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“What’s the name of it?” the seller’s attorney asked.
My eyes rolled contemplatively to the ceiling. “Hmmmm… I’m between two.” I beamed. “But I guess the clock is officially ticking on my decision, huhn?” I winked.
As they laughed, some began standing from the stools. We gave our goodbyes to one another, Cecil participated in that with pink hair and oversized square glasses. His demeanor was calm and gracious, two things he’s typically not. Mehki was the last to leave, running off a few reminders on his way out the door.
The moment the door closed, Cecil spun around in a ninety-degree angle. “Beeeetch, you got yo club!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
Expecting his queenery, I leaped in the air over and over in my snakeskinRalph Laurensandals. I squealed before performing a twirl reaching the middle of the dance floor.
Cecil was on my heels, attempting the same, just not as fluid. “Yes, Shi! Yes!” Then his palms clenched his generous waist. “It’s Friday! Now, which club do we go to, to celebrate owning a club?”
I paid that question a moment or two before biting my lips together to conceal a devilish grin. As an entrepreneur, stealing away five days to have work/life balance could cost you double that time getting back on track. That truth seemed to have served true for Jas and me upon our arrival to the States. It had been nine days since we left St. Vincent, and I’d only seen Jas once since.
We both dove headfirst into work and other professional obligations. Yeah, we spoke every day since, by way of calls, texts, andFaceTimes—mostly several times a day—but nothing equated to being in his arms…or in his lap. On Monday, four days ago, we both so happened to have morning schedules with our therapist the same way we did when we met. The longing gazes, reverential hand caresses, soft tones, and final kiss before my session began only intensified my need for him. Being completely honest, I left St. Vincent with a swollen sex and tender pelvis from all of the frolicking Jas and I performed on that beach. But that was nine days ago, and I was now beyond starved of his sensual attention.
I nodded with puckered lips. “The only club getting beat up tonight is the one between these thighs.” I winked.
“Bitch, from who?” His arched brows met. I totally didn’t realize I hadn’t told Cecil about Jas and me—whatever Jas and I were. “And don’t tell me to mind my business. We ain’t on the job. You ain’t Witherspoon. Bitch, you Shi-the-fuck-Shi!” He swung his neck, emphasizing his adamance.
I bit my lip, enduring the butterflies in my belly that was always accompanied by thoughts of Jas. “Help me lock up my new place and I’ll share enough to strain your briefs on the way to our mani and pedi appointment.”
“Oh, shit! I’m swelling already!”
While laying in his bed, I glanced up from the report I was working on from my laptop. I watched from the surveillance monitors as Jas and Juggy arrived at their home, ending the workday. My pulse raced in anxiousness and legs shuffled beneath the comforter in want. Would he appreciate my spontaneity as a romantic gesture or would Jas shut me out, telling me my abrupt visit to his home wasn’t a good idea? Today was the first time I used my keys, trying to surprise him. I arrived close to six in the evening and lucky for me, Consuela, his housekeeper was just four minutes away, having just clocked out.
When Jas gave me the keys to his home on the tarmac in St. Vincent, neither of us considered the code to his high-tech security system. The cops could have come had it not been for Consuela, who so happened to have stayed late, waxing the floors. After promising her I’d avoid the hot spots of the house she’d worked on, I climbed the stairs for Jas’ bedroom, dizzied by the alluring scent of him the moment I hit the French entryway.
Appropriately waxed, showered, moisturized, and fragranced, I now questioned my impropriety. Jas referred to me as his lady in St. Vincent, but no practice had been put into the act since we’d returned, thanks to our demanding careers.
I watched them disappear from the screen once they left the corridor off the garage, removing their boots. I caught Juggy a few minutes later, gaiting toward the front of the house on the main floor where I assumed his bedroom was located. My pulse quickened in my neck and palms clenched to fists in anticipation as I waited for Jas to reappear. He finally did at the landing of the rear stairway where he hopped two steps at a time up the steps. Within the span of forty seconds, he appeared in the doorway.
Jas’ eyes were heavy on me. I swallowed back a gulp of pooled saliva, cat having my tongue. Even soiled from woodwork, the man looked decadent. I watched as he pulled off his “I’ll Never Love Another” hoodie then black tank undershirt. The ripples of his taut skin and the flexing of his abs had me swallowing again. I shifted in the bed, clearing my throat as I waited for him to give some indicator of his feelings on my popup visit.
“You still working?” He tossed his chin my way, delivery virile and husky, indicative of a man who’d worked with his hands all day long.
Confused, I glanced down past my bulging breasts in a turquoise teddy and found my computer.Oh!“Yea—I was.” I closed the laptop, clearing my throat again before freezingagain.
After a spell under his heavy gaze, Jas murmured, “Mind if I shower?”
“Sha—sure!” I chirped with bright eyes.
I watched as he turned for the bathroom, carved shoulders swaying stiffly as he unraveled the button of his soiled jeans.
A laborer—an owner!I had to correct myself. Jas said he ownedRizzo’s Custom Homes, and after doing a little digging with my industry peers, there had, in fact, been talk of Rizzo having sold the firm for years. It was simply odd that Paulie Rizzo still showed up every day, appearing to lead the company.
Either way, I placed my laptop on the nightstand to the left of me and rested on the oversized upholstered headboard, trying to relax. I wanted this. Needed him so bad, just knowing the only thing separating me from his naked body was a wall and water had me to feverish degrees. But I endured, only because I wasn’t sold on Jas being okay with my initiative in his private quarters.
And I waited.
When Jas emerged from the bathroom drying his hair with a towel, he was stark naked, chiseled body a work only God himself could craft. My face spasmed in torture. He gaited over to the nightstand for a remote, clicking on a few buttons. The first was to lower the lights. The second was to power on music. He tapped until he found a station of slow R&B music. Old school Brandy, “When You Touch Me,” was in flow as he adjusted the volume to low. My lungs seized and sex pulsed with hungry need.
Jas returned the remote then tossed the comforter back, exposing my pantyless pelvis and legs, and pulled me to the middle of the bed. Breathless, I allowed him to adjust me, spreading my knees and crawling in between. He brought the comforter over his shoulders then settled on top of me. His skin deliciously fragranced and dewy, cock laying on my pelvic bed, extending up to my lower belly was hard, hot, and weighty. It was welcomed as much as Jas.
Suddenly, I felt emboldened by his acceptance of my presence. I smiled at him, adjusting to his weight. Jas captured my mouth in a passionate kiss, his minty tongue moved slowly at first, allowing me to taste his need for me, too. I writhed beneath him, immediately caught up in lust, feeling my sex lubricate in anticipation of his dwelling.
He lowered his torso so I could feel the heft of his pulsing thickness between my lips. His shaft rolled over my nub, swelling me with each stroke. His palms at the back of my skull, holding me in place while he tortured me with building pleasure. Our tongues reacquainted as did our genitals, my gooey need seeping out, lathering on his roving dick. My sex moved against him, rubbing to expel a growing sensation. With my toes planted into the mattress, I pushed into him until I exploded beneath his imposing and damp body.
I was all breaths and tingly cells when he left my mouth. “You should be ready now,” he murmured raspy into my beating neck.
