Mile–High
49 Paints
Mile–High
Samantha
I can’t believe she asked for a word. What could she possibly want? It was bad enough that I
would have to work with her for a little while. I didn’t want too much outside interaction with
her, that didn’t involve work.
We stared at each other, and then Avery looked over at Dashawn.
“So, he’s your boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Are you guys serious?”
“Very.”
“How long have you been seeing each other?”
“Why do you need to know? Thinking about trying to steal him and f*ck him? Because I can
tell you right now, you have no chance in h*ll. Unlike Elliot, this one loves me.”
She blanched and I scoffed.
“Sammy, I never meant to hurt you, really. I just got caught up. I was young and dumb. I am so
sorry.”
“You never meant to hurt me? If I didn’t find out, how long would you have continued to f*ck
Elliot? I heard you guys talking about me that night. You said some pretty f*cked up things.”
“I was jealous, okay? We both changed our appearance and you got a boyfriend. Then you
were spending all your free time with him. When you told me you were thinking about giving
your virginity to him, I don’t know, I just wanted to show you he wasn’t worthy. I was going to
tell
you after the dance. I had a recording, and I was going to show you. I didn’t mean any of the things you heard, I just wanted to get him talking, so you could see that he only wanted
your virginity.”
“You could have just told me he was a scumbag!”
“Would you have believed me? He was your first boyfriend. I thought you loved him.”
“I didn’t love him, Avery, I loved you! You were my best friend, my soul sister. We grew up
together. It tore me more apart that you betrayed me the way you did. I would have just dumped his a*s, if you had just told me he was just with me for my virginity. You didn’t have
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to f*ck him.”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I am so sorry, Sammy. Please, you have to forgive me. It’s been
seven years. This is fate, that after all this time we found each other again.”
“Look, you’re forgiven, you’re right, it was a long time ago. But I don’t want a friendship with you. I can’t trust you.”
“I promise you can trust me. I’m not that person. After you left, I changed. I’ve only had one.
relationship in the last seven years. We were going to get married too, but he got cancer and
died. The recommendation to become Ellora’s stylist came at the best time. I needed to get
away from all the sympathetic looks I was getting from friends and family. I’ve never had a best friend again after you. I have missed you so much.”
I stared at her. I did not want to be friends with her, but I didn’t have to be a b*tch to her. It
has been seven years. I need to let go of my resentment.
“I’m sorry for your loss. I have to go.”
She grabbed my wrist as I passed her.
“I’ll see you in the States,” she said.
I just nodded. We would have a working relationship only. I would not be opening my heart to
her ever again.
“You okay?” Dashawn asked.
“Yes. I guess she just wanted to tell me her sob story and apologize. It’s been seven years, I
need to let it go. But I’ll never have a friendship with her ever again.
Two hours later, Dashawn and I were on the plane home.
As we sat and cuddled next to each other, he grabbed my hand and kissed it. He then put a rolled document into my hand.
“What’s this?”
“Your present. There are six days left until Christmas.”
“Dashawn, you were serious about the days of Christmas? I don’t have anything for you?”
“Just as I have said before, you are present enough. We’ve been together for three weeks. I
want you to know that we will be together for years.”
He nodded to the document. I unrolled it and gasped.
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“You gifted me the Olive grove? Dashawn?”
“It’s yours baby. The villa too. It will run on its own and be taken care of by my workers still.
You will reap the benefits of the profits, and they will now report to you. I gave them your
contact details. Lorenzo and Ronaldo Null are the ones in charge of everything. Their
numbers are down at the bottom of the document. The deed is in my safe in my office at Star
Media, behind the Olive artwork on my walls.”
I was flabbergasted. He gifted me a villa and a profitable olive grove.
I unbuckled my seat belt, and then I did his. I yanked him up and tugged him along with me to
the back of the plane. The stewardess looked up at us and I told her to go sit up front. She
frowned at me and I stared her down until she left.
I opened the bathroom and hummed at the size of it. It was actually pretty spacious.
Freaking rich people.
I yanked him in there and attacked his face as he shut the door. He lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist.
“Do you like these slacks?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, confused.
“Better take them off then before I rip them off of you.”
I jumped off of him and quickly divested my clothes. I didn’t give him the courtesy of asking. I
ripped his shirt open, buttons going everywhere, I unzipped him and took out his c*ck. I
climbed him like he was my favorite tree and impaled myself on his hard c*ck.
“F*ck,” he yelled out.
I was not taking my time. He stood there pumping into me as I squeezed my legs around him and f*cked myself back at him. It was hard, fast, sweaty and I loved it. The slapping of our
skin echoed throughout and our moans, groans and curses joined the symphony of our love.
He turned me and pinned me against the bathroom door. He slammed into me and I
screamed as my first orgasm attacked my system.
“F*ck, baby, your p*ssy is so f*cking tight. You’re strangling my c*ck, I f*cking love it.”
“God, yes, Dashawn, f*ck me, f*ck me like you hate me,” I screamed.
He growled loudly and something snapped in him. He took me off his c*ck and turned me, shoving me over the sink counter. My face was against the mirror, my cheek smashed against it. He shoved back into me. Growling the whole time.
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“This is my p*ssy, no one else sees it, tastes it, or touches it. You’re mine Sweet Girl. Say it!”
he demanded.
“Yes, Dashawn, I’m yours. This p*ssy is all yours. No one has a right to your p*ssy,” I cried
out.
He picked up his speed, holding me by the back of my neck, my face smooshed, one of his hands on my hip. I shattered again, and he roared a second after me.
“F*ck, Samantha. You have no idea how much control you have over me,” he said, as he
cleaned us up, and helped me redress.
“Me? I am pretty sure you have all the control.”
“No, baby. I may dominate us when we have s*x, but you have all the control.”
He grabbed my face and kissed me.
“I’m sorry about your shirt,” I said, giggling.
He looked down at his now buttonless shirt and shrugged.
“I have others,” he said, and I giggled.
We walked back down the aisle to our seats. The stewardess looked at us and her eyes
devoured Dashawn’s chest.
“Keep your eyes off of my man if you want to keep your job,” I snapped at her.
The next thing I knew, I was swept up and over Dashawn’s shoulder. We went right back into the bathroom where he f*cked me senseless. Apparently he likes it when I get all possessive.
