Page 3 of Ms. Mosley

I nodded slowly, loving her response. She had me hypnotized by the way she spat that shit. “I hear that, beautiful.”

She bristled at the compliment.

“So, please show me the same courtesy. This is my career… my livelihood. If someone overhears you speaking to me like this or sees you being this close, they could misinterpretthings and report it. That could be disastrous for me. The rumors, the gossip… it could all destroy my reputation. All my years of hard work flushed down the drain because a lie always sounds better than the truth. Do you want to do that to me?”

I hesitated, biting down on my bottom lip. No doubt, I expected her to fight me on this. However, I did not prepare for her to respond with such intelligence. Ms. Mosley was lethal—both physically and mentally.

What I really wanted to say was… fuck this job. If she lost it, I had no problem with taking care of her for the rest of her life. You see, I had marked her as mine at this very moment, and being mine meant that working was a choice, not an obligation. Unfortunately, I knew she wouldn’t be receptive to that, so I held back.

“Nah, the feeling is mutual. I wouldn’t wanna bring any harm to ya, beautiful.”

chapter two.

Nia’Rose

“Then please, stop what you’re doing.” I pleaded, feeling the seat of my panties grow moist.

My words might have been firm, but every inch of my body was betraying me, leaving me shaken to my core. Why was I allowing myself to slip like this? Why was I letting him get this close? I knew better. But as Prosper looked back at me with that hooded gaze, the answer became crystal clear. He was a sight for sore eyes—so captivating that he could make even the toughest woman bend, ready to risk it all. That woman was me.

For the longest time, I tried to avoid viewing him in that way, but now he was making it increasingly difficult. Tall, with rich dark skin, a tapered fade, and thick beard that highlighted the bottom gold grill in his mouth, Prosper undeniably was dreamy. And if we had met under different circumstances, I might’ve ignored our large age gap and fallen for his charm. It could’ve been just what I needed to relieve some of the pain I felt inside.

However, that wasn’t the hand life had dealt me. He was my student, and he had a record. I knew this because I learned that he had recently completed jail time and probation for acharge related to the possession of an illegal firearm just before the school year began.

The flashy, diamond-encrusted jewelry he wore hinted at the possibility that he might have been involved in something highly illegal to acquire it all. The Cuban chain around his neck alone was worth several times my salary. I wasn’t judging him, but there was absolutely nothing I could do with a possible gangster either. I had worked too hard, dedicating myself through college to earn my degree, and I refused to jeopardize my job and reputation for a temporary thrill.

"Please,” I begged once more before I agreed to something that could turn my entire world upside down even more. “You need to go.”

With a resigned expression, Prosper pushed himself up from my desk. I was still reeling from his boldness of sitting there. Granted, I had sensed his crush on me but never in a million years did I think he would act on those emotions. I for damn sure never thought he would come off this strong either.

Then again, Prosper was crazy. I’d realized this when he went ape shit on another male student who had disrespected me quite some time ago. And I must say, even then, his boldness both intrigued and unsettled me.

Proving my point about his insanity, he stepped closer and placed his hands on either side of me, effectively pinning me against the board. His imposing figure loomed over my smaller frame, enveloping me like a predator cornering its prey. He whispered,

“In a perfect world, you would’ve agreed to let me take you out and I would’ve made you so happy that you’d forget whatever it is that fuck nigga did that keeps you in shambles. But I don’t wanna get you in no shit, so I’ma fall back,for now.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. There was a reckless sincerity in his tone, and for a moment, I could almostpicture what he described—a night free from worries, filled with laughter and genuine connection. Something I hadn’t felt in a while and severely needed.

My mouth parted to speak, but I couldn’t seem to form one word. His top teeth that were visible were perfectly straight and white, pulling me into a deep trance. This young man was absolutely beautiful. Rugged—but indeed beautiful. And his breath smelled incredible. Crazy work.

Prosper turned and walked away with those long, bowed legs and as soon as he disappeared from view, I released the breath I had been holding. Talk about shambles… he’d left my panties in disarray.

∞∞∞

Later that night.

Martin:Can you pick up your phone for me?

Martin:That bitch told me she messaged you this morning and I just want to apologize to you, Nia.

Martin:So, you’re just going to ignore me?

Martin:Come on. I fucked up but we’re better than this. We can make it work. Just tell me where you at and I’ll come by so we can talk.

Glancing down, I sighed, feeling a wave of frustration washing over me. All day the relentless barrage of text messages had lit up my screen. It was time to take a more definitive step. Instead of ignoring the thread as I normally did, I decided to block the number. It was a move I should have made long ago.

The moment I confirmed that the number was blocked, I lifted my wine glass and downed the last bittersweet remnants. With that behind me, I headed for a long, hot shower to wash away the tension. With so many things tossed my way, today had been rough.

Underneath the cascading water, I couldn’t help but chastise myself for enduring my past relationship for as long as I did. Prosper was right. There was a fuck nigga that had left me heartbroken, and his name was Martin Johnson—my ex. The last few of the eight years we spent together I grappled with hurt, depression, and tears. Things had been decent between us until they weren’t.

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