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“Look at me, Nae,” he moaned, holding the sides of my head as he slowly fucked my mouth. “You look so pretty sucking this dick.”
My brows bunched and I moaned as my clit throbbed. I wanted to rub it so bad, but I didn’t want to let up on his pleasure, so I denied myself.
When his head flung back and mouth opened, I knew it wouldn’t be long before he came.
“Mm,” he moaned before releasing a sizzling breath. His hips began to circle as he grabbed my hair and looked down at me. Stomach clenching, Tyreek whispered a low, “Fuck,” before trying to pull himself out of me, but I grabbed his thighs and kept him in place.
Gagging with watery eyes and all, I wasn’t letting him move until his seeds were down my throat. When he realized that, he gave me that sexy grin before biting down on his bottom lip as he moaned. He cursed under his breath as his dick throbbed inside of my mouth. I stood and wiped my mouth. Tyreek gripped me by my jaw and pulled me close for a kiss that had my pussy throbbing and clit swelling even more.
He lifted me up and carried me over to the couch, where we didn’t bother undressing fully before I was sliding the condom down and taking him inside of me.
“I love this side of you,” he confessed, gripping my waist as I rode him with a medium pace.
“And I love having you inside of me.”
Tyreek smacked my ass, getting a moan out of me. I could tell he was reaching his peak when he started trying to switch our positions, but I wouldn’t let up. When I was drunk, I liked to be in control. I gripped his neck, choking him slightly.
“Cum,” I demanded, getting a growl out of him that had my toes curling.
“Nae…” Tyreek begged.
“Cum in my pussy, Tyreek. Now.”
“Fuck!” he damn near roared, holding me close as his dick throbbed inside of me. I continued to ride him, slower now, as my own orgasm began to build.
I hugged him tightly as my lips trembled. “Shit,” I stretched, digging my nails into the back of his head. My movements grew sporadic, giving him a chance to roll me over, spread my legs, and pummel me with deep strokes that made it difficult for me to breathe…
* * *
Day 3
The men were together, and the women were together. We’d done a hell of a lot of shopping, to the point where we’d have to check our luggage this time around and had a great spa day before grabbing a bite to eat. Now, we were chilling back at Honey and Kahlil’s suite talking and reflecting. I couldn’t believe how much fun I was having and how little my desire to return to work had been plaguing me. While I absolutely loved what I did, there was no mistaking the fact that I was using work to busy myself and avoid my pain, and I think that was why I was still suffering with the miscarriage and Michael’s betrayal as much as I was. If I would have allowed myself to feel what I was feeling then, it wouldn’t be as hard on me now.
I told myself thinking and dreaming about my angel was normal. A normality that would be with me for the rest of my life. But there was a part of me that believed healing would release some of the pain. I couldn’t heal until my true feelings were revealed, and that was a truth I could no longer deny.
There was nothing I could do about that now, though. All I could do was better myself going forward. I’d been thinking about different forms of therapy for when we went back home. Talking to a therapist wasn’t really my jazz, and she said something that changed my perspective a year ago. She reminded me that art, dance, reading, and basically anything that gave a person clarity and a higher vibration was therapy. Talking to a stranger might not have been the key to my healing, but something was. I just had to figure out what that something would be.
I loved cycling. I always felt freest mentally doing that, sewing, or crocheting. Lately, I hadn’t been doing much of any of that because of my work schedule. When I got back home, I was considering going back to my twelve-hour, three-day shifts at work. Ideally, I’d want to use one of my free days to do absolutely nothing and spend the other three enjoying life solo, with my family and friends, and eventually with my man. While I had no idea who that man would be, I allowed myself to fantasize about it being Tyreek. As much fun as we were having, I was still a little nervous about thinking we would have a second shot at this.
It was on me—that I could accept. I wouldn’t step back into that role for Tyreek until I was sure I could handle it. Before that came, I’d need to focus on myself and making the necessary changes to have a more balanced, happy life. In the meantime, I would date, but I didn’t see myself finding anyone who held me captive the way Tyreek did.
CHAPTER11
Tyreek
Day 4
Janae went as long as she could before she needed to find a taco joint to indulge in. She ate fairly healthy, but her weakness was tacos and burgers, especially food truck tacos and Five Guys burgers. We broke away from the crew to find some tacos and ended up being pleasantly surprised by what we found at Taco El Gordo. It was about fifteen minutes from the hotel, which wasn’t bad at all. After that, we went back to the strip and walked around with no real destination in mind. I didn’t think either of us wanted something to drink because we’d been going at it for the last three days.
“What’s one experience that changed your outlook on life?” she randomly asked me.
“My father’s death,” I answered, not having to give it much thought. “He lived very intentionally. With purpose. He raised us and loved my mother like he knew he wouldn’t be here long. Before that, I was more reckless than people think I am now. Losing him forced me to take life and love more seriously. It also made me value my family and freedom more. What about you?”
I waited, expecting her to say the miscarriage, so it caught me completely off guard when she replied, “Losing you.”
Our steps slowed down as I looked at her skeptically. “Hmm, is that right?”
She laughed like I figured she would. When we first met, we ended up watching an episode ofMy Wife and Kidswhere Calvin kept saying that, and it became an inside joke for us.
