Zeke and Sasha part two.

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Summary

*This is the second story of Zeke and Sasha. Please read Cyber love first* Sasha is working on her long road to recovery. She is doing well with the unconditional support of Zeke. That is until it becomes clear that Zeke needs some support of his own.

Genre
Erotica/Romance
Author
CL
Status
Complete
Chapters
43
Rating
5.0 20 reviews
Age Rating
18+

Sasha - One

My grin was huge as I heard the front door open, I was in the kitchen actually making dinner. That was unusual, it was Zeke who was way better in the kitchen than me.


"Sash!" He shouted and I skidded into the hallway, listening to him chuckle. "That never gets old," he smiled at me, grabbing my face.


"What?" I smiled, eyeing him up in his navy suit. It looked perfect against his brown skin and his cheeky smile showed off my favourite thing about him. He kept the gold tooth, part of our agreement. He had an appointment to lazer his heart tattoo and I was still in a hump about it.


"Coming home and you being here," he whispered on my lips before kissing me gently. I completely swooned, my heart racing. I still couldn't believe we lived in the same house. No more video calls, talking on PlayStation online or late night texts. I got to see his fucking gorgeous body in all its glory.


"I'm making dinner too," I grinned at him and watched his chest shake with laughter.


"My Sash, making dinner?" His eyebrow raised and I slapped his chest. "Do I need to arrange my funeral?" He teased me, walking into the kitchen.


"Rude!" I shouted after him, poking my head into the kitchen. My mouth watered as Zeke ripped off his suit jacket, throwing it onto our tiny kitchen table. His eyes peeked over the pot on the stove, while my eyes went to his muscular arms. God this man. "Is this Nigerian?" He asked me, or teased more so. He knew the fucking answer to that.


"It's tikka, so no." I moved deeper into the kitchen.


"Sash, tut. Tut." I rolled my eyes at him, pushing past him to get to the fridge.


"You're Nigerian now? I thought you were Mancunian?" I opened the fridge and dropped a bottle of lemonade on the side.


"Fucking hell, let's call my mum right now and you can tell her I'm manucnian not Nigerian," Zeke cracked up, getting his phone out of his pocket.


"No!" I squealed, attempting to grab his phone.


"That's what I thought," he chuckled at me. "Go and sit down, I'll dish up." Zeke kissed my forehead after he spoke. I made myself comfy on our wooden kitchen chair, my elbows on the table.


"How was work?" I asked Zeke as he got plates from the cupboard above him.


"Boring," he shrugged. I wasn't sure why I bothered asking him that five days a week, I always got the same response. "I have probation tomorrow but it's first thing." He looked over at me, his dark eyes lingering on mine.


"Okay," I breathed out. Nothing much more to say, I know he fucking hated going but he had zero choice. Only six more months and I would never have to hear him say that again. Zeke put my plate and a fork in front of me, joining me at the table opposite.


"Only six months, Sash." Zeke looked down at his food.


"I know, we've managed how long with them breathing down your neck." I smiled at him as he looked up, shoving food into his mouth.


"True, hurry up and eat so I can eat you out while you play," Zeke said cheekily, my eyes rolling back.