“No, I didn’t, and I don’t want to talk about it.” She sniffled. “This is the first time I haven’t had to think about anything, and I’m kind of enjoying it.” Smiling, she crept closer, straddling his lap and clinging to his broad shoulders.
Heavy’s dick responded to her soft frame and sultry voice as she dipped her head so she could engage him in another passionate kiss. Grabbing both ass cheeks, he lifted her over his stiff rod and eased her down until he had filled her up with his girth.
“Mmm,” she moaned, eyes and head rolling simultaneously.
“Nah, I want you to look at me while you take this.” He bit his bottom lip sexily.
Placing a hand on the back of her neck, he forced her to look at him as he thrust his hips to go deeper inside her.
“Uh!” Giselle’s lips parted in bliss when she hit the base of his length, and that familiar euphoria built up at her core.
“That shit opening up for me.” He breathed against her neck before kissing it. “She like me right here.” He didn’t pull out, his strokes shortened, tapping at her release button every single time.
Giselle shuddered, the pleasure too much for her to take as the damn broke, and she creamed all over him again.
“Yessssss! Right… there!” she stammered, groping for words that made sense.
Heavy had tapped into parts of her that she’d never even scratched the surface of. He was commanding her in ways she wasn’t prepared for, but she found fulfillment in every moment of it. For hours, he rocked in and out of her, switching from the couch to the top of his desk and taking time in between to smoke, play cards, and finish off the rest of the tequila until they were both spent. The rest of the world was gone, and they’d made their own just for tonight in the midst of this storm. Curled up on the couch with her back to him, Giselle laced her fingers with his, studying the many tattoos on his arms and hands until she drifted off to his steady breathing and the lull of the rain against the roof.
THREE
THIS IS ME
Slightly disoriented, Giselle stirred the following morning. Gripping her head, she recalled the alcohol and weed she’d consumed all night and still felt a little high. Everything was fuzzy as she tried to adjust to the low lighting. Heavy’s office suddenly became familiar as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. With the quilt they’d been tangled in all night wrapped around her, she held it in place against her chest and briefly skimmed the space. There was no sign of him, but her clothes were neatly folded on the table in front of her with Maisie’s set of keys on top. He’d taken the time to wash and dry them for her.
Taking a moment to collect herself, images of the night before bounced through her head. She would never consider herself an angel, but she’d never done anything like she did last night. She’d lost count the number of times that man made her cum, and now her entire body felt like it had run an eight-hundred-yard dash. Blushing, she reached for her clothes on the table and paused when the door to the office flung open.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” The older gentleman immediately clamped his eyes shut, but the old man behind him was too busy trying to sneak a peek past him.
“Clearly, I’m the one out of place here,” she muttered, bringing herself to her feet with the cover still wrapped around her.
“Nah. Heavy had to bounce, and he said to leave you alone until you woke up. I’m just looking for some forms.”
“Who dat?”
“None of your business, Pop. Back up.”
Giselle ducked in the bathroom with her clothes, leaving the door cracked, and quickly getting dressed. She took a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror and knew she’d seen better days. By then, she’d have visited the spa at least twice to get rid of the bags of luggage building beneath her eyes.
“It’s fine,” Giselle told them through the door as she bounced into her jeans.
“Nah, you fine, baby.” The old man grinned.
He just left?
She grabbed her socks and quickly put them on her feet before slipping into her sneakers. They were still a little damp, but she didn’t mind. She just had to get the hell out of there. She was as secure in her appearance as she was going to get when she stepped out and found the older, familiar face standing behind the desk. The rest of the office had been completely wiped clean of any activity from the night before, and it left her wondering how long Heavy had been awake. She picked up her cell off the table and saw that she was at fifteen percent battery life.
“Must have been quite the night,” the old man spoke up with a half grin.
Giselle squinted at their features and the younger one’s raspy baritone. It was both men from the photo on Heavy’s desk.
“You must be the father and grandfather.”
“The one and only. I’m Horace Sapien.” The bronze skinned old man with a bald spot and salt and pepper hair on the side grinned, showing off his open face gold tooth.
“Toussaint Sapien,” his father introduced himself, extending his hand across the desk.
Like his son, tattoos covered his arms and chest. He was an older, just as handsome version of his son, with the same captivating hazel eyes.
