its collar?
Bananas, the tag says with engraved letters. He named the damn thing Bananas?
Definitely killing him.
What the hell am I going to do with this thing?
I look up just as Shawn stalks away, heading toward the living room like a man on a mission. Confused, I walk past the kitten that I really don't want to touch, and follow him. When I see him studying my door, I cock my head to the side.
"What are you doing?"
"Did you install this?" he asks instead of answering me, gesturing toward the keyless entry lock.
"No. It was here before us."
"Do you have the instructions on changing the code?"
"Um... yeah. Why?"
His eyes narrow as he casts a glare in my direction.
"Where?"
I point to the small table's drawer beside me, and he cracks his neck to the side before walking up and jerking the drawer open. In a few seconds, he's reading through the manual for my keyless entry lock.
"What are you doing?" I ask, eyeing him like he's crazy as the hairless kitten starts running through my house again.
Seriously, what am I going to do with that thing? Damn Drake Sterling.
"Changing your code so that Drake doesn't have it anymore. Why the hell does he even have it anyway?"
He doesn't even look up from the instruction book.
"Um... He helped me move Nicki into Nas's house. Why are you changing my code without permission?"
"Because the only guy who should have your fucking code is me."
Is that jealousy Shawn Carter is displaying again? Or is it just a little bit of possessiveness? And why do I find it cute?
"Hmm," I say, pulling one of his hands away and making a dramatic show of studying it.
"What are you doing?" he asks as I grab his other hand that is still clinging to the book.
My eyes stay on his hand as I answer. "Looking for scabs," I state as though it's obvious.
"Why?" he drawls, sounding as though I'm the crazy one.
"Because you sound like a guy who is still dragging his knuckles," I say while looking back up, batting my lashes at him with a sweet smile on my lips. "If you pull a club out of your loin cloth, we're going to have problems."
He grunts, which only feeds my Neanderthal angle, and I arch an eyebrow as if to say as much. He rolls his eyes and resumes his lock research, ignoring my vocal and silent barb.
He walks away, moving toward the door, and a series of beeps sound out as he reprograms the lock.
"Why did you cancel on my parents' dinner?" he asks, not looking at me as he continues his task.
"I didn't," I say, confused.
"Yeah, you did."
"No, I didn't. I made a joke. A dirty joke."
He looks utterly bewildered when he shuts the door and switches the lock into place.
"Does Jane get the new code, Tarzan?"
"What dirty joke?" he asks instead of playing along.
"You asked if I was coming at dinner. Not to dinner."
His eyebrows go up, and I grin. "I thought coming at a family dinner needed a little more relationship development first. Of course I'm coming to dinner. I like your mother, and she's going to show me a lot of really embarrassing pictures of you."
That earns me a groan, and he rakes a hand through his hair while shaking his head.
"Thanks for coming to my rescue, by the way. I'll kill Drake later for sneaking that damn cat in here. Need a kitten?" I ask him, grinning.
He doesn't smile though as he looks over at me. Nope. That's not a man in the mood for jokes. He looks hungry... Actually, he looks starved.
Heat blooms across my chest, and my core contracts as I stare into those dark eyes. My bottom lip folds between my teeth as I lose all the humor I was clinging to moments ago.
"You haven't been dodging me?" he asks.
Confused, I shake my head. "No. I've been busy, and I'm working on something special for your mother. She seems really sweet, and I wanted to do something nice for her. It's taken me longer than I thought it would."
He takes a step closer, looking more like a predator than the cocky jerk he usually is.
"And it hasn't bothered you to just not see me all week?" he muses, but it sounds like he's daring me to say the wrong thing.
It's been three days... But yes, it's driven me insane.
Telling him that I'm intentionally trying not to think about him is probably not the best answer. But since he took such good care of me when I was sick, I've found myself disturbingly getting attached too much too soon. So maybe a step back was needed to get my head right.
I don't confess that. I don't say anything at all.
"Beyoncé?" he prompts.
"Yes," I finally say quietly.
"Yes what?" he asks, moving another step closer. Then another.
"Yes, it's bothered me."
That's apparently what he wants to hear, because he's suddenly on me, pushing me against the wall as his mouth descends on mine, kissing me like he can't stop himself. His tongue invades, and I kiss him back with just as much pent-up frustration and need.
I moan into his mouth as he rips my shirt up, only releasing my lips long enough to get the shirt over my head. His hands run down my bare skin before catching the hooks of my bra and stripping them open. As my bra slides to the floor, I reach for the bottom of his shirt, still kissing him and struggling to do two tasks at once.
He leans back and helps me tug his shirt over his head, tossing it aside as he bends and captures a nipple in his mouth without warning. My eyes cross, and my hands immediately go to his shoulders, clutching him.
We've been skipping foreplay, because we're both too greedy for the main event. Just this tiny amount of buildup is already driving me insane. I'm used to being thrown against the wall and taken by now. Instead, my nipples are ice-cutting hard, and Shawn is driving me insane with them, swapping his attention from one to the other.
He makes some carnal noise in the back of his throat before his lips leave my breasts and find my lips again. His hands are everywhere, exploring me like he's committing everything to memory.
I don't even notice him taking off my pants until they're missing, along with my underwear. When he lifts me, I expect him to take me against whatever hard surface is closest, but he carries me toward my room instead.
The sounds of a wild kitten running around behind us barely even register when he kicks the door shut, still holding me as his lips consume me. With a slow, methodical grace, he lowers me to the bed, coming down with me as he continues to kiss away every thought I've ever had.
By the time he breaks his lips away from mine, I'm a panting mess beneath him, completely turning to mindless mush just from a kiss. He leans up, raking his eyes over me in scandalous appraisal, and my entire body heats. When his lips come back down, they connect with the sensitive skin on my neck, and he slowly works his way down, kissing me almost reverently, as though he's tasting every bit of flesh as he slides down my body with an agonizingly slow pace.
Considering the rough, urgent sex we've been having, this pace is almost killing me, because he's taking his time, kissing my skin as though he's planning to make this last all night.
By the time he makes it down to my lower body, I'm squirming in need, almost desperate to take over and end the suspense, but he holds me down like he can hear my inner thoughts. His lips fasten onto my clit with zero warning, and surprise melds with pleasure like a shot of heat through my body.
Some unintelligible noise passes my lips, and I buck against him as praise comes out of my lips in the form of nonsensical gibberish. He growls, and the vibrations only add to the intensity as he devours me, holding me down and forcing me to take all of his sensual assault without mercy.
It's too real, too powerful, and too mind-blowing to form words when the pressure builds in my core and crackles across me with explosive power. I try to arch, but he continues holding me, forcing me to experience every ounce of pleasure at its most intense peak.
Stars detonate behind my eyelids, and I must blackout for a second, because when my eyes lazily open again, Shawn is slowly working his way back up my body, kissing the overly sensitized skin on my body and eliciting a small shudder from me.
When his lips seal over mine, I moan into his mouth. I'm not sure when he got rid of his jeans, but he's bare between my legs when he thrusts in deep, taking me slowly, sinking in as far as he can.
I'm a little addicted to Shawn Carter even more now than I was before.