Death of Lydia (BWWM ON HOLD)

5

C H A P T E R 5
THE ROOM

THE private room she dragged him in was in its usual sinfully red state. Red leather couch, red tiles, red cushions, red chairs, checkered red, and pink walls.

Adam eyed the room warily he couldn't help but squint his lids as his mind reeled to distinguish the shadows within the current space that was needed to separate what from what.

"Ava.. " Adam began- he was trying to get answers that's what he needed yet as he gazed at the thick woman in front of him who sat him on the couch, the clarity of his thoughts began the downward trode precariously. "I came for answers.. " straightening his body Ava ignored him as she sat on his thighs straddling his waist, hand in his waved head with a tantalizing melody she gently massaged his temples.

Her silky accent waved through the room soothing his soul " Then talk my love, talk."

With skill and precision, Adam- the chief of police; wrapped his arm around her waist squeezing gently her fat glutes as he brought her closer. Head buried in her bosom it reminded him of the time they spent together before she fell off of the face of the earth before returning only four years back. He hadn't questioned it, seeing her record in Massachusetts proved she was up to no good it was a past she never dwelled in and a past he never asked. As the swells of her breast moved with every breath she took, it took too long for Adam to reel his thoughts back to the agenda at hand.

"Ava" he said warningly as he felt her hand trailing light circles around her arm "Answers"

"To what questions ?" Her head tilted to the side as she felt his tongue dart out to lick her flesh. She knew he was playing a game, a game they were both all too familiar with since they were teens. A game of seduction.

"Your relationship with Monte" he asked as he gripped her ass tighter spreading them apart in a circular motion, kneading her flesh.

Only one man other than the one before her could make her crave manly attention this much, the way they danced in tune with her body was something both men could provide that it made her dizzy. Breathlessly she responds "Non- existent"

2018 Washington D.C

The President looked through the window in the dead of the night waiting for the woman he hadn't seen for the past three years he'd sent his people to seek her out. Its been like this ever since she left. That is, him staring out the window at a certain time of everynight hoping to see the stillouette of her body walk past or perched on the benches in the garden. Her expertise within his security force was needed, her expertise in touch was one he craved the most. Yet she was still on a mission, he hadn't known if it was a true mission or a mere kink of hers she was in dire need to relieve. But as he stared at the picture of her, of his Lydia Ava, lead assassin within the S.S.S, trained killer; scaling the poles of a strip club, he knew she was either in deep shit or in deeper shit.

If he wasn't the President of the free world he would've gripped her by the arm and pulled her over his leg once in a secluded office. He would've taught her how he felt about the mission she was on showing what was his, showing the body he once marred in sacred kisses only she could extract from him. Yet as he flipped through pictures, the scenic veiw conjuring lust with every swipe, the hunger he felt stirred awake the manhood within his pants. He couldn't help but trail the outlines of her bossom that was barely covered as he remembered what it was like to suck and be nourished from them. She was thicker, a thought he hadn't known he would've adored so much. She had changed over the three years. For better or for worse wasn't his to decide at the moment.

"I want her in my bed tomorrow even if you have to gag her, chain her up and bring her back "

♤

WORD COUNT
713

● Short chapter, just to start the book in a new direction