“I can’t argue with that,” she blushed. “It means you approve, right? I look pretty?”
“Pretty like Mona Lisa love.”
Her hair was pretty as fuck too—so different from the curly hair she always flaunted. It framed her face perfectly.
Then I caught a whiff of her neck. “You know what the fuck that peach scent does to me.”
“That’s why I wore it, Romelo,” she whimpered at the feel of me grazing my tongue over her neck and ear, licking the gold dangling hoop earrings.
“We ain’t gon’ make these reservations, love,” I growled in her ear.
“Romelooo,” she whined. “I didn’t get this cute just for you to mess it up.”
I couldn’t let go—shit felt magnetic with her. I was always drawn to her energy, wanting to be stuck there.
“I’m fucking you my way tonight, Juicy. Ain’t no runnin’ from this dick. I want you face down, ass up, taking this dick like a good girl. You hear me?” I gripped the cusp of her chin, gazing into her eyes.
“Yes sir,” she mumbled.
With a grin, I kissed her lips, then adjusted my posture to pass her the roses. Her mouth hung open as she gawked at them. My mama used to tell me all the time: buying a woman flowers means a lot because it shows you took time out of your day to think about her. Seeing Synthia’s reaction now, made the price worth it. Girls love red roses. Girls appreciate red roses too.
I pulled my phone out and snapped a few pictures of her to post later, then held the door open so we could head to our destination.
“You’re getting pretty good at this stuff?” she spoke up.
I turned the volume down onI Hope It’s Youby Donnell Jones, just enough to hear her, but still enjoy the song.
I reached over as I pulled the car out the driveway and grabbed her exposed thigh. Her body shimmered like she’d dipped herself in gold or something, and the stars on the roof highlighted her glow, making her sexiness impossible to ignore.
Glancing over, my brow furrowed in confusion. “What you mean?”
“The princess treatment,” she answered.
“Oh yeah,” I nodded. “I’m trying—taking it one step at a time.”
“Don’t ever lose it,” she said.
“You’ll make it impossible not to court you. You deserve it, Juicy. In this life and the next.”
“Do you ever think about how life would be without me?”
“What?”
She cleared her throat. “If you didn’t come by that Sunday.”
I looked ahead, paying attention to the road. “I’d be stuck in a relationship that didn’t deserve my best.”
“You know I, um—” she paused, shifting in her seat. “I visited her.”
“Trecee,” I clarified.
Synthia nodded, toyed with one of the rose petals.
“How’d it go?”
“We didn’t say much. It was sort of awkward.”
“How you feel?”
