Page 159 of Own It

“Making me think about you bouncing on something else,” I half joked, adjusting myself on the low.

“It’s so beautiful out here.” Daylin seemingly ignored me, moving across my lap to peer out of my window instead of her own.

“Quit playing.” I smacked her round ass, making her giggle. “You think it’s funny now, but when you need a wheelchair escort for dinner, I don’t wanna hear it.”

She guffawed, making me chuckle as I took her in just before the back door came open.

“Welcome to Cavo Tagoo,” the young white woman greeted, beaming.

“Thank you!” Daylin answered as I helped her down while I simply nodded at old girl.

“I got the bags and shit. I just need a cart,” I stated, and she nodded.

A cart was delivered expeditiously, and I piled everything on before we checked in and got the room keys.

I’d booked a suite, the biggest one of the one bedrooms since I didn’t want a lick of fucking space from Daylin. That way, if she did get upset on the trip, she’d be forced to still lie next to a nigga or at least not go too far.

“This room!” Daylin squealed, rushing right to the view the suite provided.

We had our own private pool, with two beds suspended above it, and a perfect panorama of the sea. Shit was peaceful, but only because I was here with her.

Setting our bags down, I watched my lady peruse the suite excitedly, grinning over at me as she held up whatever had caught her eye, and I knew this was what the fuck it felt like to be in love for real. Seeing her excited, happy, and fulfilled made a nigga feel like he was worthy of everything. I never knew that feeling.

With LaMia, I did nice shit for her because that was part of courting a woman. A nigga who complained about buying flowers or taking his lady on dinner dates or doing anything nice for his girl most likely wanted to be doing it for niggas or have a nigga do it for him. Real niggas enjoyed treating a woman like a woman and experiencing all there was to women.

But I digressed. I didn’t get overcome with elation seeing LaMia enjoy shit I did for her like with Daylin. Every fucking day I opened my eyes, I thought about how I could make sure her day went smoothly and without a hitch. Shit was unreal.

“What you wanna do first?” I asked as she neared me, standing on her tiptoes to attempt to toss her arms around my neck.

We’d showered on the jet and changed clothes shortly before landing so we could explore a bit before getting ready for dinner later.

Daylin kissed me on the lips as I held her up—she was too short for me not to. She sucked my bottom lip into her mouth, pulling back with a lustful gaze before making me put her down.

“I wanna suck your dick,” she stated explicitly, reaching down into my joggers, and I put my hands up to let her do her thing.

And that, she fucking did.

LATER THAT EVENING . . .

After getting that balance ruining head, I needed a minute, and to clean up. But once Daylin and I had both spruced up, we left out to shop on Matoyianni Street, where I told Daylin to go crazy. She tried to be humble at first, but after we stopped for drinks and light food, she started using my money as if I were growing that shit in my backyard, and I wasn’t complaining.

Now, after fucking, taking a nap, then showering together and brushing our teeth, it was time to go out to dinner at this spot called Meraki.

“Right this way.” The hostess simpered before leading us off to our table that sat along the beach.

We could see other hotels and homes across the water and a big ass cruise ship sailing by as I pulled Daylin’s seat out for her.

“This place is so beautiful, and the weather is perfect all day.” Daylin beamed. She wore a pretty blue dress that complemented her caramel skin perfectly and allowed her curly hair to blow freely in the welcomed breeze. I could only shake my head subtly at how striking baby girl was as she talked. “It’s nice to pick an outfit and be able to keep it on from sunup to sundown, unlike back home.”

“Facts.” I chuckled, remembering the few times Daylin would leave the crib in a dress, but because LA got cold as fuck once the sun vanished, we’d have to venture home so she could change. I imagined that shit to be daunting as a woman, but as a man, I wasn’t bothered by the cold like that.

The waitress approached, introducing herself, and then took some drink orders. Daylin got some shit called Black Ambrosia while I got some cognac straight.

“You should try a fancy drink once, Rah. You don’t have to be so boring.” She rolled her eyes playfully.

“Boring niggas have yo’ feet touching the headboard?” I frowned out of playful confusion, snickering when she sucked her teeth.

“Shut up. And yes, a boring man could possibly do that.” She giggled before she could even finish, knowing she was lying like fuck.