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Fuck yeah, he liked. The way her dress dipped low in the front, almost to her navel, flashing lots of cleavage and the generous swells of her breasts. But he wasn’t about to play himself as some thirsty cat. Still, surprisingly, his mouth watered to suck a nipple between his lips and graze the tips with his teeth until they tightened almost painfully. “Yo, muhfucka, snap outta it,” he told himself. Get ya mind right, niggah. She does this shit for a living. Turning muhfuckas on. Dick-teasin’ ass!
Lamar swallowed and took a moment longer to savor the view, then shrugged his shoulders. “It’s aiight,” he said evenly, almost nonchalantly.
She stared at him, blankly. It’s aiight? Was that the best this beefy bastard could do? All right was not the effect she was going for tonight. She rolled her eyes. “Come,” she huffed, sashaying toward the doors. “I don’t want to be late.”
He smirked. Oh now she’s concerned about being late. Really? He followed behind her, his eyes on the sway of her hips. And the vision pissed him off more. It made him hard. Again.
Once inside the limo, Nairobia settled back into the soft leather as the driver shut the door the moment her so-called date slid into the luxury cabin. Mirrored shades back on, he sat across from her. Legs open, he tried not to look at her, those mouthwatering nipples, her smooth, silky legs.
Lamar exhaled. He felt himself swinging like a pendulum between agitation and sexual frustration. He looked down to keep from looking at her protruding nipples and made the foolish mistake of looking at her sandaled feet. She had pretty-ass toes on top of every-fucking-thing else that was ridiculously sexy about her. His blood heated all over again. This pissed him off even more. Lamar loved pretty feet and toes. Now he had to wrestle with thoughts of sucking each red-painted toe into his mouth.
He sucked in a breath and cursed himself as hundreds of images—of her—swirled in his head: her on her hands and knees, him fucking her from behind, in her ass, her pussy; her on top of him, riding him down into a mattress; him eating her pussy while she sucked his dick; her ass in the air, his tongue in her sweet hole. He’d never eaten ass before, but he knew for sure he’d eat her booty like a bag of groceries.
The salacious thoughts running through his head were fucking ridiculous, and had both his heads ready to explode.
Nairobia breathed in as her pussy clenched. A mixture of leather and his intoxicating cologne tantalized her senses. His scent and heat clung in the air making it uncomfortably difficult for her to keep from soaking her sequined panties. She didn’t know what it was about the twenty-eight-year-old, dark-chocolate hunk who she’d hired to manage her club’s security that had her feeling…so unnerved, so damn needy and greedy. But she wanted a taste of his chocolate. Very thick chocolate, she hoped.
She cleared her throat and willed her pussy still. “So tell me, my darling,” she cooed, reaching over and touching his knee. Lamar’s body stiffened as the electricity from her fingertips zapped through his core. There was definitely a sexual attraction he cared not to explore, nor acknowledge. He had to keep telling himself to stay focused. To not let anything she said or did unnerve him. Nairobia licked her lips. “Do I make you nervous?”
He frowned. Why the fuck is she asking me some shit like that? No she didn’t make him nervous. She made him…he shook the thought from his head. “Nah,” he coolly replied. But his dark gaze behind his shades skittered away. “Why you ask?”
Nairobia grinned. She knew men. She studied them. She’d been around enough of them—and fucked enough of them—to know when she made a man uneasy. When her sexual energy was too much for them.
For some reason, with him, she couldn’t tell one way or the other. Instead of answering his question, she eased up from her seat, then leaned over him, her palms planted on either side of him against the seat, and said, “Good. I am precious cargo, my love. I don?
??t want, or need, any man who I am entrusting to serve and protect me, nervous of me, or around me.”
Yeah, he’d protect her all right. But he didn’t like that serve shit. The way it rolled off her tongue made him cringe. Unless she was referring to getting served a dose of hard dick, Lamar wasn’t down with serving a broad shit else, except for a mouthful of his babies.
He swallowed. And started to sweat. Motherfuck. He knew he should have busted a few nuts before flying out here with her. His hands itched to slide them through her hair, curling the strands around his fingers as he pushed her face-down into his lap. She could definitely suck his dick if she wanted.
Yo, fuck, man! You buggin’ for real, muhfucka! Don’t let this broad try’n play you. His toes curled in his boots. He had to fight to keep from telling her what he’d like to see her do with that pretty mouth of hers.
“Yo, check this out,” he said, his vernacular going from professional to hood. “Ain’t shit soft over here, ya heard? So we good on all that nervous talk, ma. You hired me to handle ya security team ‘n’ keep you safe ‘n’ that’s what I’ma do.” His jaw clenched. “But, if at any time you feel unsatisfied with my firm’s services, then you can terminate the terms of the contract ‘n’ me ‘n’ my peoples can bounce; feel me?”
Nairobia gave him a lingering stare filled with promises of hot nastiness. “I would love nothing more than to feel you, my darling. Trail my tongue along the swell of your cock. Then fill your mouth with my cunt. But not tonight, my love.”
Goddamn. Lamar felt his pulse quicken. His mouth went dry, but the tip of his dick trickled with desire. Behind the dark lenses, he kept his gaze on her, trying like hell to maintain his cool, calm, collected composure. He felt the heat. Felt her potent sexual energy slowly burning his senses.
His jaw clenched. “Then we good,” he bit out.
Oh, yes. They were good, more than good. The only thing Nairobia wanted to see bouncing at the moment was her ass up and down on his strikingly handsome face.
She needed to see him. Wanted to look him in the eyes. Wanted to look into the windows of his soul. His hand gripped her wrist when she boldly tried to remove his shades.
Nairobia’s mouth watered. She leaned in and placed her lips flush against his ear. She whispered, “The question, my love, is: are you good? Is your cock hard for me?”
He fought to not breathe her in. “Nah, my shit ain’t hard,” he lied, hoping she wouldn’t be brazen enough to reach between his legs to feel the truth, that his dick was harder than steel. “And, yeah, I’m good. I’m always good…anything else?”
Mmm. A moan caught in her throat. The innuendo wrapped around her like a silk blanket. She licked her lips. Instantly, his breath coming fast, he felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
Nairobia flicked at his ear with her tongue, then whispered, “Als ik heb mijn weg, mijn liefde, zal ik nemen u naar mijn bed en smelten mijn kut…all over you. Now. There’s nothing else, my darling. For now.”
His dick jumped.
She kissed him lightly on the cheek, then eased back in her seat as the limousine rounded the corner onto Figueroa Street, one block from their destination.
Adjusting his shades, he eyed her out of his peripheral vision, his nostrils flaring, as she stared out the window, pretending she had not just been up in his face taunting him with her beauty, with her femininity, her sensuality. He had no fucking clue what she’d just whispered into his ear, but the shit had heat shooting through his balls and blood rushing to his dick. He cursed under his breath. He hoped like hell that by the time they climbed out of the limo, his throbbing erection would be hard to see.
