A Test of Love: Interracial Erotic Romance (Chasing Love) (17 page)

“Her survival is what intrigues me the most.” I finished pouring the scotch into my glass, strolled over to the binder, flipped it open, and gazed at Jasmine’s college graduation picture. It was dangerous to do this in front of Dawn. Look too much, drool even. I couldn’t help it back then. Something drew me to Jasmine, something primal and raw that triggered me to do the unexpected and abnormal.

Dawn cleared her throat. “I think she’ll know her place.”

With my finger on the picture, I traced the curve of Jasmine’s lips. “Meaning?”

Dawn slid the binder away from my hands. “She’ll know her position in our arrangement. Not like the other ones. They never understood.”

I didn’t grab for the binder. It would’ve been too much. Dawn didn’t deserve the blatant disrespect, and without her approval, Jasmine coming into our arrangement wouldn’t happen. Wendy’s vote always leaned on Dawn’s side. Lucy never enjoyed being the only man out, so she went with the group. Everything balanced on Dawn. I had to approach the situation with caution, not show my interest in Jasmine too much. I could never reveal the addiction that was slowly building in my core. I’d already been falling for her before the day of the interview. Her guards updated me on Jasmine’s movements and delivered daily images of her taking care of ordinary tasks. The running pictures made me hard. She stormed up that hill as if she were a knight and a dragon lay on the other side.

“So what do you think, Chase?” Dawn pushed me out of my thoughts. “Will this one understand her position?”

“I’m not sure if Jasmine will know her place or not. Let’s remember. This isn’t a ranking system.”

“How could it not be? You and I have been together for so many years. Have I not earned the right to be higher than the others?”

Not this again. No matter how many times I buy her something with the number one on it, she’ll still gripe about her placement in my life.

“I don’t like the ranking system,” I said. “How do you think the other women feel?”

“That’s not my concern. They’re agreeing to this and getting a good bit of comfort in the process. They only need to worry about respecting my rules and pleasing you.”

“They’re not pets or sex toys, Dawn. They’re human beings with their own minds, voices, needs—”

“They are sex toys.” She grabbed the binder and rose. “Every one of them. Little toys in our life that can be replaced, misused, or broken.” She gestured to her and then me. “We’re the primary relationship. The rest of them are just coming and going.”

I took a big gulp of my scotch. We’d had arguments like this before. There was no need to go back and forth on the same topic when Dawn was set in her beliefs, and I on mine.

“Benny won’t be happy with this.” Dawn made her way over to the bar. “Are you sure you want to go after his daughter?”

“That’s probably the icing on the cake.”

“Will you tell her that he’s her father?”

There were a lot of things I’d hoped to do with and to Jasmine, but discussing Benny wasn’t one of them. “Yes. I’ll tell her one day.”

“So Dawn had problems with Vicky?” Jasmine pulled me out of that day.

“Vicky didn’t know her place, according to Dawn.”

“Excuse me?”

“Vicky battled with depression all of her life. In her late twenties, she’d been diagnosed as bipolar. Our therapist advised against adding her to our arrangement. I overrode it.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t think it was a problem. I planned on providing her with the best team of therapists that money could buy. That had been my understanding. Once Vicky moved in, Dawn refused to have her go to any other therapist but our main one. I didn’t know about that until after she died. I think Vicky was afraid to tell on Dawn.”

If she’d only just said something, maybe I could’ve protected her.

“Because she was depressed, Vicky took up more of my time. I felt bad for her and tried to be there any time she needed me. This cut into Dawn’s time.”

“Lucy told me that because of Vicky, you put in a mental health evaluation when scanning for candidates to be your girlfriend,” Jasmine said.

“Yes. It’s hard enough being with all of these people together in one house and maintaining mental stability. To come in with depression problems is to disrupt your brain. Plus, I didn’t want another person to commit suicide.”

“You still think she committed suicide?”

“Part of me hopes so. One of them has been killing for a long time. I can’t deal with this.” I held Jasmine close to me. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“I’m enjoying this.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, you should know your place.” She stuck out her tongue. “I’m the head boss now. I say finish or be punished.”

My already hard dick stiffened even more. At this rate, I’d be straddling the line of rape and seduction if she kept ordering me any further. Jasmine had a way with me, something that no other could achieve. She knew how to talk to me and make my flesh go wild. Even worse, I doubted this was her intention. She was just being herself.

Pulling her in even closer so that her face was an inch from mine, I landed a kiss on Jasmine’s forehead. “You’re my Yoko Ono. You make me delirious. You make me want to give it all up for you.”

“Yoko? Isn’t that the chick who broke up the Beatles?”

“Yes.”

She yawned. “So you’re saying I broke up your band?”

I smacked her behind. “Pretty much.”

“Didn’t people hate Yoko Ono?”

“Well, yeah. That was a different time. There were so many reasons people said they hated her.”

“What were some of them?”

I chuckled. “I read Paul’s bio. He claimed that John and Yoko spent almost every minute together. When they recorded Abbey Road, she had a bed moved into the studio so she could sit next to him as he sang.”

“That’s intense, but no reason for fans to hate her.”

“Yeah, but according to Paul, the band had all agreed never to have women in the studio. What made it worse was that John always depended on her opinions whenever he played on the record.”

“I bet race played a part in it. You know? For why the fans hated her so much. Those were rough times.”

“Yeah. Some of the jokes and statements about Yoko during those years touched on the fact that she was Asian. I hate to admit it, but if she were white, there might’ve never been a problem with her at all.”

“Yep. Bands always break up after a while. At least most groups. I imagine it’s difficult dealing with all those personalities.”

Prior arguments with Dawn and Wendy flashed in my head. “I get that. Having three girlfriends at once gave me weekly headaches. Once I started boxing and having someone to punch, the aches left, but the stress always continued.”

She stared at me for a moment in silence as if pondering what I’d said.

What are you thinking about, little treasure?

Finally she broke the quiet of our bedroom. “Who gave you the most trouble?”

“Dawn.”

“Who gave you the least?”

“Lucy.”

She twisted her lips to the side.

“What are you wondering?” I asked.

“I have no idea. I’m just trying to grab for clues.”

“You’re always on the case,
Folombo
?”

“
Folombo
?”

“I’m stealing Vivian’s trick and calling you a fake Colombo.”

“Please don’t take that from her. It’s the dumbest thing ever.”

“You’re just jealous that I burned you.”

“Sure.” She sucked her teeth. “So tell me more about your time as a harem leader or should I just say pimp?”

I had to kiss her. “I sort of like the word pimp when you’re directing it toward me.”

“I bet you do.”

I slid my hands down the outline of her curvy body. God sculpted women for the main goal of taunting the hell out of men, and Jasmine’s body relentlessly teased and lured me into a twisted addiction. Her love was the purest cocaine. Anytime I couldn’t taste her, I remained strung and depleted, lost and defeated. “Take off your clothes.”

“No.” She stuck her tongue out. Growling, I dove for it and encased that wet length in my mouth, not willing to let go until she groaned. And she did, so loud my cock twitched in my pants.

My probation ends today.

I rubbed my length against her thigh. She arched my way a little. That told me all I needed to know. I directed my hands under her gown, massaging every inch of her thick thighs. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“No. You’re going to fuck your hand.”

“
Tesoro
, I don’t touch myself. It’s beneath me.”

A vibrant laugh fled her lips. “God, you’re so spoiled.”

“Am I?”

With hooded eyes, she whispered, “You’re not getting any sex, bratty boy.”

“Touch it for me.” I rubbed against her.

“No. You’re on probation.”

“My cock says different.” I nibbled at her neck. She couldn’t help moaning. That lovely sound incited my body to react. My length jumped. The tip warmed.
We’ll be inside her soon.
My heartbeats increased. Forget cocaine, Jasmine was heroin or something even worse. My veins buzzed with energy. Fog filled my head. All I could think of was her flesh in my hands.

If I could devour her, I would. I’d eat every bit away so no one else could have her.

“This is a very dangerous thing,
tesoro
. On one hand, you’re doing a decent job of handling me. I
am
learning my place. On the other hand”—I captured her skin with my mouth and sucked hard until she groaned. “Well, on the other hand, when I finally enter you, I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll forget all the beautiful work you’ve done. I’ll own you again with my cock.”

Shivering, she climbed out of my arms. “Are you done?”

The words were bold, but her body screamed that she was shaken.

You’re getting pretty bad at hiding your true emotions from me.

“Where are you going?” I asked as she pulled away.

“To take a shower.” She got out of bed.

“No. You’ll take a shower, after I’m done.”

“You’re delusional.” She stood by the bed, searching for her robe. I leaped for her. Shrieking, she jumped to the right.
Too slow, tesoro.
I trapped her in my hands and yanked that lush body back down to the bed. The headboard hit the wall. Our bodies bounced on the mattress as she struggled and giggled. “You’re absolutely cuckoo!”

“It’s time to show you what
tesoro
means.” Her gown’s material was so thin, I could rip it with ease, and I did. Tearing sounded in the space. Her breathing increased and mingled with the noise from the ripping.

She was mine.

Her body knew it; her mind would too, eventually. She couldn’t keep me from her flesh, only do her best to deter me. It was a possibility that could never happen for too long. Her body was my food. It nurtured me, kept my head at ease and my emotions stable. Without it, I would go blind and probably fall into seizures. That separation from her weeks ago had shown me enough. I’d lay in the back seat of my limo, staring at her window with trembling hands like a junkie slumped in the corner of an alley, waiting for his next fix.

“Probation ends today.” I wrenched away the rest of the gown, exposing her big breasts. They wiggled with the force of my ripping, chocolate nipples jiggling on top of almond pillows. “Holy mother of God, your titties should have caution stickers on top of each one.” I lapped at the first nipple. “One right here.” I sucked on the other. “And one right here.”

My lioness purred. Yet, I didn’t relax. I could never lose focus with my treasure. If she were too badly shaken, the claws could come out, and then I’d truly be on probation. I flipped her over.

“What are you doing?” she screeched.

“Put that lovely ass in the air.”

“Why when my ass will be teasing you?” She attempted to crawl away.

I smacked her body. Murmuring her delight, she stayed. I laughed. “You want this cock as much as I want to give it to you. Don’t you?”

“No.”

Now who’s lying?

I freed my erection from my pants. “Look at what you do to me.”

With her behind up in the air and her head lying on the bed, she glanced back at me. “You did that to yourself.”

“Ah, says the horny woman with her ass high and waiting.” I captured that big beautiful bottom. Those cheeks were pillows in satin flesh. I could never squeeze too much or linger for too long. I slid one hand down to the center where her panties were moist. “Hmmm. Why are you so wet?”

“I’ve been thinking about my other man.”

Tread carefully, tesoro. I’m not that sane.

“What’s his name?” I slipped a finger inside of the panty’s lining.

“Why would I tell—” Her words ended once my finger met her velvety flesh.

All discussion ceased.

What came next was a symphony of pleasure-filled murmurs. I added another finger and let them travel in and out her slick path, so soft I feared I would touch too hard, so wet, I yearned to lap her arousal up with my tongue.

“What’s his name?” I destroyed those panties, shredded them as if they’d done my family and me harm. Both hands ripped them away and slung fabric off the bed. I had to expose her, had to see that fat cunt, bare and spread open for me.

“Chase,” she moaned.

“No,
tesoro
. That’s
my
name. What’s this man’s name?” I lowered myself until my face was on the same level with that drenched pussy. Those two folds stared back at me, plump and dripping. Even during our separation, she’d maintained the wax.

I can eat you for breakfast with nothing in my way.

“What’s this man’s name who had you so wet?” I blew against her pussy.

Purring, she grabbed at the sheets in front of her. “Oh, Chase, lick it, baby.”

“Lick it? But I’m on probation.” I delivered a long lap to her center, starting at her throbbing bud and ending at her tight little anus. Again, she shrieked. I could tell no one had ever done it like that to her. She could barely keep herself up as I swiped at her again, in long strokes, dipping my tongue wherever I could.