If you loved Weekend in Paradise, check out a snippet from my other hot, steamy read, Dangerous Curves Ahead. It’s a scorcher.

AVERIE

Murphy’s Law would be in full force on a morning like this, so I decided to push through with the messy bun and an all-black outfit this morning.

I worked at Honeywild, a boutique agency in Atlanta. It wasn’t national in scale, but the company had enough clout to score work with Atlanta’s elite. As a junior strategist, I did some of everything, to build my skills outside of just writing.

Whoever we were going to meet, was of serious importance, someone beyond the regular local elite we worked with.

I looked in the mirror, hoping I gave the best possible impression. I paired a simple black shirt with black skinny pants accented with black rhinestones against the pocket.

Obsidian black Tieks ballet flats, a messy bun and nude lips with eyeliner and diamond studs completed the look. I looked like Janet Jackson, a la the Control era, if you let me tell it.

My Lyft pulled up just in time. It was 7:35 AM. I had 55 minutes to get to work on time, and I hadn’t even gotten breakfast. My tummy growled, but it would have to wait. I wouldn’t risk being late for this project.

The driver exited his side of the black SUV. As he walked to my side, I noticed he was tall, dark, and handsome, just as I liked them. His arms were ripped, and the smallest of movements could make those muscles ripple so deliciously.

Standing at 6’2,” his physique was super chiseled. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was his side job. He was too chiseled to simply be a Lyft driver.

“Good morning.”

His smooth baritone was crisp, and I felt my panties get a little moist. I loved a deep, smooth voice, especially when it came attached to chiseled chocolate skin.

He held open the front passenger door. I climbed up and settled in, not lost on the Bleu de Chanel cologne he wore. I recognized it because my brother wore it. On him, however, it smelled amazing.

“Good morning. Thanks for getting the door.” I smiled to show a little southern charm.

I noticed the Atlanta Falcons floor mats and smiled. This was the A, everyone loved the Falcons. Even though they’d just lost to the Patriots in the Super Bowl, we were still proud. It was the second time in franchise history that they’d even made the Bowl. Everyone felt it was only a matter of time before the city had a ring.

“How are you this morning?”

“I’m okay,” I said. “It’s been a crazy one so far. I just want to get through the day.”

“Really?” He pulled onto the main road. “It’s only 7:30 AM.”

“I know, but today’s a big day.”

“Why?”

“I need to get to work on time. We have a big meeting today, and you have to be there in order to be a part of it.”

“Sounds lucrative. What kind of work do you do?”

“I work at Honeywild. Off Peachtree?”

“That celebrity marketing agency? That’s the one all the celebrities go to, right?”

“Yes.” It made me beam that someone recognized the brand.

“You must be loaded then.” He flashed a flirtatious smile and I melted. Damn his teeth were pretty. Even though his eyes were covered with shades I could feel him size me up, and I felt my nipples harden at the way his gaze swept over my thighs.

“No,” I chuckled. “I just graduated last year. I’m just a junior strategist. I’m not one of the big dogs.”

“You’ll be in no time,” he said with certainty. “Say, you like football?”

“I love football,” I said. “I see you reppin’ with the Falcons floor mats.” I gestured to them, giving a thumbs up while nodding in approval.

He chuckled as he turned onto I-20. “Yeah, the Falcons. Those my boys. Rise up!”

“I love them too,” I said. “I just wish we’d won that damned Super Bowl.”

He released a long sigh. “Yeah… I don’t know how they gave up the game like that.”

“Laziness. You can’t be lazy against the Patriots. They may be cheaters, but they actually won that game by never giving up. That last quarter destroyed me.”

That game violated my spirit. If there was anything I was counting on, it was spending the rest of the year screaming that we were Super Bowl champs. Atlanta is a great city but our major teams - all but one - have yet to get us a championship win.

“You? All the strippers in Atlanta put their pants back on and went home early that night.”

We laughed at that visual.

“Who’s your favorite player?”

“Hmm. I have a few. Julio Jones went hard the whole season. He’s just nice…”

“What about DeVante Casillas?”

“I was saving the best for last because I love him!” I squealed.

DeVante was so sexy and relatable. He was older, but he had the body of a college kid, and a great million dollar smile. I can’t even begin to think about the number of times I’d fantasized about making love to him on the 50 yard line.

“That old man?” His neck jerked in disbelief. “Isn’t he like 50?”

“He’s 37 or 38, but so what? He’s at the top of his game. He’s got 6 touchdowns just like Julio, but everyone’s all over Julio.”

“You’re right. But he’s an old man. He ain’t got that much time left in him.”

Ooooh, that burned me. DeVante Casillas’s age meant nothing - especially when you saw him on the field. Or saw him shirtless. Those abs…

“Have you been paying attention this season?” I shot back. “That man has been a playmaker for over fifteen years. He’s consistent. Let’s see where Julio is at 35, much less 38.”

“Oooh. You’re a little defensive when it comes to that guy.” The driver noticed. He held up his hand in surrender. “My bad. I wasn’t trying to start anything. I just wanted to have a little conversation.”

I blushed with embarrassment. Shit, I was so obvious.

“I’m sorry. I’m just protective of him. He’s my absolute fave. Everyone can ride Julio and Roddy White. I’m team Casillas.”

I pressed the button on my phone, showing him the lock screen. DeVante’s picture was proudly displayed.

“I’m not into guys, but he aight I guess. What do you like about him? What makes him your fave?” He playfully emulated my tone and inflection.

“Well for one, he’s an amazing player with a lot of drive and stamina. He said he’s not retiring until he gets a ring, and I believe him. He might be close to 40 but even Tony Gonzalez played until he was that age. Ambition is the biggest form of sex appeal for me. And that smile? His personality? That great sense of humor? He’s like, a walking fantasy.”

We pulled up to the Honeywild building as I continued to gush on everything, from his stats to his social media posts, hanging out with other NFL stars like Antonio Brown and Odell Beckham Jr. He was just ageless and hot.

“Yeah, I guess you have a point,” the driver as he slowed to a stop. “DeVante Casillas is the man.”

“Or should I say,” he paused, “I’m the man.”

He pulled off his sunglasses and hat, revealing that signature curly fade and trademark smile.

My heart jumpstarted, speeding up five million times its normal rate. The man of my dreams, the sexiest man alive, my favorite athlete - DeVante CASILLAS - was my Lyft driver.

And I had literally just confessed my damn love to him.

DEVANTE

There’s nothing like seeing someone shift when they realize you’re not just another person on the street, but one of their favorite athletes. As an athlete yourself, you live for being an inspiration, for driving others to pursue their dreams, and to remind them excellence is not out of reach.

The moment I revealed my identity, the beautiful creature across the front seat gasped and froze. I pointed to the hidden cameras in the windshield and visors.

“You’ve been on camera the entire time,” I said. “This ride was sponsored by Lyft.”

“Oh, my god.” She looked at the cameras, and burst into nervous giggles. Her cheeks blushed and she covered her mouth in shock. “What?!”

The way her breath hitched was so sexy. I couldn’t help but imagine how much sexier it would sound if I grabbed her and pulled her close to me. I wanted to inhale that sweet amber and vanilla fragrance she wore more closely.

I reached over and she hugged me, kicking her legs with giddiness.

“Oh, my god… ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.” She started shaking lightly. “I can’t believe this is happening!”

She looked me in the eyes, and I felt my heart skip. I saw something flash in hers too. Her pupils widened momentarily as we stared at each other. I realized I could look into those gorgeous eyes of hers all day when she abruptly pulled back to her side of the vehicle.

Clearing her throat, she said, “I’m sorry. I just got really carried away. You’re my favorite player, like seriously, and it sucks that you guys didn’t win the Super Bowl after all that hard work you did.”

She continued to go on and on about her love and support for me. I don’t remember a whole lot of it, because I was busy zoning in on the artistic sculpt of her lips. Her lips were perfectly shaped with a Cupid’s bow that made you want to kiss her all day.

God took His time when He made her.

I exited the car and walked around to her side.

“Every good driver should show chivalry,” I said, opening the door to assist her. Of course, I wanted to be chivalrous, but another part of me that wanted to take a good look at her and that body.

Lord knows I’ve seen some beautiful women with amazing curves. Exotic women from all around the world with delectable foreign mixes and features you couldn’t pay Dr. Miami to produce. But there’s nothing like a natural woman with organic curves produced from good Southern eating, especially in a city like Atlanta, where women nipped and tucked everything.

“Come on out, sweetheart.” I offered my hand. As I helped her out the car, several cameramen slowly walked up, keeping their distance while getting close enough to catch me assist her and pull her into a hug.

“Awwww.” One of the cameramen said. “Looks like Averie was the lucky rider this morning!”

Averie. That name would almost be too cute and humble for such a magnificent beauty, but it fit her perfectly like tight lyrics over a thumping beat.

Averie sounded sweet. Sultry. Demure. Three words that summed up the impression I got as she stepped out of the truck. Her thick thighs gathered themselves from the seat and morphed into sculpted drumsticks. The leggings were so perfectly wrapped around her, I wanted to take a bite, right in that juicy hip.

Averie was a thick Southern woman, and when she turned around to face the cameras, I got a good look at that thick Southern ass. It was hefty, round, and plump. Those fat ass cheeks gave me life and my dick threatened to rise to the occasion.

Thankfully, it stayed put.

She turned around, giving me a view of that perfect face with those masterpiece lips and gorgeous eyes. I felt a pang in my spirit. The distant ache was all too familiar. Forbidden contemplations floated to the surface of my mind; aching thoughts that had been long suppressed and pushed beneath.

Before my thoughts could pull me out of the moment, she held out her phone.

“I’m way too short. Would you mind snapping a selfie of us? Please?” She pleaded. “Do it for the ‘Gram?”

I laughed. “Sure thing, little mama.”

I pulled her close and we took several photos, of course making sure the angles were perfect. If a woman didn’t look absolutely perfect in her photo, she wouldn’t post it. We even did a video so everyone would know it was real.

“Thanks so much!” She smiled and my heart melted. She had a brightness about her that wasn’t cosmetic. She was barely wearing any makeup to begin with, just nude lip color and some sexy black eyeliner. She this ethereal glow, but it was clearly from within. She was young, but she was clearly at peace with herself. I’d never seen anything more fucking attractive.

Gentle sadness covered her face as she realized we were at the end of this experience. “I wish I could have realized I was in the car with you,” she lamented. “We could have had a real conversation.”

“We did have a real conversation,” I teased. “We spoke about football, and how great I am.”

She blushed, possibly remembering her defensiveness when I made fun of myself.

“It was great meeting you,” she replied, giving me that warm smile, accented with perfect teeth. “Let me go inside before I lose my job. We have an important meeting and I’m out here… I mean, I’d rather be out here, but I need my job, and I’ve only got five minutes to get upstairs.”

“Alright.” I stepped back, slipping on my shades. I wanted to stare at every toss and jiggle of that ass as she walked in. “You have a great day, beautiful. And tag me on Instagram so I can repost the pictures to my account too.”

She giggled and nodded at those words. She waved softly before turning and walking into the building. She did her best to maintain her cool, but I could detect the extra bounce in her step. It amplified every ounce of that booty meat and her curves as she sashayed into the building.

God, how was she was so insanely sexy, intensely beautiful, and yet still inexplicably adorable and bashful all at once?How?!

“This is so cool,” one of the cameramen said. “She’s actually a huge fan of yours. She’s got you on her computer desktop and everything.”

“Really?” That made me smile for some reason.

He put the camera down. “She’s going to pass the hell out when she realizes you’re the client.”