Page 96 of Disrespectfully, Relic

“Stop whining and take this dick like a good bitch. Let me show you why you ain’t ever going no-fucking-where, Larenn.”

Relic crushed his mouth against hers, muffling her shouting as he gripped the chair for leverage to pound her harder. He was determined to rearrange her guts, so she’d think about him anytime the next nigga hit who couldn’t reach as far as him or make her bust like his favorite pistol. Her pussy convulsing and spitting fluids on his stomach told him that she loved that rough shit.

“Good girl,” he grumbled, peeling off his damp shirt before staring into her eyes. Relic caught the flicker of surprise when his evil eye chain dangled above her head.

Kennedy gripped the nape of his neck and pulled him down for a sloppy kiss as their bodies rocked together like the waves against his boat. When she planted a hand on his ass to coax him deeper, Relic clenched her throat and glared in her eyes while long stroking her drenched pussy.

“You’re fucking with my head, Larenn.” His strokes hastened and shaft swelled with his impending release as he threatened, “Fuck me over, and I’ll kill you. You hear me, Kennedy? I will kill yo ass dead.”

She pecked his lips and stared him dead in the eyes. “Ditto, nigga.”

Her threat sent him to his peak—his forehead resting on hers while their bodies battled to fuck each other the best until he erupted with her clinging to his waist. She held him to ensure he didn’t pull out. Kennedy came behind him with soft whimpers and her legs twitching as Relic slithered his tongue into her gaped mouth. They kissed like they couldn’t get enough of each other until he pulled back to give her a breather.

“Slip your pants on while I moor the boat. We won’t be here long, but you can shower in my cabin while I grab a few things. Get the folder, too.”

“Where are we?”

Kennedy sat up to take in her surroundings. Her brows dipped when she saw nothing but trees for acres, and a few more docks that were so far in the distance that she doubted Relic had met their owners. She stood and grabbed her jeans, shimmying into them while Relic tucked himself back inside his boxers without replying. She left it alone since she refused to ask twice.

Once she was presentable, Relic guided her off the boat and then began grabbing rope to wrap around metal horn-looking pieces on its edge. She watched, admiring the flex of his arms and back muscles, while the dip in his spine looked good enough to lick the sweat off. Relic was the most virile man she’d met. Kennedy could easily see him as a husband, fixing things around his home or building treehouses for the kids. Her gut clenched because she doubted that he craved any of it, but she could see it in her future, whether with him or not.

“This should be good for the time being,” he stated, more so to himself while tugging at the end of the rope he’d tied around a wooden post.

He dusted his hands before palming the small of her back, urging her toward the thicket of trees when she hesitated. Kennedy peered around in search of land markers while Relic directed her as if he knew the area like the back of his hand. Darkness and the noisy critters rattled her nerves until the trees opened to a cleared space of land with a single cabin on the lot. She stayed a few steps behind Relic as he gaited straight to the door and tapped the small screen attached before placing his fingerprints against it. It shined green before the locks clicked, unlatching themselves.

“Well, aren’t you fancy,” she bantered as he opened the door and stepped inside. He flicked on the lights, and she frowned at the barren space housing a single couch, a coffee table, and nothing more.

“That’s about the only thing fancy about it.”

“Yea, I see.”

He chuckled while shutting and locking the door behind him. “It isn’t meant for entertainment. I put just enough furniture in here to where it wouldn’t seem suspicious, and I can nap here if necessary. This is my repository.”

“Repository as in stash house where the money and product move in and out? Don’t tell me, you’re about to try to fuck me on a floor mattress with no sheets.”

“We’ll sleep on the boat, smart ass. Stop worrying about useless furniture and enjoy the peace here. Take it in. There’s towels and washcloths in the bathroom, and a few things in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

“I could eat.”

“Good. Hurry up and wash your ass, so you can whip us up a meal.”

“I bet you fucking starve,” she quipped, slapping his folder against his bare chest before strutting off without asking for a tour or directions.

Relic let her, waiting until he heard the bathroom door shut and water running before he strolled to his kitchen. He tossed the file on the counter and then squatted to feel underneath his counter cabinet—shutting the cell jammer stored there off and then grabbing his signal booster to plug in before setting it on the counter. As soon as it lit with a connection, he fished out his new burner phone to call Drish.

“Who this?” Drish answered on the first ring.

“The only one you should be taking calls from right now. What’s that situation looking like?”

“Like you were spot on ‘bout that shit. Is what you told me to do still a go?”

Relic expelled a breath, pinching his nose before his eyes flitted in the direction Kennedy disappeared to. Muthafuckas always found a way to put him between a rock and a hard place.

“I’m out of loopholes at this point. It’s a go.”

He ended the call with that order and dropped his phone into his pocket before storing his equipment back in its rightful place. Once done, he searched the kitchen for a quick meal to busy his mind, settling on potatoes he’d found in another cabinet and two T-bone steaks from the freezer. The skeleton designated for Kennedy, that usually minded its business, went on a rampage in Relic’s internal closet while he turned on the oven to pre-heat it. He located his skillet after a quick search and set it on the counter, grabbed a knife, and then cut his potatoes into thick slices. After washing everything off once prepped, he loaded the steaks and potatoes into the skillet, seasoned it down, and slipped it inside the oven. His gaze shifted to his folder the instant he wasn’t occupied.

He paused to listen and ensured the water was still running before he flipped it open, flicking through the pages until locating the one that would incriminate him most in Kennedy’s eyes. He snatched it out. As he searched around the cabin for a lighter, he racked his brain on how that petty incident had come up in his case. Only one option came to mind.

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