Memphis Streets 3: Revenge

Chapter 51- Brielle

"Shhh, baby. Stop crying," Dice says, gathering me into his arms. "Everything is going to be all right." I close my eyes and allow him to pepper the top of my head with kisses.

As much as I love the warmth of his body, I can't stop my tears from washing his chest. "I think I made a mistake," I blurt out.

Dice pulls back and looks at me confused. "Maybe I should go back to the Douglases. I never wanted it to go down the way it did. They have done so much for me. They believed in me when no one else did. I can't help but feel there has to be a better way to handle this situation."

Dice gently places his hands on both sides of my face and then tilts it up so that he can look me in the eye. "You're just upset. You had a bad dream. It's going to be all right."

"Yes, but—"

"No buts. Your folks don't understand us. They don't want to understand. They're too heated over what they think they know." That doesn't make me feel any better.

"Look, baby. We'll just give them some time. They love you, they'll come around."

"I don't know. I've already put them through so much."

"Give it time." Dice kisses the tip of my nose and then releases me and I lay my head back down against his chest so that I can breathe in his scent.

I'm still tryna get used to lying in his bed—in his house—on Ruby Cove. It's another world over here and every Cartel Lord I've crossed looks like they'd rather put a bullet in my head than to speak to me.

"Give them some time," Dice keeps telling me, but I don't think I'll live long enough for any of them to accept me.

But there's a part of me that says "fuck them." I'm not here for them. I'm here because my place is beside my man.

Dice presses me back against his cotton sheets and feeds himself from my hungry lips. His hands are as soft as feathers as they drift down the side of my body and roam over the curves of my hips. Some ugly images try to surface, but Dice's tenderness keeps them at bay.

Days ago, I thought that I could never be intimate with a man again. I couldn't imagine my body wanting a man to enter where there had been so much pain. But here I am, unable to get enough of all that Dice has to offer. I'm drunk from the taste of him and the feeling of him stretching me open has me high. We're not fucking. We're making love—on a level that I never knew existed.

He understands me. He loves me. He is me. We are one. I lose track of time as each stroke drives me closer to insanity. The tears rolling from my eyes go from sadness to joy. I never want this to end. I never want to climb out of this bed, out of his arms— ever again. The whole world can go to hell with all its heartaches and pain. When our lips finally rip apart, Dice buries his head in the crook of my neck. He can barely hold back his release.

I can tell by the way his body tenses that's he waiting for me. My body quakes. In no time, I'm digging my nails into his back, thrashing my head among the flat pillows. My breath trips up in my throat while out of habit I try to restrain my cries.

"Don't hold back. Let it go," Dice pants, reminding me that my foster parents aren't about to bust in the door. I'm free to fully express myself. Two strokes later, I'm screaming at the ceiling with an explosive release.

Dice follows my lead and releases a roar that almost blasts my eardrum open. I can feel his hot seed explode within me. He collapses until he catches his breath.When he rolls onto his side, he pulls me along with him into a nice, warm cuddle. I don't mean to fall asleep, but I must have because in the next second, I am opening my eyes and the room is pitch dark and Dice's light snoring buzzes in my ears.