Chapter one
How Did I Get Here?
NOELLE
Have you ever asked yourself how the hell did I end up here? I just did. It all started with a Jamaican man on Tinder. His name on Tinder was James. That’s important for this story.
We met up at Starbucks. He was a tall, beautiful Black man, and he called me his empress. Let me just say, if another man calls me empress, I would roll my eyes and walk away. But a Jamaican man calls me empress? I believe it. I am royal. I am an empress. We speak for an hour, and after some talking and laughing, we end up at his apartment. When I enter his apartment, it’s neat and well-decorated. You would think my Spidey senses would tingle, but nope. My pussy tightens when I feel the length of him press into my back. I just know his dick is big. I sigh with satisfaction.
“Mi tek two ‘ulk tablet. Your pum pum hafi bawl tonight,” James whispers as he sucks the side of my ear.
In minutes, my clothing is off, his tongue is doing magic on my thighs, and everything feels right. Just two more inches and he would be closer to my clit. Then I would be in heaven.
“Donavan!” Someone shouts through the house. James pauses and lifts his head.
I’m thinking Donavan must be his brother. He did say he lived with his sister and brother earlier.
“Donavan, I brought things for us to cook.”
James freezes. He springs off me. My legs are still spread wide, the soles of my feet pointed to the popcorn ceiling, no underwear, my kitty all out in the open.
“Get dressed,” James says. My underwear hits my face as he dashes into the shower.
“What does he mean, ‘get dressed’?” I mutter. I yank the underwear on. I don’t know what the hell is happening.
He comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“You need to get dressed now. She cyaa see yuh,” he whisper-shouts.
“You told me you were single,” I reply. I pull my dress on and grab my bag.
“Donavan.” The door opens and I dash behind it.
I couldn’t hear what she was saying because my heartbeat was in my ear. I have so many questions, but James, aka Donavan, is 6’5, and he looks like he is afraid. So who am I not to be?
Eventually she moves away, and he pulls the door slightly and hisses, “Hide.”
Hide? Where in this two-by-four room should I hide? From across the room, I can see the closet, and it’s packed. I can’t hide there. Maybe I can hide in the shower. I hustle over to the shower, only to realize the shower curtains are sheer. Okay…I got the window. Maybe I can use the fire escape? What fireescape? The rusted iron structure is in need of repair. If I step onto that, I will be seeing the pearly gates.
I chuckle softly. I always end up in a dumbass situation like this.
My phone vibrates in my bag. I grab it quickly, answering it.
“Hello?” I whisper, tiptoeing across the room to press the door shut.
“Noelle, why are you whispering?” Lia is the head coordinator of Prestige Partners.
“Long story. What do you need?” I whisper again. Just then, the door rattles. I hang up and dive under the bed. I’m met with some empty bottles of water, dust bunnies, and a pair of shoes that has seen better days.
“Donavan, I want to…” I can’t hear the rest because he switches on the radio. I am sweating, and the phone in my hand is vibrating.
I was thinking, Noelle, move. Just as I was about to, the bed sinks over me, right above my nose.
Then I hear a moan. “Treat meh ight, Donavan.”
“Sandra…meh bust the pussy up.”
Wait a minute. Are they going to…?
