After feasting on Adora’s sweet pussy until she wet my face up, I used all of my fucking strength to lay next to her and just sleep. Every inch of me wanted to be deep inside of her sweet pussy but I refrained and cursed myself out the whole fucking time for not having a condom. Around midnight, we fell asleep with her laying on my chest and we woke up the same way about thirty minutes ago.
“Breakfast instead of brunch?” she asks when I walk out of the bathroom. This morning, her curves aren’t hiding in a pair of sweats. They are on full display in the green and black dress, hugging her body. “My baby girl just called and she’s ready for me to get them,” she adds.
“For baby girl, we can cancel. I don’t want to keep you from them.”
“She just woke up and my bestie is taking them to get breakfast. She’s fine. Plus, we have to eat too,” she says while stepping toward me. “There’s a restaurant in the lobby or we can do Redmond’s; they have breakfast on the weekends.”
Her arms wrap around my neck and mine go around her waist. Adora has me hooked already. After just one night with her, I’m all in. I want whatever she’s offering and I’ll say yes to any fucking thing she wants,anything.I’ve kissed and claimed both sets of her soft ass lips; I ain’t letting up off her.
“I’m cool with whatever you choose. I’ve already checked you out, so we can go,” I tell her.
“Already checked me out?” she questions with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah. The iPad by the bed flashed with a reminder so I handled that.”
While squinting, she tilts her head to the side then drops her shoulders. “What did you do?” she asks before looking at the table by the bed. After grabbing the iPad and checking it, she turns to face me with a huge smile on her face. “Xai!” she exclaims. “You didn’t have to pay for my room and my spa treatments. My card was on file but thank you.”
“You let me crash in on your little stay-in vacation so I had to.”
Still smiling, she places the iPad back on the table and looks back at me. “A staycation,” she says, playfully correcting me. “But for real, thank you so much, for everything. You really made my weekend.” She leans in and kisses me.
“You can drunk text me anytime.”
“Tipsy text,” she insists. “Let’s get food though. We can do breakfast at Redmond’s and I’m paying.”
“We’ll see,” I say, knowing I’m not letting her pay.
“I’m paying,” she insists before pecking my lips again.
“You ready?” I ask as I stand.
“Yeah, I just need to add one thing to my bag.”
She walks back into the bathroom then walks out seconds later with a small bag in her hand. She adds it to her luggage open on the bed then closes it. When she starts to lift it from the bed, I stop her and grab the handle, following her out of the bedroom and suite. Since we both valeted and she has to get her daughters after we eat, we take our own rides to Redmond’s.
When we pull up, it’s as crowded as expected. Redmond’s is one of the oldest and most popular restaurants in the city and the food is good as hell. I spot someone leaving a parking space up front, so I wave her toward it then find one in the back of the lot. After I park, I meet her in the line.
“You’ve had their breakfast?” she asks.
“Yeah, too many times. There should be a picture of me on that wall,” I tease as I nod toward the wall of fame that features local celebrities and athletes. “I can’t do shit in the kitchen but I have to eat. This is the best thing next to home cooking.”
“I can cook but I can’t make croquettes and my grits never turn out like theirs,” she says.
“That’s what you’re getting?”
“Absolutely. Salmon croquettes and grits with cheese. It’s the best. What are you getting?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admit because I can smash anything on this menu.
By the time we make it to the counter though, I decide on fried chicken wings and eggs with potatoes. She orders her croquettes and we both get the lemonade. While she tries to pull her shit out of her bag to pay, I pull a fifty out and pay. I grab our order number and we find a table in the middle by the wall. Adora grabs the plasticware and a bottle of hot sauce when we pass the self-serve area, then we sit.
“Thanks again but I told you I had breakfast,” she says after sipping from her cup.
“Nah. You keep your bread for you and your daughters. You sure you don’t want to get something for them?” I ask.
“They’re having breakfast with my bestie.” She pulls out her cell, glances at it, then places it on the table. On the screen, there’s a picture of her and two pretty little girls with her face and eyes.
“Your daughters?” I ask, nodding toward her screen.
