~16~

She’s a savage…

Everything about her was amazing. That was all I could think as she bounced up and down from my lap. She used her muscles to squeeze and lift from my thighs that were between hers. The structure in her shoulders were more defined than I’d seen them, the curvature from her waist to her hips was outlined in the glow of the blazing fire in front of us.

I sat back on the couch and watched Wynter ride me reverse cowgirl style to the strings of an Ameerah cut.

“So you really like her?” Wynter asked earlier when I hit play on the recent album L.I.T. Music put out.

“I told you. She’s dope.”

“It’s a violin. That’s sad, not sexy.”

“It’s string—more than a violin, and you’re sexy. That’s all I need.”

That’s when her eyes lit with a passion I was learning had been a hidden talent of my wife.

“That simple, huhn?” The slant in her eyes from being tipsy appealed to me more than I wanted her to know.

“What’s your favorite position?”

She bit her lip before giggling. “I have more than one.”

“What’s your least favorite?”

She spit air from her mouth. “Easy. Reverse cowgirl. That’s labor…especially on a man with your girth.”

Smiling, I nodded my head, biting the inside of my cheek.

“Oh,” she cried, losing her talented cadence.

Wynter was feeling a lot more than the labor she claimed came with this position, and I knew she would. The dramatic rise of the orchestra in the track and her soft skin smacking against mine was all I heard. The demanding glow from the fireplace across the room was all I could see around Wynter’s torso that bounced up and down on my dick. She was a spritely one, had been at it for a while, adjusting to me.

She likes this…

I could tell when her clenched fingers left my knees and her arms moved in the air. One hand curled over to the opposite shoulder, and the other grabbed her hair sitting on top of her head. She was stunning…and poised with her driving game. She was enjoying herself, riding the hell out of my cock.

And my nose is wide open…

Wynter was right. She was very much aware of her sexuality and she owned it. It wasn’t something she shied away from. She was expressive with it.

The guilt…

It was what I realized earlier while in the gym, after Wynter finished her work out and left for the suite. I knew, as a man of God, I shouldn’t have been involved in this arrangement. I also shouldn’t have been receiving pleasure by enjoying her body. Now, it was turning into a fast addiction and a current obsession. The worst part of it was, I didn’t see it ending anytime soon. Our agreement was for three years.

I’d been delaying the inevitable decision of stopping this…thing. It wasn’t just that her pussy was good, but she had a sharp mind, too. Wynter was a thinker—an independent one. What I hadn’t caught on to yet, was how capable she was at feeling. She’d convinced me she understood the rhythm of blues. She seemed conversant with a rhythm as her tempo on my dick showed right now.

I’d had decent sex, and on occasion, good sex. Wynter was going for the gold in my book. But that wasn’t how I operated. I’m a man of faith, a believer of God’s promises. It wasn’t healthy to thrive in a season of blues. When you join lives with someone in marriage, I was taught you were supposed to fill the earth and multiply. What were we creating with this mind blowing sex?

I was taught in marriage, there should be an even exchange of love, joy, and fulfillment amidst the trials of life. You’re supposed to fight for peace and happiness…for wholeness and forever. What was I giving Wynter in exchange for the pleasure and escapism she’d been giving me—even before I laid a finger on her?

And I hadn’t been giving her the attributes of wife or a marriage, but I’d been enjoying her company. I hadn’t enjoyed the company of a woman without anxiety since I was an innocent kid. Life had been so polluted since then, so this thing with Wynter had been so perplexing.

But right now, I can’t think…

I didn’t have time to because right then she was vibrating on top of me. Her inner thighs clenched the outside of mine. Her shoulders jolted back and forth. She was about to explode. If there was one thing I learned in the past two days, it was the ruthless and impulsive decision to get the apadravya piercing was a premature plan laid for a Wynter Blue…McKinnon.  

My balls lurched and legs opened even more to prepare. I leaped from the back of the couch and grabbed her by the breasts, pulled her into me as I bit down on her soft shoulder. I felt cool bumps rise all around me. I clutched her frame tight, not giving her much room to toss her clenching channel back to me. More than I needed the added pleasure, I needed a nearness to my latest passion. I felt my seeds jet into her hot core. The more I shot, the more pressure I applied to my teeth into her skin.

“Damn, Raaaa—” she cried. “Oh…” Her hand shot to the back of my head, holding me.

When my shooting stopped and I was able to loosen up on her, I pulled her down with me on the couch, falling on our sides.

“Ahhhh!” she shrieked playfully then fell into a fit of giggles.

“You said you were born in the winter. When’s your birthday?” I swear, I had no idea where that question came from.

The thought crossed my mind last night after she told me her full name, but I didn’t plan on asking her after blasting off.

She giggled again, panting in my arms. “January seventeenth.”

I went stiff around her.

“You serious right now?”

The alarm in my pitch must have been funny because Wynter laughed even harder.

Hardly able to breathe, she wheezed, “As serious as I can be after a monstrous orgasm.”

Wait…

“You’re twenty-nine?”

“Couldn’t stay twenty-eight forever, church boy.”

“Wheeeeeeeeeew!” he hooted, pulling his fingers from my grip on a snap. “Kings Nation, baby! Kings Nation!”

His crew in the suite cheered with him. We all did.

“Yaaaaay!” his toddler shouted alongside us, not knowing why we were cheering, but had clearly been indoctrinated by arguably the biggest Connecticut Kings fan there was.

“Yo! Did you see that play, my dude?” I shouted, walking up to Azmir with my body curled over.

Azmir’s head tossed back in a tortured laugh. Behind him, sitting with his daughter, who was a twin to the young CK fan, his wife rolled her eyes as she smiled infectiously at him.

“Butler, man! Butler!” Azmir chanted, one fist in the air.

“Nah! Instead of the Chiefs handing it off, they threw it!” I laughed, drunk-happy.

“Dumb asses!”

“Mr. Jacobs!” Rayna warned him.

Being drunk off excitement, too, Azmir covered his mouth as his eyes blew up. He went over to her seat, reached down and kissed her in a way I couldn’t see because he didn’t want me to as he covered her whole frame from my view. He was soothing her. Nothing could bring us off this high we were on. The kids went back to playing around. They took full advantage of their father’s wealth in buying a suite for his favorite football team’s Super Bowl try.

Or re-try. This was impossibly the Connecticut Kings’ second time at the Super Bowl for the second consecutive year. They’d lost last year and it was nothing short of a blessing—and miracle—they were able to make it back this year. That never happens in football. Was it crazy that I actually prayed for this win? Out of the things I needed to work out with my Savior, I asked Him for this CK W.

As their parents took a time out for affection, I started a victory dance with Azmir’s twins. We went around in a circle with our own CK chant. They were undeniably cute, and had behaved this whole time. As I celebrated with them, I saw the field being emptied by the teams and staff out there doing whatever it was they did after the game. Outside of the suite, people were lining up to leave in the hallway. Azmir Jacobs was a big dawg and got a cabin suite. It was pretty dope in here, but I couldn’t say I’d be willing to cop this over what Jade Bailey, Trent Baily’s wife, had. Hers was more modest. Her husband was the star quarterback of the Kings. That’s where Wynter and I started this public relations run. I could have gotten my own suite here in Minnesota, but it would defeat the purpose of being out amongst my friends with my new wife.

When Wynter and I showed just before kickoff, we headed straight to Jade Bailey’s suite as arranged. She was in there with friends, family, and her and Trent’s children. Trent and I belonged to the same church. And from my understanding, he was just as close to our pastor, Ezra, as I was. A pain ran through my chest each time I thought of my pastor, who was actually my former therapist, and one of my closest friends. I was known to shut down on the world, but Ezra was one I couldn’t take a break from even if I wanted to. Trent, on the other hand, was one of those I had retreated from. It wasn’t because of anything he did. Wasn’t his fault at all. Retreating was something I did.

Lucky for me, I’d had Myisha buy something for Trent and Jade’s new baby in August before I started this fake marriage campaign. It was when I found out about Jade’s pregnancy. I knew it was Trent’s first baby and understanding the drama he’d been through over the past five years or so, I was happy for this blessing of his. Trent was good people. I took the gift over myself when he’d taken a few days off to care for Jade in her last days of pregnancy. And because of that rare show of support I made, my request to visit Jade’s suite for the game with my new bride was met with nothing but generosity and excitement.

Jade was happy to see me and was crazy welcoming to Wynter. In fact, she was so hospitable, after coming over to Azmir’s suite and meeting his family, Wynter opted to go back to chill with Jade and the new baby. Azmir somewhat summoned me, so I stayed to finish the game with him.

“Yo.” I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Azmir. “I know you gotta roll. Let me rap to you for a minute.”

His daughter, Kennedy, went for his legs, wrapped her little arm around one while she swung over to the other with ease. She teased her brother while carrying on with our made-up chant. Lil Dasu pushed me at the thigh to chase her. Before long, they were off, running around the suite as they had been practically the whole time I’d been in here.

After we went off to the bar, Azmir ordered another Mauve.

“How ‘bout you?” Azmir offered.

I nodded, realizing the game may have been over, but I wasn’t driving tonight. The moment the bartender turned to grab tumblers, Divine got started.

“Everything good with you?”

“I’ve seen worse days.” I scratched under my lip, hated the answer more than I did the question.

“Your wife adjusting to the life of Ragee?”

I understood the question.

“Nah.” I nodded toward the waiter when our glasses were placed in front of us. “I don’t see her moving any faster than Rayna did.”

“Yeah, but my shortie didn’t marry a celebrity.”

“She married money, though. And big money at that.”

He scoffed at my dry sarcasm. I wasn’t easy with conversation about Wynter. So much had changed over the past few days with us. Things I couldn’t explain, neither did I understand. The bottom line was, it wasn’t easy speaking freely about something that wasn’t real.

Azmir’s gaze went over his shoulder at Rayna, who was playing ring around the rosy with their tots. “Yeah, but she didn’t marry a man with a false reputation.” His eyes were on me again. “It ain’t my business to speak on how quick the wedding was—or the announcement of her existence. I just wanna make sure you’re good and ain’t ahead of yourself.”

I took a swig of my drink. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Azmir Divine Jacobs was no fool. He was far more conversant with the industry than I was and as he said, he was no celebrity. But talking about my arrangement with Wynter was off the table.

“It means I know who you fucking with. I know his breed. We’re from the same era. Same hood.”

“You ‘bout to hit me with that Brooklyn shit?” I chuckled, going for my drink again.

Azmir’s eyes swept behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Wynter coming in. Her eyes lit up at Rayna and the kids playing. She dropped her bag and coat and went straight to them. Wynter lowered on her haunches in heels and black fishnet stockings with the Ase Garb logo running through them under a fitted skirt. Her thighs were squeezed together, her face open with wonder, and eyes sparkling at the little people. She seemed to be good with kids. She’d been really friendly to everybody today...like a pro.

“Nah,” Azmir’s voice brought my attention back. “Mike Brown been wildin’ lately. Been in some shit with True Blue I don’t care to help him out of because I don’t wanna get involved again.”

I knew Azmir had called a truce on Mike and True’s beef the last time when things got thick, but this sounded serious.

“What did he do?”

“It’s now over money and ego. Mike think he’s dealing with a level headed cat his age. True skipped the same number of years in development that he’s done in the pen. They recruit those kids with no conscience, probably worse than the crackhead babies’ generation. These young gunners are ruthless. Mike B keeps poking at them, trying to steal artists, fucking baby’s mothers, and now taking on debt.”

“What debt?”

I was confused. The first time I’d heard of this was when Josh put the bug in my ear. Then I saw the blogs and TMZ running off with it. Those sources were loose. A.D. Jacobs’ word was solid.

“True Blue’s saying Mike owes him money on the artist he tried to snatch.”

“But I heard he didn’t. True blocked it.”

Azmir nodded while swallowing back his drink. “Yeah. Then he shelved the project, basically ripping up their contract. Now he’s saying Mike owes him the money from the artist’s potential earnings.”

“Whoa…” I breathed.

I didn’t involve myself in Mike’s business anymore. I’d never been his only artist to manage. I’d simply been the only successful artist he’d managed. We had a tight relationship until a couple of years ago, but I never asked him about business outside of mine.

“My point in bringing all this up is to make sure he ain’t pushing you into no bullshit, no matter the form.” With his forehead, he pointed toward Wynter as she laughed with Rayna.

Again, Azmir was no fool. He probably knew the marriage wasn’t real. But I wouldn’t confirm or deny it.

“I’m goo—” I tried.

“Anyway,” he breathed, standing from the barstool. “I need to go congratulate my team.” He pulled his pants up as he spoke. “They are, after all, the number one NFL team. No need to keep them waiting.”

I chuckled at his seriousness. “You know you ain’t a player, manager, or owner. Right?”

“Nah.” He smiled real smug like. “I’m bigger than all those, my G. I’m the fuckin’ man.”

“Aye!” Rayna yelled over to him.

Azmir and I fell out laughing. He reached over for some dap.

“I’m doing better with it.” He laughed. “I swear I am.”

“Yeah,” I snorted. “You see how hard this Christ walk is now, bruh.”

It had been more challenging for me than it had in years, thanks to these new circumstances.

“Yo, Winny!” I called out, teasing her. She gazed over to me, standing. I pulled out my phone to text the car. “We’ve overstayed our welcome. Let’s bounce.”

“Oh, stop it, Raj!” Rayna scolded me with a smile. “This was fun. We have to do it again.”

That was the same thing Jade said.

“I’ll make it happen,” I promised before swallowing back the last of my brandy.

It had been a long day of introductions, dodging indirect questions of the happenings of my world, and the obligatory pictures. Jade’s family and a few of Azmir’s crew asked for them as soon as I hit the door. Wynter didn’t have to ask Jade for a picture together. Jade was on it already. But it was good. And genuine. If I wasn’t so wound up with keeping up with a fictitious storyline, I’d admit to actually enjoying myself around good people.

When we arrived back at the hotel, I didn’t expect to see Jashon and Tina in our suite, busy in the bedroom we used for our clothes and to dress. I paced curiously toward the room. Jashon noticed me first and smiled brightly and with familiarity.

“Everything all right?” I asked with my own smile in tow.

“Yeah. Just getting you packed up and consolidating your luggage.” He winked. “Organizing it, too.”

“Oh, okay,” I uttered, unsure.

I knew we were due to leave first thing in the morning. What I didn’t know was I needed help packing. I backed out of the room, en route to the living room to dump my heavy coat. I was so distracted by their presence, I’d forgotten to do that when we came in. It was close to midnight and I was tired and hungry. After not getting much sleep last night, I was looking forward to a few hours of rest—on a mattress—before our early flight in the morning.

When I made it to the living room, I saw Raj standing near the window, speaking low on the phone. His coat was still on. I felt my face tighten and brows meet. That was strange.

As though he sensed me and my confusion, he slowly turned to me and looked me up and down.

“Hold on, Qua,” he requested of the caller before lowering the phone to speak to me. “We pull out in ten minutes. Grab all your things.”

“Apparently, my things are being organized for me. You’re packed, too?”

“I should be. Jashon should have all that handled.” His brows furrowed this time. “You good?”

“Yeah. I just thought we were leaving in the morning.”

“Change of plans.” His regard fell to the floor and those curly lashes batted. “We’ll be off the grid for a few days, so you may wanna avoid Myisha and ya boss.”

“My boss?”

“Mike Brown.”

I wanted to scream he was no boss of mine, but I could tell Ragee was expressing humor.

“Why?”

“Because you can’t stay twenty-nine forever and I ain’t tryna miss this one, too.” He winked before going back to his call.

“Mr. McKinnon,” the captain quietly called over the cabin speaker. “We’re due to land in three minutes.”

At that, I sat up and looked at Wynter, asleep in my arms. Her faded red lips slacked and her face angelic as she slept. Slowly, I reached behind her to feel for her seatbelt only to learn she never took it off after we ascended. Then I eased mine on as best as I could with one hand; my left arm was preoccupied by sleeping beauty. I glanced out the window to the right of me and caught the start of the Caribbean sunrise. It was just before six in the morning. Wynter fell out an hour into the flight when I wouldn’t tell her our destination. She was a little salty, but I didn’t let that break me.

“Hey…” I whispered, flexing my arm around her back and waist to wake her. “Wynter.”

Her eyes fluttered open to pink saucers. She was tired.

“We’re about to land,” I whispered. “Plus, I want you to see the sunrise. It’s gorgeous.”

Slowly, her sleepy eyes floated to the window next to me. I followed her line of sight and until we landed, she snuggled more into me as our attention was out there. The cresting sun seemed just outside of our window, it was that prominent at this latitude.

The landing was smooth and fast. A car was waiting for us at the airport. I helped Wynter off the plane while our things were being transferred to another vehicle that would soon follow us to the resort.

“Welcome to Saint Justin, Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon,” a thick accent greeted us, holding the door open to a limo.

Wynter’s head shot up to me with wild eyes and she sucked in a breath as she tried controlling her smile. I didn’t speak, didn’t want to or know how. I had no idea what I was doing. I only knew what was on my heart to do for her.

I sent Jashon and Tina back to Jersey with laced pockets for their zipped lips while my security came with us. They would drive in behind us with our luggage. On the ride to the resort, Wynter didn’t speak much. It was late and early for us. I didn’t sleep a bit on the flight, and while she did, I was sure it wasn’t restful.

The concierge awaited us at the resort with a smile too big for the hour and a bouquet of exotic flowers for Wynter. We were escorted to our bungalow right away and shown the room we’d share for the next few days.

As we glanced around the small contemporary area, I asked, “You good?”

Wynter turned to me and blinked while shaking her head. “Wow…” she laughed hoarsely. “That’s all I can say. This is…amazing.”

Her eyes roamed around the bedroom area where a king sized bed sat on a platform, the small dining area we likely wouldn’t use, and the sitting room where there was a big, mounted television.

“We won’t be in here much. That’s why the place is so small.” I nodded toward the small eating area with a view of the beach in the back of the bungalow. “It’s small because we’ll eat over the water—”

“Ah…” the concierge interjected behind me “…unless it rains. At which time we can provide a covering for comfortable dining, or you can eat in here. We’d set up the most romantic tabletop.” He offered a bow. “I know the hour is odd, but is there anything I can get for you to help get you settled in?”

My eyes shot over to Wynter, who stood still in high heels and wintery clothes.

“Ummmm…” She let out a deep breath as she cupped her forehead. “I’m fine. I’m a little hungry, but just need to wash off yesterday, including this makeup.”

That reminded me we didn’t have much of a dinner last night. In the short timing of this trip, I didn’t charter food for the flight.

“A small tray of assorted fruits and vegetables and someone to run a hot bath, please,” I asked the waiting concierge.

“Right away, sir.” He turned and spoke to the woman waiting at the door, who came in right away and headed to the bathroom. Then he left out.

“How…” Wynter tried, hand still gripping her forehead. “When?”

I started tugging at my shirt to pull it off. “You said you wanted a change of weather. That’s when it popped in my head, but I didn’t know how I could pull it off and stay low with it. Then when you told me your birthday passed, I thought, Forget that, and made a few calls to make it happen.” My t-shirt was next then I pulled at my belt.

Wynter peeked over her shoulder at the bathroom where the water was running, and turned back with a sneaky grin, going for her heeled boots.

“I can’t believe you did all this. Shit, it doesn’t feel real. Between being fatigued and in paradise, I feel like I’m stuck in a dream!”

I chuckled, pulling off my socks. “No dream. Just a break from our reality.”

“Next time you need a break, remember how cool of a travel partner I am. Please!” She giggled while pulling down her stockings.

She was beautiful. Her thick thighs were more defined now, toned. Her waistline was small, narrowing nicely between her tits and hips. Wynter was thick from the day I met her, but nothing extreme. Her explanation of quick weight gain explained the stretchmarks. And even they were sexy. Everything about her appealed to me, and I knew it was because the attraction began from inside of her rather than the outside. No. Physically, there was nothing wrong with her. Wynter was beautiful with mild features and a feminine shape, but that wasn’t our connection point. I didn’t have it all figured out yet, but I knew there was one and I wanted to ease into it.

“Senor, Senora,” a call from the other side of the bungalow had Wynter leaping into the air, hiding behind me. “Your bath is ready. I’m going to receive your food now.”

I snickered quietly at Wynter’s jumpiness.

“Gracias!” she shouted behind me.

I wanted to moan, I felt so good. The fragrant water was set to a spicy temperature, and felt like silk rubbing against my tight joints. Gradually, they were relaxing and loosening in their float. My belly was contented after being fed fresh exotic fruits and vegetables by his hand. Soft petals of an exotic purple hued flower, mostly grown in Saint Justin—per the sweet woman who ran the bath—floated around our intermingled bodies as we faced a floor to ceiling window. The sun was up, orangey in color at his hour as we faced the perfect view of it from the bathroom.

This was unreal. Un-fucking-real! I was in the Caribbean—next door to Puerto Rico, to be exact—with Ragee, of all people! And he’d been sweet, attentive, and subdued with a disposition I had yet to figure out. Then again, Ragee McKinnon wasn’t a man who could be learned. He was one that could only be survived and enjoyed—when he was ready.  

I eased back more into his hard frame, enjoying his virile nearness. My head rolled back on his chest to peer up at him. He opened one lid as he relaxed back on the padded lip. I couldn’t help my giggle. I was delirious with exhaustion. I needed real sleep after a night of touching, reverse cowgirling, and a day of meeting celebrities and the highfalutin’ people of Raj’s world. They were all nice and welcoming, but strangely eager with their reception of him. They treated him like Michael Jackson, as though his public appearance was rare and appreciated. It was strange, but nice.

“How long are we here?”

“Two…three days, depending on how you like it,” his thick coarse voice produced hoarsely.

“I love it enough already to stay the max time.”

He smiled, and for a while, didn’t speak.

“Then let’s stay as long as we can without the outside world. Just us.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?” The water swished as I turned to lay my chest against his bubbled abs.

Raj’s heavy eyes still sparkled as he peered down on me. “It means, out here we’re not Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon. We’re Ragee and Wynter. We get to know each other for who we were before the fakery.”

“How do we do that?”

“No social media. We ditch Mike and Myisha, who I told I brought you with me to a last minute recording in L.A. with Young Lord, even though I was upset at the inconvenience of having you travel with me.”

“Geesh…” I grated, rolling my eyes.

“And I told them you dropped your phone in the tub and I’ll have Danny G take you to get a new one while we’re out there. That should give us a few days of down time.”

“Won’t they call Lord?”

He stretched out beneath me. “Nah. I already gave him the heads up. Plus, they don’t know him like that to call anyway. And they’re used to me going off the grid.”

I chuckled, easily believing that.

Then his wet hand grabbed me at the chin. Those auburn, beady eyes imploring me. “I mean it, Wynter. No social media or outside contact until we leave. I don’t even want people to know we’re here.”

“Why?” My face constricted with confusion, anger.

“Because this is who I am. I ain’t that millennial, followers-chaser. I grew up in an era where privacy was expected and honored, unless you wild out. I respect the time when growing and getting to know people didn’t happen in a place out in cyberspace. A time before reality TV existed. I understand the business I’m in and do what I have to, to stay in the game, but the real Ragee was born just before the millennial period. My life was FaceTime before Apple trademarked it. I need a break from all that.” He stroked my chin with his dripping index. “And I think you could use one, too.”

I climbed up his hard body and answered with a sweet kiss. I didn’t know the Ragee he spoke of, but was willing to get to know him over the next few days.

We soaked until the water cooled around our exhausted bodies. Raj lifted from the water first to dry off. Then he held a towel out for me to join him. We soon climbed in the bed bare, and fell into each other’s arms. I was out almost immediately.

Do angels sleep in heaven?

‘Cause I know one who does here on earth.

Her countenance so perfect and surreal…

She gives me something I can feel.

She doesn’t magnify my flaws…

Just lifts off with me to Mars.

Makes me wonder if she wants to escape me…

I just want her to save me.

God, she was gorgeous, even when she slept.

I sat up on the pillows watching her as lyrics, complete with melodies flooded my mind. I fell asleep hours ago afraid I’d be letting go of this dream it felt like I was in. When I woke up, my heart was heavy with worry. I didn’t understand why, but knew who. I snatched my sneakers and went out for a run against the beating sun. I prayed while at it. On my way back to our bungalow, I decided to not entertain the fear bubbling inside. No, I wasn’t used to feeling excited about a woman, but I wouldn’t run from what felt…good either.

I tried not to snicker when I heard her stomach rumble as she turned onto her back. But the rush of air from my nose must have brushed against her face. Wynter’s nose waggled then her eyes fluttered open.

“The hell, Raj,” she moaned on a stretch. “Stalkerish much?”

I chuckled. “No. Just impatient.”

“About what?” She glanced around. “What time is it?”

“Exactly. Impatient about how long you could sleep with that stomach growling like that. The whole island been disturbed.”

Wynter froze then rolled her eyes while fighting a smile. I grabbed her into my arms and snuggled my face into her neck.

“Time to get up. I wanna show you the island.” She smelled peachy.

“Mmmm…” She moaned again. Her fingertips running through my hair made my dick inflate in a millisecond. “What time is it?”

“It’s after one in the afternoon.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was zapped…still am. Brushing my teeth and a cup of java should cure that.”

“And I ordered food for you. It’s behind me,” I mumbled into her warm neck.

She pushed against me so she could get up. Funny how familiar we’d become with each other’s bodies in just days. I watched her leave the bed. The back of her silk slip was folded above her jiggling cheeks until she pulled it down. I grabbed my swelling cock and stroked it before telling myself to stop. We were in Saint Justin, an island a few miles south of Vieques Island, which was a smaller Caribbean island off Puerto Rico’s eastern coast. It was hailed one of the most romantic islands in the Caribbean, so I was sure I’d have more of Wynter. It seemed the more I had, the more the intensity of need of her grew.

I waited in the bed, listening to her every move in the bathroom like the stalker she teased about. When she came out and saw me in the same position, waiting for her, Wynter went straight for the food tray on the other side of me. After lifting the carafe, she grabbed a fork and plucked from the egg white vegetable omelet. Then, before swallowing that, she dropped the fork and picked up a raw carrot stick, swiped it in hummus and devoured it.

I cracked up on the bed. Wynter’s tight eyes flashed upon me and rolled nastily. I didn’t care. It was fun watching her eat like a savage, especially when the omelet was probably a little cold by now.

“You ate?” she garbled with a full mouth.

“I had a lil something earlier.” She checked the temperature of the thermal coffee server. “Oh,” I remembered. “Your phone kept blowing up. I turned off the ringer.”

“Mm-hmm,” was all she responded, with no immediate move to check it.

That bothered me. My eyes fell and I combed my hair with the tips of my fingers. “I saw some of your texts.”

Wynter’s eyes skirted over to me, brows peaked. “Yeah?”

Again, she didn’t exactly react.

“I didn’t go into it. But when the chirps kept coming through, I picked it up. Your friends sound like they ain’t seen you since last year.”

“They haven’t,” she answered while chewing, left hand still holding up the plate cover.

And that’s exactly what I was hoping not to hear.

“How could you go so long without hitting up your friends and family?”

“Family?” Her face twisted.

“Your sister—I think. She said she hadn’t heard from you since right after New Year’s.”

Wynter chuckled, coldly. “She saw me right after the new year. That was as much as she’d get anyways. My girls, on the other hand…” She rolled her eyes in the air. “It’s been hard to fit them into this.” Her eyes fell and I caught her drift.

“But isn’t their involvement important to validate ‘this’?”

“The R&B thug uses words exceeding four letters!” Her brows lifted, impressed.

I snorted. Wynter was on her sarcasm tip. I wasn’t in the mood. Knowing she’d been in this all by herself didn’t sit well with me. All this time, I thought she was a professional gold-digger and if she was, she acted without the support of her people. There was an email along with the alerts. I didn’t go into it, but saw it was from a correctional facility and figured it was her uncle.

My phone chirped from the dresser across the room. Wynter plopped a cherry tomato in her mouth before going for it.

“Oh,” she groaned while chewing. “It’s your bestie.”

When she handed me the phone, I caught on.

“Yeah?” I tapped the speaker button and tossed the phone on the bed, wanting to keep watching this beauty devour food.

“Well, hello, sir. What’re you and the missus up to?”

Wynter frowned. I ignored it, was used to it when it came to him.

“She’s eating and I’m enjoying the show.”

“Oh,” he sang. “Well, lucky for me, I’m on my way. We can put on a show together or I’d be content just watching.”

“That ain’t necessary, man.”

“I’m just an hour out,” LeRoy pushed. “Besides, it’ll be fun to spend a few hours with Ms. Wynter.”

“Why?” she blurted into the phone.

“Because I’m your friend now, too. I told you that, belle.”

I could tell Wynter hadn’t adjusted to LeRoy’s personality. It was hard to; he made sure of it. But I understood, he was being protective. Lee hated the arrangement setup just as much as I did. I didn’t consult him on it, so he found out at the last minute. He’d likely been taking it out on Wynter all this time. I’d been too angry and preoccupied with other matters to care. Now was different. Wynter was no longer an enemy. She was…not to be antagonized. LeRoy being the untrusting cat he’d always been, needed to see it for himself. I was good with that.

“Fine, but if you fuck with her, she’ll bite back,” I warned.

“She’s no Ragee McKinnon in the ring, sir. I think I could take her on. Besides, I don’t need a fight, just friendly faces and a few mojitos.”

My face screwed. “You good?”

“I will be…in less than an hour. Right, Mrs. McKinnon?”

Wynter rolled her eyes. Not being able to process how damn cute she was, I shot up from the bed, grabbed in the air, and slammed her on the mattress.

“Raj!” she screamed, in a fit of giggles.

I managed between her firm thighs and rubbed my growing dick against her. Unable to breathe from laughing, she pushed against me and wrapped her legs around my waist at the same time.

“What are you doing to that girl?” I could hear LeRoy’s muffled voice.

“‘Bout to be something you ‘on’t know much about, kid!” I growled, sucking a piece of her side boob in my mouth and biting.

“Ragee!” she wailed, kicking her legs around me.

“Ooooh!” LeRoy moaned. “Can I FaceTime and watch?”

“Hell no!” she yelled, searching for the phone and tapping to disconnect the call.