AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Yet, here she was—still, poring over vendor invoices and sorting through an assortment of member profiles. Suffocating. Shutting her club down was not an option. Ever. She still had not found anyone to manage her club—not that she’d been looking aggressively, but she still needed someone.
Something had to give. Soon.
She sighed—heavily.
She was not an optional kind of woman. She was not ever the white-picket fence type of woman, but somehow she felt like that’s what Marcel was trying to make her into. Not that he’d said it. It was what he didn’t say.
He was commitment oriented. He loved the idea of being married and waking up to someone every day for the rest of his life. She was—well, she was allergic to the idea of being committed to one person. She didn’t know what that felt like, since she’d never dated anyone. Sure she’d been seen with men. Even rumored, over the years, to have been in several torrid affairs with many celebrities, and a few world leaders.
No. She’d fucked them, probably. But having affairs?
Absolutely not.
Well, unless you wanted to consider what she’d shared with Josiah an affair. She saw him, as with all the others, including Lamar—whose cock she’d ridden the night before—as sex objects. Boy toys. Fuck buddies. Pleasure seekers.
They all desired something from her. And she’d given it freely, because she had wanted it herself.
Pleasure.
Unadulterated bliss.
Nothing more, nothing less.
And she was the happiest when she was in the throes of sweet, searing pleasure, or seeing others become engulfed in it.
Lamar pushed open her door and knocked as he walked in, cutting into her reverie. “Hey, these were dropped off for you…”
She looked up at him, and saw a very large, long white box under his arm as he stepped into her office. “Where do you want ’em?”
She pointed over toward the sofa. “Over there,” she said, sounding distracted. “Please.”
Lamar looked at her. “Yo, e’erything aiight?”
She inhaled sharply, then exhaled. “Everything’s fine, my love. Thanks.”
“Oh, aiight. If you say so.”
She forced a smile. “I do.”
He frowned. She wasn’t looking at him lusty-eyed, wasn’t being her flirty-self. He knew something was up, but he wasn’t going to pry. He knew when to fall back, and mind his business.
“Please close the door shut, on your way out.”
He glanced over at her again. “No doubt. I got you.”
She waited for him to walk out, and shut the door, then pushed back from her seat and walked over toward the sofa. She pulled apart the red ribbon tied around the box, then slowly lifted the lid. She gasped. There were three-dozen red roses inside with a card.
They were absolutely beautiful.
Nairobia picked up the card and read it:
Beautiful flowers, for a beautiful woman. I can’t say I’m in love. But each rose represents the love that flows through my veins and fills my heart. All you need to do, baby, is let me share all that I am, with you.
Marcel
P.S., I’m waiting to hear from you. Please don’t keep me waiting.
Nairobia stared at the card several moments longer, and reread it twice before setting it in the box. She picked up a single rose and brought it to her nose. Her heat thudded in her chest as she inhaled.
