I hadn’t slept this well in years.

Honestly, the last time I’d slept this well - and without interruption - was probably when I was still in my mama’s stomach; God rest her soul. But there was something about having Aspen’s naked body draped across mine as she slept off the rounds of sex from the night before that allowed me to sleep like a baby and wake up feeling like one too.

A happy ass baby.

How I’d gone from strangers to lovers with a woman like Aspen Watson in the matter of a few hours wasn’t something I could dwell on, feeling more thankful than anything that the universe thought I was deserving. But I suppose that’s what this particular season was all about; being grateful and giving thanks. And I was more than excited to show every bit of my appreciation when I started landing little kisses against Aspen’s forehead, sitting up to deliver those same kisses to her shoulder blade as she woke up giggling in response.

Her voice was groggy when she said, “Good morning to you too,” running a hand down my beard before she used it to tug me towards her for a kiss.

A morning kiss with morning breath that I greedily accepted, stealing one myself before I asked, “How you feelin’, little mama?”

Gnawing into her lip as if she was reliving the night before in her mind, she answered, “I feel amazing, actually. How are you feeling, Orlando?”

With a content sigh, I told her, “Better than I have in years if we’re being real.”

It wasn’t that I’d lived a completely unhappy life, and the last few months had definitely been filled with plenty of highlights. But there was something about making myself a little vulnerable, being understood, and then the sex plus the good sleep that followed that had me waking up on cloud nine; Aspen only making that even more potent as she rubbed a gentle hand against my cheek and replied, “That’s what I like about you. Your realness.”

When she moved to climb from the bed, I thought about pulling her back but was glad I hadn’t since there was nothing like seeing Aspen’s naked body from behind under the morning sun beaming through the window, her skin legit glowing as she headed towards the closet and asked, “Does all that feeling better than you have in years have anything to do with me?”

“It has everything to do with you. Last night felt like a dream,” I admitted, not even caring about sounding like a fuckin’ simp.

It was what it was. The whole truth. And Aspen seemed happy to hear it, pulling on one of the hotel’s robes as she questioned, “If last night felt like a dream, what’s this morning feel like?”

I shrugged. “Shit, this gotta be heaven or somethin’. I don’t know.”

Her sweet little giggle in response made my dick flex under the cover, though it went right back flaccid when she teased, “You’re so cute.”

Frowning, I repeated, “Cute? Nah, Aspen. I’ll be a lot of things for you, but cute ain’t one of ‘em.”

“Well stop being so cute then,” she challenged with a smirk, grabbing the menu from the nightstand as she crawled back onto the bed. “Should we order room service?”

“You mean, you ain’t ready to get rid of me yet?” I asked as she moved even closer to me, practically straddling my lap by the time she made herself comfortable and answered my question.

“Oh, hell no. Unless… you’re ready for me to get rid of you?”

With my hands at her waist, I reminded her, “Like I told you last night, I’m not letting that shit happen again. I’m here for as long as you’ll have me.”

How long that was, I wasn’t sure. But again, I wasn’t letting myself worry about that, right now my focus being on Aspen’s pretty ass smirk as she dropped the menu to plant her hands against my shoulders and asked, “So that means you’ll be joining me and the fam for Thanksgiving dinner at Nori and Maxwell’s too, right?”

“Should’ve known all this sexy ass shit was a set-up,” I thought, avoiding her eyes as I stammered, “Ahh… I mean… I didn’t say all that, but…”

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun. I mean, it’s not like these people are total strangers to you. And my auntie Marie makes the best macaroni and cheese you’ll ever taste.”

Considering it had been a good minute since the last time I had some auntie-certified mac and cheese and I didn’t really have any other plans for the day outside of watching football, I was already sold on her invitation. But having Aspen still pantyless in my lap put my mind in a different space, just the thought of having her for my Thanksgiving meal making my mouth water when I asked, “Who can think about tasting macaroni and cheese with your fire ass pussy this close to me?”

She grinned at that, only encouraging me to, at least, have a piece of her for breakfast as I told her, “Come ‘ere, Aspen.”

She started to only lift her hips, but I lifted her completely to a standing position on the mattress, moving so her pussy straddled my face before I pulled her down onto my mouth. The front of her robe was smashed against my eyes, but I didn’t care, not needing to see a thing to devour her like my final meal request on death row. And when Aspen did remove the tie of her robe, it only made things all the better, the look of pleasure on her face and the bounce in her titties as she rode my mouth only making me go harder, imprinting the tip of my tongue on her clit until she damn near stopped breathing before she collapsed against me with an orgasm.

She must’ve thought her tapping out equated to me being done. But that wasn’t the case at all as I gripped into the back of her thighs to keep her steady as I continued to taste her, her juices coating my beard like a moisturizer by the time I finally let up after licking her through a second orgasm. And it was the second one that made her too weak to move, relying on my help to get back down into a sitting position on the mattress as she groaned, “God, I wish I could pack you up in my luggage and take you everywhere with me.”

With a chuckle, I moved from the bed to head to the bathroom, grabbing my boxers on the way and tossing over my shoulder, “I don’t think my clients down at the shop would be very happy about that.”

“I’m still mad at you for not telling me you were a barber, though,” she shouted back, making me chuckle again since it was literally the only thing she hadn’t asked me about.

After taking a long piss, I moved to wash my hands, shaking my head at myself in the mirror since my face looked crazy as hell. “Well worth it, though,” I thought as I grabbed a washcloth to clean up just as Aspen joined me in the bathroom after finally making that call for room service.

She made herself comfortable sitting on the counter, the trail of wetness running from her thigh to her ankle making me smirk until she asked, “How’d you get into cutting hair?”

It wasn’t exactly the most heartwarming story which was why I mostly kept it to myself. But something about Aspen had me comfortable enough to give her the full truth, scrubbing my face clean as I answered, “My uncle’s influence. My mother passed when I was young, and my father was in and out of jail all my life. So whenever he was in, I’d be with my uncle down at the shop learning the craft.”

“And when your father was out?”

“When he was out… I’d be on the same shit that landed him in jail over and over again.”

It sounded ridiculous now, but it was the truth, my father’s connection to the game the only reason I was ever a part of it. I didn’t necessarily want to be like him, but I also couldn’t help my desire for his approval which came off as me doing whatever he wanted for me to get it – being like him.

Without pressing for details, Aspen asked, “The very, very real past life, right?”

Nodding, I rinsed my cloth, giving it a squeeze to wring it out before I ran it over my face again and answered, “Yeah, which is crazy to think about cause we’re talking about my real dad, my blood. He was supposed to have my back, steer me in the right direction and all that. But I got in the most trouble with him; behind his shit, tryna live his lifestyle.”

Again, ridiculous as fuck. But Aspen wasn’t judging, only nodding along before she followed up, “So what made you decide enough was enough?”

“I got shot.”

The look of surprise on her face in response was expected. And knowing Aspen, I figured another question for details was coming so I continued, “Thankfully, it went right through the flesh and didn’t cause any nerve damage or anything like that. But a bullet to the ass cheek will have you rethinking that lifestyle real quick.”

I said it with a laugh, but it really wasn’t all that funny since a few centimeters to the left could’ve made a world of difference. But it wasn’t just the bullet with my father’s name on it that made my decision, more so his reaction to me taking it; something I felt compelled to share since that part was what really answered Aspen’s question.

She was completely tuned in as I explained, “Of course my father was on some retaliation shit off the rip. I’m talking, in the hospital with me calling his niggas from the block before I even knew if I was gonna be alright or not. But it was in that same hospital bed that I got a DM on Instagram from Tiana asking if I’d be interested in taking a booth at her shop, wanting to add someone who specialized in more artistic haircut designs and shit. I took her offer and I never looked back.”

Now that we’d made it to something like the happy-for-now of my little story, a sneaky grin grew to Aspen’s lips when she asked, “So you know I gotta see your booty cheek wound now, right?”

My eyebrow piqued with amusement. “You playin’, right?”

To answer my question, she grabbed my hand to pull me between her legs, pinching at the waistband of my boxers as she teased, “Drop those drawers, Orlando. Lemme see.”

Shaking my head with a chuckle, I turned around and pulled them down just enough for her to see. But I wished I hadn’t once I heard her suggest, “It kinda looks like a butterfly. Or maybe a Bat signal...”

“Aight, aight. You got the picture,” I told her as I yanked them up, getting ready to leave the bathroom until she caught me by the wrist with a, “Hey.”

She pulled me back between her legs, wrapping her arms around my neck when she said, “Thank you for showing me that. And for sharing all of that with me.”

It had come so easy that I honestly hadn’t even considered the magnitude until she was thanking me for being open. But the truth was, “You should feel special, little mama. Not a lot of people get that much out of me. Not exactly the easiest thing to talk about.”

“I can only imagine,” she agreed with an empathetic nod.

Still, her empathy didn’t stop me from insisting, “Aight, now you gotta tell me about you so I’m not the only sucka in the room.”

With one of her little giggles, she replied, “You’re not a sucka, Orlando. You’ve just… lived a life. We all have.”

“Then tell me something about you that I can’t find on Google,” I challenged, not surprised to see the way she immediately averted her eyes before she dropped her hands onto the counter.

She was uncomfortable.

But considering I’d just been in the same position, I didn’t back down, giving her all the time she needed to contemplate, and sigh, and close her eyes to gather herself before she eventually opened them and shared, “I… was also mostly raised by my father before he passed a few years ago because, like you, my mother passed away when I was young. I’ve always known I wanted to be on the big screen, but I didn’t necessarily have the look for it growing up, so people never really believed in my dreams; believed in me. Because of that, I was extremely insecure, and honestly still battle with that even now. But I’m happy to be doing what I love and proving people wrong in the process.”

Without going into lots of details, she had managed to package her response in a way that told me she was trying; something I could appreciate when I complimented, “I gotta hand it to you. You’re damn good at what you do, Aspen.”

While I admittedly hadn’t seen everything she’d be featured in, I’d seen enough to know she was talented as hell. And even if she still battled with her insecurities like she claimed to, she owned her talent in a way that had her smirking once she replied, “And this is only the beginning.”

I wholeheartedly believed her. And now that I felt like I knew her on a more intimate level, I’d be rooting for her success even harder than I had been as a bystander. But before I could dive any deeper into her business, there was a knock on the door from room service, prompting Aspen to hop off the counter so she could answer it.

Since I wasn’t exactly dressed, I stayed in the bedroom while she went to handle it, waiting until I heard the suite door close before I showed my face. And by the time I made it out, Aspen already had a piece of bacon in her mouth, groaning until she noticed me watching and said, “Don’t tell anybody about this.”

Even though I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, I still replied, “Shit, I ain’t gotta choice but to keep your secret now. I caught you bashin’ the swine and you saw my... butterfly Bat signal ass wound. We’re practically even.”

The reminder made her snort a chuckle as I continued, “You breaking code eating breakfast on Thanksgiving, though. You know you’re supposed to starve all day until the real meal.”

Let my folks back home tell it, starving all day made the food taste better. But Aspen didn’t care either way, smirking against the crunch of her bacon before she fired back, “Shouldn’t have worked up my appetite if you expected me to be able to starve myself.”

Now I was the one smirking. “I’d work it up even more right now, but I don’t want your food to get cold.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You think all of this is for me? Boy, you better come eat,” she insisted, reaching under the cart as she said, “Here, let me make you a plate.” I realized that was what she was reaching for once she pulled it out and started plating a little bit of everything before inviting me to take the space next to her.

“First, you put that pussy on my face. And now you makin’ plates for me? You bouta have a nigga spoiled in a minute, Aspen.”

With a playful shrug, she handed me the plate followed by a set of silverware. “I’m so used to people doing stuff for me. It feels good to be able to do a little something for someone else. And besides, I can’t eat all of this food by myself and I definitely can’t eat my own pussy, so...”

“You sure? You lowkey kinda flexible. Might be able to swing it with a little maneuv… aye!”

The grape she’d thrown at the side of my head to cut me off was already rolling across the floor when she threatened, “Shut up and eat before your pussy-eating privileges get revoked already.”

I couldn’t help but laugh knowing good and well if her moans from earlier were any indication, that would never happen. But for the sake of not ruining the vibe with a petty argument, I dug into my plate and replied, “Ain’t gotta tell me twice.”