She grabbed my shirt, pulling me down to her.
Her lips parted, and I slipped my tongue inside– yeah, she wanted this shit. soft moans told me she wanted it as she melted into me.
My hands dropped to her ass, and she pulled back already unbuttoning my shirt. I unzipped her dress from the front then slipped it over her head, stepping back to take her in– nude on her chocolate skin, sexy as hell. I turned her around, taking my time.
Her ass sat nicely, cuffs deep, small tattoos scattered across her back– discreet, intentional. I kissed the butterfly tatted on the front of her shoulder, breathing her in. She smelled sweet, but not soft. It fit her.
My hand slid around her neck, applying light pressure.
“Tell me to be gentle, I will, but that’s only gon’ happen for so long.”
“I want you… however that may feel,” she whispered, the smile in her voice gave her away.
“Consequences, pretty teeth.”
“Life is about choices. I’m making a choice to be yours tonight.”
Her lips parted with a smirk, welcoming damage and inviting danger. Eris wanted to feel something she hadn’t in a while. Alive.
The room went quiet except for the sound of her breathing and thumping of her heart. I pushed her back on the bed, watching something shift in her.
Her scent wrapped around me. Her juices seeped through the mesh material, hiding that she wanted me to fuck her in the worst way. She didn’t care about what happens after. She just wanted to feel.
She didn’t have time to think as I slid into her.
Warm.
My name was the only thing she gasped, like she needed it to breathe.
I watched the sun come up as the morning crept in. I had been up for hours. Routine.
Eris was curled up, beside me, chest rising and falling as she slept. Hair sprawled with one hand resting against my shoulder. She let herself live, and thanked me for it before falling asleep.
Soreness settled into my body throughout the night. After a few more minutes, I slipped out the bed without a word. Showered. Dressed. Packed my shit. She never woke.
I left some bread, hit security, ordered her a car and walked out.
With Miami’s coast in my rearview, I pushed Eris out my mind. The highway stretched miles ahead. Ten hours was long enough for me to get back on my shit.
Back in Atlanta
When I touched down, my right-hand City was already at my crib. I didn’t even throw the mothafuckin’ truck in park before his ass bopped his way over to me. He’s at my crib more than me.
“What’s up, Champ?” he greeted, dapping me up.
I chuckled. “Damn, nigga, you at my shit like a bitch.
He glanced back over his shoulder with a smirk.
Grabbing my bag out the truck, City followed me into the crib. As soon as I stepped in, my body settled. I travel often for numerous reasons, but nothing compares to being in your ownshit. Dropping my bag on the couch, I headed for the fridge, grabbing a few waters before making our way to the living room.
“You got that under control?” I asked.
“Put it on ice, but you know they’re putting you in that nigga Lamar’s mix.”
Looking at him over the rim of the bottle, I didn’t respond. Mothafuckas love to spread shit– mostly to hear themselves talk. I push past it. If it ain’t about money, it ain’t about me. The streets talk. It’s the answering that gets you jammed.
“You came over here to gossip, nigga?” I asked.
