The Taylors

Chapter One

"Can I ask you a question?"
Chanel Taylor tried her best to keep her mouth from watering at the sight of him alone. With the smoothest chocolate skin, broad shoulders, sexy goatee, and tall frame, Chanel knew that even her best efforts wouldn't help. That wasn't the only place her juices were starting to flow. Mr. Beautiful leaned across the bar that separated them, gazing into her eyes as if he were searching for her soul. When his light brown eyes fell over her soft breast sitting up so pretty in that little Balmain dress and down to all that ass filling it out behind her, Chanel knew they were most likely thinking the same thing. The bartender, whom had yet to take her order, flashed a 100 watt smile that made Chanel's clit jump. She finally felt the lingering silence between them and realized she completely spaced out for a minute.
"I'm sorry...what?" Chanel asked, trying to shake her head back to reality. However, her eyes were glued to his succulent lips the whole time.
Mr. Beautiful kinda laughed before he replied.
"I said, can I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead," Chanel smiled leaning in a bit further. The club Dj had just switched up the song and the bass seemed to boom even louder.
"If you're single, why is there a ring on your finger?"
She glanced down at the four carat princess cut diamond engagement ring then back at Mr. Beautiful. "Who said I was single?"
"Well that dress is saying everything right now. But you came here alone so I figured..."
"It's there for decoration." Chanel stated simply as she slid her right hand so subtly over her left, ending that part of the conversation.
"Now, can I ask you a question?"
Mr.Beautiful read her eyes before giving her permission to speak. Never had he met a more intriguing woman than Chanel Taylor.
"What times does your shift end?" She asked.
He slowly began to smirk, an expression that matched hers perfectly. Not another word needed to be spoken. Their eyes were having an entire conversation of their own.

Twenty minutes later, she was busy trying to get her key in the door of her luxury home while Mr. Beautiful kept his tongue on the back of her neck. He had introduced himself as Brandon back at the club but Chanel had already forgotten his name. That part wasn't important. After finally getting the door open, Brandon gripped her ass cheeks with both hands, hoisting her in the air as if she was as light as a feather. Chanel wrapped her long silky legs around his back as he carried her across the main foyer to the large wrap around couch in the living room. Brandon gently laid her down while he continued to kiss passion into her lips. She grabbed the bottom of his shirt, lifting it over his head, and admiring his rock hard abs. Chanel felt like she was on a high and drugs were absolutely NOT her thing. It was like she was under his chocolate spell and all she wanted was to taste him.
However, Brandon was clearly thinking the opposite as he pulled that little Balmain dress above her waist. No panties. He licked his lips in anticipation, watching Chanel with her eyes closed as she was squirming and begging for his touch. Brandon pulled her down to him roughly until her pussy was directly in front of those succulent lips that she kept staring at. With the tip of his tongue, he played patty cake with her clit until he covered it with his entire mouth, driving her crazy.
Chanel was getting wetter and wetter. Brandon slid his tongue to her pussy lips where he slipped inside, going deeper and deeper. Her breath got stuck in her throat as she felt the first orgasm take over. She didn't want him to stop so Chanel continued to beg for more. It was getting to the point where his tongue could no longer satisfy her. Chanel was itching for that dick like an addict. With her eyes still closed, she whispered one thing.
"I hope like hell you brought a condom"
Brandon paused for a second, looking up at her. A wicked smile graced his lips right before he felt a sudden puncture in his back that literally took the life out of him.
Chanel was still moaning and squirming for more until she finally realized that Mr. Beautiful was no longer moving.
"Why'd you stop?" She breathed and finally lifted her head to look down at him. All of a sudden, she felt a thick wet substance between her legs and when she reached down Chanel was surprised to find blood all over her hand. She released a gut wrenching scream before the tears began to fall down her cheeks. Feeling her heart beat through her chest, Chanel tried her best to push the corpse off of her and went to get off the couch. That's when an eerie, dark figure emerged from the shadows, his dark eyes glowing like the moon at night. The first thing she noticed was the chrome pistol with silencer equipped in his right hand. Probably because he was pointing it directly in the center of her forehead.
"B-b-baby listen, it's not... It's not-"
"Bitch, I swear to god, don't- just don't say anything to me right now. Don't say a motherfucking thing, Coco."
She cringed at the way he called her by her nickname. There was pure evil in his tone.
This man was the love of her life. Or so she claimed. This man was also a natural born killer. That, she knew was a fact.
"I-I thought you was in Miami till Sunday, babe. You're home early" Coco cried. She couldn't stop the tears from falling. Blinking hard once, she tried to pull herself together and face him. That's when she noticed the tears falling from his eyes, too.
"Anthony, please, baby. It's me, It's Coco. Just put the gun down and-"
"You right, it's you. It's Coco. MY bitch! My future wife. And you had this nigga in my house??!" His hand was sorta shaking as his emotions took over full time. This was a man that hadn't shed a tear in ten years, since his father died. Yet, Chanel (Coco) Taylor had the power to bring him to his knees. He loved her more than life, more than he loved himself. Anthony Harris was a respected hustler well known throughout Atlanta as a nigga not to be fucked with. He lost count of his body count a long time ago. Believe it or not, since meeting Chanel he'd calm down a lot. Being the boss and still calling the shots, he was an O.G that just wanted to settle down with the love of his life, retire with his savings, and have a few kids. Everything was perfect before Anthony left for Miami. Or so he thought. He only came back early to surprise her but in the end, he's the one that got the shock of his life.
"I was at the club. I-I just wanted to get out the house, daddy. It gets lonely when you're not here. I got drunk and I made a mistake. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." Coco continued to cry as her heart went into over drive, running off of fear. She knew how much he truly loved her and was hoping that was enough to get them through this. However, there was a different look in his eyes. Anthony still had the silent tears falling, but the way he looked at her. It was just different. Coco had conned herself out of a lot of shit in her twenty-three years. But this time, this time might be it.
"You said you hope like hell he brought a condom right?" Anthony, the gun still pointed at her forehead, barely spoke above a whisper.
"Baby, noooo. Please, Anthony.." Coco watched in horror as he slowly twisted off the silencer, stepped closer, and kissed the barrel of his pistol to her skin. Coco just kept her eyes closed and her hands up with her face turning red from all the crying.
"Well, I hope like hell you said your prayers, babe. It's time to meet your maker." He cocked the gun back with conviction.
"Noooooo! Anthony, please, if you love me please just stop! I love you so much, I love you so much, I love you so much. Don't do this!"
He listened to her cries and with each tear falling he felt the pieces of his heart breaking. Coco was the one thing that made him happy. A life of crime was all he ever knew. But Coco was his silver lining. Now there's a dark cloud hovering over the both of them ready to rain down.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and faced him again. At first she saw death in his eyes. Now, all she could see was pain. The past 3 years she's been by his side, running away from home just to be with him. She moved across states to follow her love and live the lavish life he provides. Chanel was always draped in Balmain and Moschino apparel, had a maybach and a driver at her disposal, private jets on stand by, a huge mansion in a gated community and of course, endless Chanel bags. Anthony was never marriage material. But he was damn sure willing to try for her. Little did he know, Chanel was never and never will be marriage material.
Coco knew that karma would come back ten fold. So if this was her fate, then so be it. There was only so much groveling she could do. Obviously there was no changing the mind of the ruthless Anthony Harris.
Chanel Taylor continued to weep as she closed her eyes again and began to pray in a whisper.
"Our father which art in heaven.."
Anthony listened to the love of his life as she said each word. He looked into her eyes and, although he was looking through pain, he could still see all the reasons he loved her to begin with. Chanel Taylor truly broke his heart, yes. However, Anthony knew he could never pull that trigger.
"Hollowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."
"Go."
Chanel's eyes shot open.
"What?"
"Go. Get yo shit and go, Chanel. I don't wanna ever see yo face again."
"Baby.."
"I'll Change my mind in two seconds. Get the fuck out of my face."
Saying no more, she hauled ass towards the bedroom, grabbing the first Louis Vutton suitcase she could find. Looks like she was on the next flight back home in the heart of Houston.