To Buy a Vow

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  More From Chencia

  TO BUY A VOW

  Chencia C. Higgins

  Copyright © 2018 Chencia C. Higgins

  Cover design: James, GoOnWrite.com

  Edited by: Little Pear Editing

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writers’ imagination or have been used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locations or organizations is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews. All rights reserved.

  Acknowledgments

  This is #7. Thank you for your continued support.

  Chapter One

  Nedra

  When The Art of Seduction Isn't So Artful

  I knew exactly what I was doing when I emerged from my bedroom, clad only in a thin tank top and a pair of pale pink bikini panties.

  My plan: simple. The execution: flawless. The results: undeniable.

  Operation “Get the dick” was now in full effect.

  I crept down the stairs, my socks silencing my descent against the carpeted steps. When I hit the bottom floor, I paused and listened out for any sounds of life. It took a moment for Chris’s laughter—a deep, rich baritone that never failed to put a tingle in my spine—to reach from the bowels of the 1,800 square foot home we shared up to my ears where I stood in front of the staircase behind the front door.

  I moved quickly and determinedly through the house, stopping first into the kitchen to grab a few props before making my way to my destination. The den was a free space adjacent to the back of the house, with only three walls that we had converted to a television room. That was where I often found Chris as of late. This was his hiding place when he didn’t want to deal with the rest of the world. I usually left him alone for a while when he was back there, understanding that he needed to decompress after dealing with a bunch of hotheaded kids every day.

  Lately, he’d been disappearing into that room even when he didn’t have to work, and although I found it odd, I didn’t question him about it.

  Today, though?

  Today, I had awakened to tender breasts and slick thighs. My sleep had been dreamless, so my hyper-aroused state confused me. Chris had left for work before I’d even stirred in the bed, and I’d done my very best to take my mind off of the constant thrumming of my core all day.

  After meeting one of my girl-friends for breakfast, I spent a productive hour at the gun range, blowing off steam and releasing tension. When I returned home, I knocked out a couple of loads of laundry before heading back out to pick up my mama for lunch at my granny’s house. Lunch had actually stretched into a four-hour affair and before I knew it, it was almost five o’clock, and I had to rush home to make dinner.

  Throughout it all, I was in a constant state of arousal that nothing had been able to distract me from. I needed a cure, and there was no remedy for what ailed me.

  No remedy except getting my back blown out by the only man to ever do it.

  The anticipation of a well-executed plan made me giddy as I rounded the corner of the den. Instead of walking behind the couch and up the other side of the room, I purposefully crossed in front of it, making sure to place my weight on the heels of my feet which in turn isolated each of my ass cheeks and made them jiggle as I walked. I could feel Chris’ amber eyes on me, and the heat from his gaze fueled me. It confirmed what I already knew; I looked good.

  My sepia-toned skin was glistening from the lavender, shea and coconut body butter I had slathered on after my shower. The tank clung to my ample breasts and bore my slightly rounded midriff, showcasing my hourglass figure. I sauntered by him casually and turned to my right, maneuvering the items in my arms to hand him a bottle of beer.

  He took it silently, eyes dropping from my face down to my ass, which had already begun to swallow the fabric of my underwear. I wanted to smirk but instead kept my expression neutral as I turned my back to him and bent over invitingly. The sight of my wide, round cheeks in his face was one I knew he couldn’t ignore. It was my ace in the hole and his reaction didn’t disappoint.

  Just over the laugh track of the comedy show playing on the television, I heard him mutter a low, “Goddamn, girl”.

  Pleased with his response, I continued with my plan, setting a large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table along with a bottle of hot sauce and, accidentally on purpose, dropping the bottle opener strategically so that it fell from the table and hit the floor.

  I dropped to my knees before “Oops” was even fully out of my mouth, arching my back and hiking my ass exaggeratedly in the air in a fake attempt to retrieve the instrument. The couch groaned as Chris shifted behind me and just as my hands closed over his tool, I felt Chris’ hands palm the globes of my ass. It had been nearly three weeks since he had touched me, and I desperately missed the feel of his calloused hands on my naked flesh. All I wanted to do was press back against him, but my mission wasn’t over just yet. I still had a few, final lines to deliver.

  Leaning forward slightly, I turned my head to the right and peered at him over my shoulder. “What are you doing, babe?”

  Chris had moved from the couch to the floor and was now kneeling behind me. One hand squeezed while the other jiggled my ass cheeks.

  “Shiiid, I’m just enjoying the view.”

  This time, I did smirk. “You see with your eyes, not with your hands.”

  He bit his lip and worked both of his hands up to my waist. “Oh yeah? Well, let me take a look then.” His fingers slid under the elastic of my panties and pulled the material down over my ass and halfway down my thighs, digging into my flesh as he spread my cheeks.

  “Why you tryna tease me with this pretty ass pussy, Ned?” He punctuated his question with a slap to one of my cheeks.

  “I’m not,” I whined as the lie caught in my throat. I was so close to my goal.

  “The hell you ain’t.” He slapped my other cheek. “Goddamn. Look at this.” He swiped a finger along my seam and stuck the soaked digit in his mouth, sucking off the evidence of my arousal. “You so wet for me already, tasting all good and shit.”

  I dropped my head in between my shoulders and let out a low moan as Chris rubbed the head of his dick along my slick opening.

  “Chris…”

  “What’s up, babygirl?” The murmur was low and husky in his throat. He pressed his hips forward, and I gasped as his smooth, hardened tip slid inside of me briefly before he pulled back.

  “Baby, please.” When he repeated the move, I wanted to cry.

  “Please what?”

  “Don’t tease me.”

  He chuckled and I clenched at the arousing sound. “Tease you? Never that, babygirl.” Once again, he pressed forward, this time until nearly half of his length had disappeared into my folds. Slowly, he pulled back until only the tip was inside.

  Desperate to feel all of him, I pushed my hips back and cried out his name in frustration when he backed, just out of my reach, causing him to slip free of me.

  “Christopher!” I twisted my neck to look back at him. “Stop playing with me! I need you!”
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  He smirked at me. “You need this dick?”

  I shook my head, my face twisting into a pout at being denied what I had craved all day. “I need you. Please.”

  I watched the smirk fall from his face. His eyes widened in surprised disbelief, and his expression became so earnest that my heart squeezed as my breath caught in my chest.

  “I need you too. Don’t ever forget that.”

  My eyebrows furrowed. There was something in the undercurrent of his voice like he was trying to communicate a hidden message to me. I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant when he finally pushed his entire length inside of me. The question on my lips morphed into a moan and my fingers dug into the plush carpet.

  “Ah, shiiiiit.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  I rotated my hips as Chris rocked into me. He swore and I echoed the sentiment. His fingers dug into my hips, his grip firm as he hovered over me, pressing his chest against my back as he licked a trail up my spine.

  “Ooh.”

  With each thrust, I slid further along the carpet until I was lying prone with my head under the coffee table and Chris on my back. He used his legs to close mine and began to grind slowly into me, his every thrust hitting a spot inside of me that sparked my nerves.

  Before long, I could feel my body begin to heat as my orgasm loomed. Sensing my impending explosion, Chris increased his thrusts until the added sensation of his skin slapping against mine had us both barreling toward the edge. I flew off the precipice, releasing a keening cry into the carpet. As my walls tightened around him, Chris pressed his face into the crevice between my shoulder blades and groaned through his release.

  When I no longer felt him twitching inside of me, he pulled out and rolled so that he was on his back beside me. I turned my head and observed him quietly as my breathing slowed down. His red-brown skin—that always reminded me of the terra cotta pots in my granny’s garden—was beaded with sweat. He had slung an arm over his eyes, although there was no chance of the light bothering him since both of our heads were still under the coffee table. His chest heaved beneath his t-shirt, and that’s when I realized that he was still dressed. I hadn’t felt his mesh shorts against my skin, so he must have lowered them for this quickie and then pulled them back up as he rolled over.

  I frowned.

  That he hadn’t removed even one article of clothing bothered me, but I couldn’t articulate why other than it being unusual. It just felt wrong. I shifted my thighs, and the wetness I felt between them made me bite my lip in sweet victory.

  Mission: accomplished!

  I pressed my palms against the floor and shimmied backward until I cleared the coffee table. In one smooth movement, I rolled onto my back and quickly lifted my hips to roll my panties up my thighs. I sat up and looked over at my husband who was still halfway under the table and showed no signs of moving. My brows furrowed.

  What is up with him?

  The question was on the tip of my tongue but would have to wait until I made a trip to the bathroom to clean up. When I returned to the den, I stopped at the entrance and my face twisted in confusion. The air felt heavy and thick. A strong foreboding came over me and something felt wrong.

  What the fuck is going on?

  I tried to shake the sudden and unwanted feeling off as I continued into the room. As I once again rounded the couch, I saw that Chris had finally gotten off the floor and moved back to the couch. But instead of slouching comfortably with his eyes on the screen like he was when I first entered the room, he was sitting on the edge of the cushions, hunched over, balancing on his knees with his head in his hands.

  That foreboding slammed back into me with a force so strong, I backed up a couple of steps. My mouth went dry with fear.

  My voice was laced with concern when I spoke. “Chris?”

  I didn’t just call his name; I’d asked him a question.

  What’s wrong?

  What’s going on?

  What’s happening?

  When he lifted his head from his hands and finally looked at me, I gasped and rushed to his side. His eyes were red-rimmed and his jaw was clenched to where I could see the vein running along his temple.

  “Baby!” I cried with my hands on either side of his face. “What is it? What’s wrong?!”

  “Nedra…” He sucked in a breath, his eyes flicking over to the television then back to me. “We need to talk.”

  ♥♥♥♥

  When Nothing Goes The Way It Should

  I was angry. So damn angry. I felt like I was on the brink of a full-on rage. I’d never wanted to hurt Chris as much as I did right now. My life was falling apart right in front of me, and I was unable to salvage anything. It was like a horror film; every time I tried to pick up a couple of pieces and hold them together, they shattered in my hands, the edges sharp shards that hurt even as I tried to mend them. To make matters worse, the man who was supposed to be my partner in everything—my life partner—was the one exacerbating the issue.

  How did I end up here?

  Oh, right. The talk.

  As soon as the words left his mouth, I knew that my post-orgasmic euphoria was about to come to an end. I stood up from that couch so fast, I gave myself vertigo. Clutching my head for a minute, I willed the room to stop spinning. Chris grabbed my hand and pulled me back down to the couch. He waited for me to look at him before he spoke.

  “Ned?”

  “Hm?”

  “You know I love you, right?”

  My heart squeezed at that preface. The vibes I felt right now weren’t very loving, but okay. “Of course, baby. And I love you too.”

  He squeezed again, this time gathering both of my hands in his and bringing them to his mouth and placing a kiss on my knuckles. I looked at our joined hands and wondered why, even with the tender action, I felt such dread.

  Chris nodded. “I don’t want to drag this out and make it worse than it—”

  “Well, just say it then!” My interruption came out harsh due to my anxiety. I wanted to pull my hands from his and simultaneously burrow myself into his chest and stop him from completing his speech.

  “Okay, well,” His eyes burned into mine, earnest and determined. “I’m filing for a divorce. Well…actually, I already filed. Two weeks ago.”

  I sucked in a breath so deep and fast that I started to choke. “Wha—what?” I couldn’t even think, let along formulate a response to the bomb he had just dropped on me.

  He what?

  And when?

  Apparently, he didn’t expect me to say anything because he kept right on speaking. “I’m sorry Ned, but I had to do it. Our marriage just isn’t what it used to be, and we’ve both been so miserable for a long time that I just thought it was the best thing to do.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My husband of seven years had filed for a divorce two weeks ago and had not only failed to tell me, but he’d just fucked me doggy-style on the floor of our television room while Kevin Hart argued with Nick Cannon about who Mariah Carey belonged with in the background. This was surreal. I had to be dreaming. I had to be.

  A light bulb clicked on in my head. Oh! Okay, if this is a dream then I can’t feel any pain and no one dies, right? Right.

  I nodded, twisting and yanking my hands until Chris finally released his hold on them.

  “Ned?”

  Mind already made up, I ignored him and got up off the couch. I walked to the front of the house and grabbed my keys from the side table before taking the stairs to my bedroom on the second floor. I moved methodically as I placed the stool I kept in my closet into position and stepped onto it. Just as my fingers brushed the corner of the locked box stored on the top shelf, Chris wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me out of the closet.

  “Nedra, what are you doing?!” He kept me wrapped in his arms so his panicked voice was loud in my ear. I jerked my head to the side and gave him a stupid look.

  “What does it look like?”

  He shook
his head adamantly. “No, it can’t be what it looks like. You can’t be doing what I think you’re doing. There is no way you’d walk off while we are in the middle of a conversation to go get your gun. Nope. I refuse to believe that.”

  I scoffed. “Nigga, please. You fucked me and then asked for a divorce! Between the two of us, walking off is the least of our issues.”

  “What do you need your gun for?”

  I rolled my eyes. Now, he wanted to play stupid? Cool, we can both play, then. “I was going to give it a bath and tuck it in for the night.”

  He squeezed me tightly and the bite of his nails into my arms started to hurt. “That shit ain’t funny, Ned.”

  Fed up with his bullshit, I began to struggle to get free from his grasp.

  “It doesn’t fucking matter anyway! This is all a dream! Once I get Precious and shoot your ass—because everyone knows you can’t feel pain in dreams—then I’ll wake up and this will be a distant memory.”

  His arms steeled around me and quicker than I could blink he had spun me around until we were facing each other. His eyes bored into mine.

  “Are you being serious right now?”

  I nodded. “Of course. I know that I’m dreaming because there is no way in hell the man I’ve known since I was fourteen years old would file for a divorce without at least discussing his issues with me first. He wouldn’t let me walk around mistakenly thinking that I was in a happy, fulfilling relationship for two motherfucking weeks while he knew he had no intentions of staying married to me.”

  I saw the guilt as plain as day before he averted his gaze and my heart froze over. Was he—was this for real? Was he really doing this to me? To us?

  “Ned…”

  That’s when I checked out. All of the adrenaline that carried me upstairs drained out of me, and I slumped over in his arms. He moved us over to the bed, and I sat on the edge, staring blankly at the open closet door. He shifted until he was standing in front of me and crouched so he was in my line of sight. I stared at his Adam’s apple, watching it bob as he worked his mouth around the bullshit he planned to spit at me.