TEN
QUEEN & GHOST
TAMPA, FLORIDA
BEYONCE LED HIM AWAY FROM THE GROUP, and onto the rooftop where they were able to see the view of Tampa. He followed behind her, a smug look evident on his face. She had fallen right where he wanted her. It was almost too easy.
Her blonde hair flowed effortlessly in the wind as she leaned against the railing, looking around and enjoying the sense of tranquility. He stayed behind her, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip at the site of her ass in those jeans. She had the perfect curve and when he trailed his eyes down her long legs to her 5-inch stilettos, he could feel himself growing hard. Just a night with her... that's all he begged for. He would have her ass turned inside out and struggling to walk for days. That pretty face of hers would be ruined with his cum and her mascara-stained tears. And he would hold a knife to her throat, her crimson blood cascading down her skin, reminding her her life was in his utter and total control.
"You're a good guy, Trey." Her voice pulled him away from his daze. "You straight?"
"I just-." She rolled her eyes. "I don't know."
"You ain't answer my question?" He asked, sitting on one of the nearby couches. Beyonce faces him, placing her hands on her hips. "Your mouth is your biggest enemy."
"My mouth can do a lot of things, fuck is you talking about?" He spread his hands across the couch, adjusting his crotch. He licked his lips, sending her a wink. "A hell of a lot."
Beyonce felt a shudder travel through her body. She thought her eyes were deceiving her because what she had just witnessed, made her toes curl. She didn't know what she was feeling but all she knew was there was a tingling sensation in her lower body. Trey looked so large so perfect to just... climb on. She shook the unwanted thoughts out of her brain, her eyebrows furrowing together. What exactly was she doing and why was she thinking these sexual feelings towards one of her band members?
"Sit."
Her lips parted and she held her purse tighter. "W-Where?"
"Here?"
"Where's here?"
Trey narrowed his eyes, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. With the look he gave her, she instantly sat down on one of the couches next to his, facing his direction. He chuckled, bringing out a bag of rolled blunts, and her eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
"What it look like I'm doing?" He asked, cupping the end of the blunt and lighting it. He tucked the lighter away, blowing smoke into the air. He leaned back into the couch when he heard the high-pitched voice of Beyonce. "Don't do that in front of me."
"What? You ain't never smoke before?" Trey chuckled and when he realized she wasn't laughing, he suddenly stopped. "Shit, you really never smoked before."
She rolled her eyes. She was always working and she never had time to do
"Alright, pussy."
"I'm not a pussy. You're the fucking pussy." She grabbed the blunt from between his lips and kept her eyes on him, taking a puff. Almost instantly, she coughed and quickly handed it back to him. Trey shook his head playfully as she patted her chest, trying to catch her breath. Finally, she settled down, rolling her eyes.
"Talk to me. What we doing here, Beyonce?"
"You know you can call me something else... something more personal," She assured, her eyes scanning his face. "Like Giselle. It's only appropriate, you're my friend. You've kept it real from the jump."
