Cheyla mumbled okay and walked off. Opening the second drawer on her dresser, Orielle pulled out a pair of leggings before grabbing an oversized T-shirt from another drawer. She slid both onto her body, before inserting her feet into her house shoes, and grabbed her phone from the bed.
The spread of food they laid out on her high-top dining table made Orielle’s stomach growl. She still had a slight buzz from the night before, and it wasn’t because of the edible she’d eaten.
Orielle cleared her throat. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, sleepy head. You look well-rested and refreshed,” Zoey teased, knowing she looked anything but.
“More like well fucked to me.” Cheyla gave her the side eye and lifted a brow.
“And is.” Orielle chuckled, rubbing her eye.
Zoey stopped chewing. “What? You’re lying.”
“No, she’s not,” Cheyla said, giggling. “I told you she was over there getting put through the damn mattress.”
“It was actually a couch, but okay.” Orielle smirked while scooping eggs onto her plate. She winced while sitting in one of the chairs, and Cheyla amusedly shook her head.
Zoey hollered. “Oh, my gosh. That’s why your location was at the studio for so long.”
They were waiting for Orielle to confirm her suspicions, but she didn’t say anything. She took a bite of her turkey bacon and eyed them.
“Girl, say something, damn,” Cheyla fussed. “You being all hush-hush like you don’t want to tell us.”
“Right. If you don’t like us anymore, just say that,” Zoey added.
Snickering, Orielle drank some of the warm green tea they brought her. Though their visit was unexpected, she appreciated her girls for always coming through.
“I really should preserve my voice. I overworked it last night.”
Cheyla and Zoey turned their heads toward one another, and they smirked before loudly clapping. Orielle couldn’t mask the smile on her face if she tried.
“I know that’s right!” Zoey celebrated, affirming her like only a Black woman could.
Orielle had no intentions of having sex with Najee last night.
As a woman, there was always a ninety-nine percent chance of knowing whether she’d give the goodies up to a man. There was always intentionality behind her decision, yet last night proved otherwise. Besides just wanting to feel his mouth on her lady parts while rubbing the waves in his head, Orielle had no explanation to give for riding Najee’s dick the way she had.
There was no motive behind it, and that wasn’t typically her style, but she wasn’t regretting her choices. It’d been the best damn ones she’d made in a very long time.
“So, you can barely walk or sit down. Your voice is gone, and had you been of a lighter complexion, that hickey on your neck would be easily detected.”
Cheyla’s observations made Orielle brush her hand across both sides of her neck. She wasn’t sure where Najee had left his mark and obviously didn’t care, judging from her nonchalant mood. It was anything a bit of foundation couldn’t cover up.
“Mhm,” Zoey hummed. “That tells us everything we need to know.”
“That dick was good, huh?” Cheyla asked.
“Stupendous, actually. Gave very much,that dick makes my soul smile. That dick makes me so damn proud.”
Breaking out into a Jhené Aiko song to describe the way Najee laid that dick down was so Orielle-coded. She’d written entire songs about him, so of course, hitting a few gravelly notes was nothing. They were lucky she hadn’t put on a full performance because that’s truly what he deserved.
“Not you the pussy fairy!” Zoey shouted.
“I can’t believe this.” Cheyla snickered.
Orielle shrugged. “Honestly, I can’t either. I’d blame it on me being high, but that wasn’t even the case.”
“Well, tell us what happened. The last time we talked, he was bringing you some food before you went home,” Zoey said.
