50 Shades of Drake 5 and 6

More Life: Chapter Forty-Four

    Karissa Dalton grabbed the last of the grocery bags from the backseat of her compact SUV, then kicked the door closed with her foot. A breeze picked up, blowing her locs behind her shoulders. She peered over the top of the car towards her apartment building. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but without any hands free she had to let the call go.

    By the time she reached her apartment building, she was nearly out of breath. A short elevator trip and another short walk later, and she was ready to collapse. After magically finding a way to unlock the apartment door while heavy grocery bags hung from her hands, she pushed the door open with an elbow and slowly made her way inside. Damn, and I thought I was in good shape.

    "Is that you, baby?" A tall, brown-skinned man appeared in the kitchen entrance.

    She rolled her dark brown eyes. "Don't call me 'baby' when I texted you twenty minutes ago that I was on my way home," she muttered, lugging the bags into the kitchen. "You were supposed to help me bring this shit in." 

    "Oh, shit. I'm sorry, baby. I was up in Call of Duty. My team was depending on me."

    While lowering the bags onto the kitchen counter and stovetop, she rolled her eyes. "Nice to know who you prioritize," she muttered. "Maybe your team can be the one who fucks you tonight, too."

    Laughing, he raised both hands, palms facing outward. "Hey, hey, now."

    He's too fucking comfortable in this relationship. Silently, she started putting groceries away.

    Quiet footsteps sounded behind her and then arms were sliding around her waist. "I really am sorry, baby. Next time just call me from the parking lot. I'll come right down."

    "Hmph." 

    His hands slid beneath her shirt.

    "Will you turn the TV on or something and get on?" she demanded, pushing him back and waving him away. "It's time for me to get dinner started."

    He had the audacity to look hurt. Men. 

    She watched him turn and hunt down the remote control in the living room. A moment later, entertainment news co-hosts could be heard bantering. Karissa returned to putting away groceries.

    Slow to catch hints, he returned to the kitchen. "Hey. Let me finish putting those away."

    He didn't have to tell her twice. She exited the kitchen and sat on their living room couch, only half-listening to whatever Taylor Swift had going on. 

    Her boyfriend joined her on the couch and timidly covered her hand with his.

    She fought the urge to smile. Here he goes, testing his limits to see how pissed off I am at his ass. 

    Since she didn't knock his top off at the hand-holding, he amped it up a notch and leaned in to kiss her on the neck. 

    "Just because I'm letting you kiss me, doesn't mean I forgive you or anything," she warned him just as her eyes fluttered closed. "I'm tired of you thinking you're too pretty to have to do shit around here."

    "Too pretty?" he said, pulling back and staring at her.

    "You act like you're prettier than me sometimes," she told him. "Thinking you can breeze in here, play your fucking games every night and then have me give you some top before bed. What the hell do you think this is?"

    His mouth set into a straight line. 

    "You don't have a defense cause there is none."

    "I should do more," he admitted. 

    "And spend more time with your girl, instead of those little Call of Duty kids you be playing with," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

    He leaned in close again, planting more kisses on her neck, then moving them upward to her cheek. "And spend more time with my baby," he said with his lips right next to her ear.

    She shivered. "Ugh, I hate you." Before she knew it, her hands were roaming through his short, curly hair and she was allowing him to lie her down.

    Positioning himself on top of her, he dipped his head down and kissed her lips.

    "...And now onto our big breaking story of the evening - and possibly of the week - a famous couple's sex tape has been leaked to the public. That's not even the craziest part of the story. Trish?"

    "Thanks, Steve. Multimedia mogul Aubrey Graham has found himself in hot water again, as a very steamy video of his has been leaked." 

    Karissa's boyfriend went stiff in her arms. "What?" she asked him.

    "What's really wild about this story is, the woman in the video with him was journalist Destiny Richards who you may remember, passed away. The two were romantically linked prior to her passing. We are still awaiting further details to this wild story. We're unable to tell how old the video is or who released it. But this breaking story has taken over social media and the air waves, due to Aubrey Graham's worldwide popularity."

    Karissa's boyfriend raised his head and peered at the TV screen. Becoming increasingly irritated, she sat up. "Jordan? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

    Jordan glanced down at her.

    She turned her attention to the TV screen and gasped. The woman shown on the screen could have been her identical twin, if it wasn't for Karissa's locs. "Who the fuck is that?" she cried out, noticing that there was a birth date and death date posted beneath the woman's photo.

    "My ex," Jordan said, a haunted look darkening his eyes.