Amaris #2
“You heard me. Seems like you love what you see, come close and get a whiff of me, ma.”
I dropped my head and smiled, releasing a light laugh.
“I see you’re flattered,” I murmured.
“Very, flattered.” He licked his lips. “If you were ugly then I’d feel offended.” He took a long pull from his blunt.
“Thank you for the compliment, now let’s get down to business.” I smoothly tried to redirect the conversation.
“There is no business between you and I.” He flicked his wrist; all humor left his orbs.
“This is a simple courtesy visit—”
“First line of business,” I cut him off with a roll of my eyes. “You’re not in dress code.” I gestured my hand toward the open suit jacket and bare tatted chest of his. “Second, this is a bar and lounge, not a damn strip club. Here at Spike’s we—”
“Shut the fuck up, Breasturant,” he grated then looked at his guard with amusement.
“You picked up on that line, Brutal?” He asked his guard that stood off to the side.
“You sick as fuck,” Brutal chuckled deeply.
“Who you calling Breasturant?” I frowned.
Silence.
Amusement danced around in his eyes as they landed on my breasts.
Suddenly I felt exposed when I shouldn’t have.
I wasn’t dressed in skimpy clothes, that was not my style.
Today I was dressed down in my comfort clothes.
I had on high waisted, tan loose-fitting trousers, big gold bamboo hoop earrings, with a white collared shirt underneath a velvet tan vest.
My curves were obvious but not spilling out.
I wasn’t the type to have low self-esteem nor feel self-conscious about my weight but this cocky bastard sitting in front of me looked like he was nothing more but a shallow nigga only after superficial type of women.
So, I doubted him trying to flirt with me…
. Or was he? His eyes remained on my breasts.
Before I realized what I was doing, I folded my arms over my chest. That seemed to snap him out of his daze.
“You one of them architectural kind of broads.” His deep voice sounded like one of my favorite audible narrators.
His voice was deep and dominant, chords caressing me effortlessly, and affected me in every sinful way possible.
Pull it the fuck together, Amaris! I blinked my eyes and locked the hell in.
Ignoring the sexual chemistry that I felt for this strange man was vital.
Still, dirty thoughts kept popping up to the forefront of my mind.
Thoughts of me working the fuck out of this nigga.
Making him bow the fuck down since I knew I wasn’t nothing nice to play with.
I didn’t need a nigga to tell me how fire my pussy or sex game was.
I knew I was one of a kind. I might’ve put my sex life on pause, but I dominated and broke niggas down once I got them.
Then there was his thick pink tongue that he kept teasing me with.
He flicked that shit out to wet his full set of cinnamon lips every couple of minutes.
The way he worked it, I could tell he knew how to drill my clit with the right amount of pressure, no teasing shit.
His deep chuckle snatched me right out of my thoughts. Feeling hot and bothered, I flicked my locs behind my back and straightened my posture.
“Architectural?” I tittered. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Royal’s gaze turned into a penetrative one. He sat slouched, legs spread wide like the tool between his thighs was too heavy to close them. His finger tapped slow against the table, eyes still studying me in a way that felt like he was reading chapters of my life I hadn’t even written yet.
“Yeah… architectural,” he repeated, eyes dragging over my face with admiration mixed with a sudden understanding. “You built different. Not just pretty, and not just raw beauty…” He shook his head slowly.
“Nah…” He tugged at his beard. “You structured… intentional as fuck, every part of you got purpose.”
My heart skipped a beat, and I hated that it did. It wasn’t the way he said it… it didn’t feel like a compliment. It felt like he knew something.
“No doubt, you got raw ass beauty,” he continued, voice softer now. “The type of beauty that don’t need makeup or attention, but you have the strong ability to capture any male or female and command without even trying.”
My defense mechanism dropped instantly along with my from my chest. I didn’t even realize I had stopped breathing for a couple of seconds. The room felt small, like it was just him and I locked into a small space with no one witnessing him reading me exclusively.
He’s trying to mind fuck me…
“And then…” He smirked faintly, like he’d just uncovered another layer. “You spoiled too.”
I blinked again, caught off guard.
“Spoiled?” I whispered in disbelief.
He nodded his head slowly then ran his huge hand across the top of his waves.
“Not bratty spoiled. You a daddy’s girl spoiled.
You grew up protected… that nigga taught you to always know you deserve the above and beyond type of treatment.
He taught you to walk away from niggas like him and anything that don’t treat you right.
He drilled loyalty into you, which is why you running several of his spots while probably fixing all of his problems…
I bet daddy didn’t teach you how to protect yourself from him. ” He chuckled dryly.
Royal sat up, fixed his posture, never taking his alluring almond eyes off of me.
“But life…” He exhaled slowly. “Life chipped at all the things daddy taught you… just a little bit because you still see it. You fierce as fuck and need a real nigga to step up and become yo new daddy since biological daddy not protecting you too well from the bad guys like me.” He grinned sinisterly.
My throat tightened because he was right.
Too right, and that terrified me. I stared at him, speechless.
My emotions were rattled; my thoughts scrambled like papers flying in a storm.
I didn’t even know why his words hit so deep or why a total stranger made me feel so exposed and seen in a way that felt almost invasive.
Why did I even care what this man saw?
I looked in his dark brown eyes and saw orbs that were heavy from sleepless nights. His shoulders were broad but relaxed like he was used to carrying the weight nobody else saw. And then…
I saw what one of his tattoos on his chest represented…pain…
I looked deeply into his eyes without blinking and saw the way his pain lingered in a way his eyes didn’t quite settle.
The way his posture looked relaxed but guarded at the same time.
He had a particular look that most Black men carried on a day-to-day basis.
A man who learned how to be calm in chaos, rejection, and pain.
I finally found my voice but decided to slide into the opposite side of the booth across from him before I spoke lowly.
“Well.” I shrugged with a practiced fake smile. “Seems like you know a lot about me,” I said softly, tilting my head.
He didn’t respond, just watched me like he was still peeling back layers of me in his mind.
“I see you too, Royal.”
That caught his attention. His thick bushy brows lifted slightly. I leaned forward, trying my very best to ignore my racing heart.
“You’re handsome… so fucking handsome, I’m talking smooth domineering 90’s kind of fine… but.” I clicked my tongue. “There’s something else.” I raised my brows in amusement.
His eyes narrowed curiously.
Time to knock him off his balanced high horse… I thought, since I had his undivided attention.
“I see pain in you,” I continued, my voice steadier now with confidence in each word I was getting ready to speak. “If I’m correct, your pain don’t just come from one thing… It comes from years of being shaped into someone you probably didn’t choose to be.”