Amiyah #2
Lena leaned closer, whispering in my ear as she smiled wide like she lived for this kind of attention. “Well damn, Amiyah. Looks like you just became the main event.”
The closer we got, the louder my pulse got in my ears. My chain belt jingled with every step, my thighs brushing, and I hated the way I was hyper-aware of how my body moved under their eyes, or maybe I loved it, I couldn’t be sure just yet, but I was leaning more towards loving it.
“Lena!” Calil’s voice boomed over the music.
He jogged down from the deck in a crisp white tee, gold rope bouncing against his chest. He scooped her up like she was the only woman in the yard, spinning her once before setting her down.
“Knew you’d pull up—but you didn’t tell me you and your plus one was coming through to be showstoppers tonight, it’s good to see you again, Amiyah,” He spoke, pulling her in for a hug. ”
Lena laughed, tossing her hair back. “She was invited before I was, so I think I’m the plus-one, but don’t be mad we know how to make an entrance.”
“That y’all do,” Calil grinned before slinging an arm around her shoulders and turning to the group on the deck. “Everybody, let me make it official. Lena’s gorgeous ass finally made it before all the food was gone, and she brought her sexy ass best friend, Amiyah.”
He gestured at me, and suddenly every face in the Carter/Black circle was on me.
“Amiyah and James work together; she’s his PM on the big project with the city,” Calil added, his tone easy, like he was stating the weather.
I smiled politely, trying not to show how much my stomach twisted at James' name being dropped like that.
Calil pointed around the circle as he made introductions. “This is Caleb, and his wife, Yanna.” Caleb lifted his beer in greeting, and Yanna gave me a warm smile, her long braids catching the light.
“Over there, that’s Dana and her husband, Ahmir.” Dana raised her cup, grinning, while Ahmir gave me a friendly nod, his arm draped easily around her waist.
“And of course you know Ajaih, Maverick, and Knox.”
“Don’t look so wound up, relax, Miyah,” Ajaih said with a smirk when my eyebrows lifted a little. Maverick squeezed her hand, Knox just leaned back, eyes filled with mischief, like he lived for the reaction.
James stood up, bringing his beer with him, sipping it slow, watching me like I was the only one in the yard, as he pulled me into a hug, his hands all over me.
“Amiyah,” he said, his voice low, gravelly. The way he said my name felt like a toast.
“James,” I managed, my voice a little softer than I intended.
Calla made her way to me, her glass cradled in her hand. Her eyes swept over me like a slow caress. “You wore that on purpose, didn’t you?”
I blinked, caught. “Excuse me?”
She sipped, smirking. “That outfit. You knew exactly what it would do, knew it would get you dragged to an empty bedroom and ate,” she whispered, her hand on my throat.
Caleb and Yanna looked on, peeping exactly what was happening with sheepish grins on their faces.
Yanna whistled low. “Mmm, she’s not wrong, sis. You fine as hell.”
“Period,” Dana chimed in, raising her cup. “Body is bodying.”
I laughed nervously, cheeks blazing. “Thank you.”
Ajaih tilted her head, her voice calm but amused. “Don’t let them rattle you, Amiyah. We just not used to seeing James or Calla in anyone’s face like this. You must be that girl.”
“Fasho, they look like they can’t wait to get their hands on you, gorgeous,” Maverick cut in, eyes gleaming. “Her gorgeous ass is looking like their temptation and salvation.”
That sent the whole group into hollers and claps, the energy bubbling up like the music.
Knox leaned forward, eyes sliding over me quick before settling back with a smirk. “Good to see you again, beautiful, welcome to the family.”
My words caught in my throat at the insinuation, and warmth spread throughout my body.
Knox knew he’d rendered me speechless, causing the laughter to carry, but under it I felt the burn of James and Calla’s focus—hot, unyielding, like they were waiting for me to slip, to fall right into the space they’d already carved out.
Lena, of course, thrived in it. She curled herself into Calil’s side, winking at me. “See, I told you. Freaknik theme, baby. It’s about being seen.”
James' mouth twitched like he wanted to smirk but didn’t dare, with his eyes still locked on me. “Trust me,” he said, voice rough, “She’s seen.”
Calla’s smile widened, slow and deliberate, as she set her glass down and leaned in just enough for only me to catch it.
“You’re ours now,” she murmured, her voice like silk in my ears yet still demanding. “You just don’t know it yet.”
The party was at its peak when the DJ dropped Throw That D. The bass rattled through the ground, and people lost their minds, grinding against each other like the backyard had turned into Freaknik ’95.
“Miya!” Lena hollered over the music, tugging my wrist. “Stop standing there looking cute, show out!”
I laughed, shaking my head, nerves buzzing under my skin. “Here? Now?”
“Yes, here, now.” She grinned wickedly. “And don’t forget, I trained you for this moment,” she said seriously while I giggled. The perks of being best friends with a classically trained ballerina and a pole professional is that you learned how to move your body.
Her words, mixed with the liquor and the edible still swimming in my system, loosened the last of my fear.
My eyes cut across the yard, and I caught James watching me, beer frozen in his hand, his stare burning through the crowd.
Beside him, Calla sat regal and unbothered, sipping her drink like she was above it all.
But when her gaze flicked up to me, the corner of her mouth curved, daring me.
Something snapped inside me. Screw it.
I stepped into the circle forming on the deck, the crowd clapping me on like I was about to perform. My hips rolled slow at first, my chain belt jingling with every sway, teasing them.
And then I cut through the crowd, walking straight to Calla.
She raised her brow, still sipping, but she didn’t move. She wanted to see if I’d go through with it.
I turned around, bent low, and eased myself onto her lap, grinding my ass against her thighs in rhythm with the bass. The crowd went wild, phones popping up, hands slapping tables, hyping me up.
Calla’s hand slid to my waist, nails grazing my skin, holding me steady as I rode her lap. Her breath was hot against my ear, her voice low enough only I could hear. “Careful, sweetheart. You don’t know the line you’re crossing.”
I tilted my head back against her shoulder, my ass grinding harder, deliberately dragging across her lap. “I know exactly what line I’m crossing,” I whispered, boldness spilling out of me like heat. “I know you want me to cross it too.”
Her nails dug in.
I rolled my hips slower, dirtier, my thighs spread wide as I rocked against her, letting the crowd scream.
“You feel that?” I breathed in her ear, my voice husky.
“That’s me dripping for you, and if there wasn’t a crowd, I’d let you slide those pretty fingers under these shorts and feel just how wet you’ve already got me. ”
Her sharp inhale told me I hit the mark.
Her hand wrapped around my throat, “You wouldn’t let me do anything,” she huffed out, “You belong to me, and if you keep fucking playing, I will bend you over in front of everyone and make you fucking come while you scream my name, do you understand me, Princess?”
My body froze at the sound of her calling me Princess. The mysterious woman who lived in my dreams had called me “Princess,” but it couldn't be her, could it? My pussy thumped as an orgasm threatened to tear through me from the way she commanded me.
“Do you fucking hear me?” She reiterated, applying more pressure as my body threatened to explode.
Something about the way she was speaking to me reminded me of a Dominatrix. I’d gone with Lena to Provocateur a time or two and remembered a Dom they called The Black Dahlia bringing subs to their knees.
I bent forward, palms on her knees, arching my back so my ass pressed harder into her lap.
My chain belt jingled with each grind, as I would my hips filthier, “Yessss, Mistress,” I finally ragged out.
I saw her eyes flash, as if something in her activated when I called her Mistress. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” she whispered, her voice shaking for the first time.
I chuckled low, hips circling slow, nasty, deliberate.
The crowd roared, oblivious to the filth spilling between us, cheering as I dipped lower, slid back up, then ground against her like I was fucking her in front of everyone.
Over her shoulder, I caught James' face—jaw tight, eyes burning, chest heaving like he was seconds away from giving into the pleasure coursing through him.
The song ended, but I stayed perched in her lap, catching my breath, my body humming. The noise of the cookout faded under the pulse in my veins, under the look in James' eyes, under Calla’s hand still gripping my waist like she never wanted me to move.
When I finally stood, adjusting my top, Lena was near tears from laughing, clapping like a proud stage mom. “That’s my best friend! Nasty as hell—YESSS!”
I covered my face, giggling, but Calla’s smirk and James' stare told me the truth.
That wasn’t just a dance. That was a challenge.
And none of us were backing down.
The crowd slowly broke apart after the song, people rushing back to the slip-and-slide, the food table, the makeshift dance floor in the yard. But I stayed right there in the circle, heat still buzzing through my body, Calla’s touch still stamped on my skin.
She didn’t move either.
She adjusted her glass, smoothed her skirt like nothing had happened, then leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. But her eyes? They stayed locked on me, sharp and dangerous.
“You enjoyed that,” she murmured, just low enough that the words cut under the noise. “Grinding on me in front of everyone.”
My throat went dry. “Maybe.”
Her lips curved. “Don’t play coy. You practically begged me to touch you. The way you rolled your hips…” Her gaze swept me up and down, deliberate. “Bold little thing.”
I felt my cheeks heat, but I didn’t look away. “You didn’t seem to mind.”
She chuckled, slow and sultry, tilting her glass toward me. “Oh, I didn’t. I never mind being worshiped.”
James shifted behind her, still silent, still smoldering. His jaw ticked, his stare burning a hole through me. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to drag me away or fuck me right there.
Yanna clapped her hands, laughing. “Whew! Miya done turned this cookout into Magic City.”
“You know we have a pole in the basement if you three need some privacy to continue the show,” Caleb’s fine ass smirked.
Dana shook her head, grinning. “Nah, she turned it into Provocateur. Y’all seen Calla’s face? She ain’t been that amused in a minute.”
The group burst into laughter, and I nearly choked on my drink. Calla just smiled, as if she held a secret none of them knew.
“Don’t embarrass her,” Ajaih teased. “She’s clearly comfortable.”
My eyes flicked to Calla. Her nails tapped the rim of her glass, slow, steady, each sound a reminder. She leaned forward just enough for her words to reach me and James, no one else.
“Imagine if that was my strap instead of my lap,” she whispered, voice cutting through the chatter. “Would you still grind on me in front of everyone? Would you still talk nasty as fuck in my ear?”
My body clenched, a sharp jolt of heat surging through me.
I forced a shaky laugh, lifting my cup to my lips. “You so fuckin’ nasty,” I breathed out, clit pulsating at the thought of me riding her.
Her smile widened, wicked and knowing. “No, sweetheart. I’m inevitable.”
James' hand tightened around his bottle, his silence louder than the music blasting in the yard.
And Lena? She was across the circle, sipping her drink with the smuggest grin on her face, mouthing, “That’s my best friend.”