Chapter 20

Chapter

Twenty

“I swear you are always at this machine. It’s after midnight,” Akeem’s baritone booms and Sunjiya turns around.

He’s home, standing in the doorway of the dining room, staring at her.

She practically drops her cup of ice on the bar counter and rushes to him.

His arms reach out and lovingly welcome her.

“I guess that means you’re glad to see yo’ nigga,” he says amusedly as he embraces her.

“More than you know,” she gushes.

Their lips lock and he kisses her passionately. Her energy matches his, with a hint of need. This was his second job in two months and he’s been gone for eight long days. She’s truly missed him.

It’s been over five weeks since she left Antigua and the life she and Akeem have built together in those weeks has truly been amazing. She’s all moved into the condo. She’s added her own personal touches and style and her office space is fully set up. She’s even become a real travel agent.

No other word can convey her life right now but amazing. She wakes up every morning in loving arms and falls asleep every night in those same arms. Any time they are apart, she feels a void and longing and this time seemed extra. The eight days he’s been away felt like forever.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home when I talked to you this morning?” she chastises playfully.

“Because I wanted to surprise you. The way you ran into my arms lets me know I made the right call.” He softly kisses the side of her neck then pecks her lips. “You feel like washing my back?” he asks before kissing her neck again.

“Always. Let me run you one of my magic baths,” she says and his eyebrows furrow hard. His aversion to soaking in a tub is almost comical but she holds in her laugh.

“Why do you have an oversized, freestanding soaking tub when you don’t like to take baths?” she asks him.

“Because I was manifesting a beautiful woman who loves them.” After patting her ass, he adds, “Let’s go.

I’m tired as hell.” She pecks his lips then heads to their bedroom.

While he securely places his gun in his gun room, she places one of her relaxing, sleepy shower bombs under the showerhead then starts the warm water.

He’s in their large walk-in closet when she walks out of the bathroom so she joins him.

After he removes his Ones, she lifts off his hoodie and tee.

Her soft hands run across his chest then down his arms before they move to his jeans.

His jeans are unbuttoned and off in seconds and so are his boxers.

Her sleep shirt and panties are next. When she’s naked, he pulls her body into his.

“The best part about walking through that front door,” he utters.

“Not my smile?” she teases.

“Well, that too. I’m just a little addicted to your soft ass body on mine. I can’t help it.”

“We’re both addicts then. Does that make us toxic?”

“Nah. That makes us in love. Ain’t shit toxic ’bout us.”

“I like that,” she says, then kisses him. “Let’s get in this shower. I’m starting to get cold.”

She winks then breaks from his embrace. As she rushes toward the shower, he takes his time walking behind her and enjoying the view.

“Damn,” he utters appreciatively.

In the shower, after they are both immersed under the warm water, she starts washing his back. She starts on his right shoulder, moves across his trapezius, then to his left shoulder. She notices a gash and grazes it timidly.

“You’re hurt. What happened here?” she asks, concern dripping from her tone.

Before responding, he feels the spot. He hadn’t realized he was injured. “I must have scraped my shoulder when I was setting my shot,” he says, almost to himself, trying to recall what could have happened. “It doesn’t hurt,” he reveals but his words do nothing to calm her.

“It looks like it does,” she counters with apprehension as she squeezes the soapy hot warm water over the open, slightly red abrasion. “I’m going to clean it good then bandage it when we get out. Tell me if this hurts.” Timidly, she presses her finger around the location and he shakes his head.

“I don’t feel it,” he admits.

“My tough guy,” she sighs. “I’m still going to bandage it.” After carefully cleaning the spot, she moves on to the rest of his back and down his muscular legs, then steps in front of him. “How can you not feel that?” she asks, face tight.

“It can’t be that bad. I didn’t even know I did that shit. And stop looking like that, I’m straight.”

“Okay but I’m bandaging you and you’re taking an Advil.”

The stern look on her pretty ass face keeps him from arguing.

Although not needed at all, as soon as they are out of the shower, he pops an Advil.

Then he sits on the edge of the tub while she stands between his legs and tends to his wound.

His hands rest on her ass and he peppers kisses on her stomach.

When he yawns, she smirks then says, “Akeem, you better stop. You’re tired and need sleep. Don’t try to start shit you can’t finish.”

“Oh, I can finish,” he insists, then yawns again, his body betraying his nasty thoughts.

“Yeah, I can tell.” After placing the last piece of tape over the gauze, she plants a kiss. “Let’s get you to bed,” she says and they walk to the bedroom. The moment they are under the covers, he pulls her body onto his and wraps his arms around her. “Mmm,” she moans.

“That’s what I missed,” he says.

“What?”

“Your little sounds and snores when you sleep.”

“I do not snore,” she snaps playfully.

“Um. You do. You sound like a damn tractor trailer,” he teases in an even tone.

“I know I don’t,” she says, mortified. “You lying, right?”

“Nah, bae. It’s loud as fuck but it helps me sleep,” he lies and she lifts her head to see his face.

When the side of his mouth forms a slight smirk, she hits his chest lightly. “Stop lying,” she says with a titter.

“A’ight,” he says, continuing to tease her. “I know what I hear.”

“Yeah right,” she mutters.

“I do miss your voice though. Tell me about your week.”

“It was good. I got a family reunion to plan and fifty-two people to book.”

“Damn. That’s a big ass family. Congrats, bae. You doing your thing,” he says and she beams.

Her efforts and hard work are finally paying off.

She dabbled in the travel agent stuff before, when she switched with her sister years ago, but it had been a minute.

Getting back into it for real has been a challenge but social media has been a big help.

Melanin Voyages has really picked up and she’s been booking lucrative trips.

This Bailey Family reunion is her biggest to date though.

They are going on a seven-day, excursion-filled trip to Negril in March.

“Thank you. I’m excited.”

“You’re gonna outgrow your work space soon. We gon’ have to upgrade you,” he says.

“I hope so. I’m working on it. ACC has a travel and tourism program. I’ve been thinking about taking a few classes. I figured it can’t hurt. They have an intro course starting in January.”

“Sounds like you’ve been doing more than thinking.”

“Yeah, I have. I looked it up,” she admits.

“Then do that shit. Sign up in the morning,” he encourages and she simpers. His support is unmatched and she truly appreciates it.

“I will,” she says.

“That’s what’s up,” he says, then yawns.

“Go to sleep, baby, and stop trying to entertain me. I can talk about this all night,” she says, and at her words, he reluctantly closes his tired eyes.

For the past three nights, he’d barely closed his eyes.

Finding his last contract took almost five days.

Kantrell Bufford knew about the hit on his life and went deep into hiding.

With strong connections in underground sex tracking, Kantrell was illusive for a minute, but Akeem, with the help of Axton, found him in a little ass town outside of Nuevo Progreso, Mexico.

Akeem studied his limited movement, found the prime location, and caved sleeplessly until he took the shot.

He’s tired as shit, and within minutes, he drifts into deep slumber.

He doesn’t wake up till sometime after eleven when his nose catches the scent of his mom’s favorite sausages. After stretching his large frame across his bed, he treks to the bathroom, relieves his bladder, washes his face, handles his dental hygiene, then slides on a pair of boxers.

As he journeys to the kitchen, the smell of Conecuh sausage makes his stomach grumble. Growing up and to this day, the only sausages his Alabama-native mom cooks are Conecuh. She gets them delivered. What does Sunjiya know about these?

The sight in his kitchen stops his steps and causes his breath to hitch.

Pure perfection is the only way to describe his view.

His once manly kitchen, devoid of anything feminine or soft, has pops of yellow and turquoise that complement the original brown and black.

Her style has beautifully infiltrated this room and the rest of the condo the exact same way she’s commandeered his heart.

She’s cooking his mom’s sausage in their kitchen and the light from the massive kitchen window hits her just right and she’s practically glowing.

“Pure fucking perfection,” he utters but she hears him and glances over her shoulder.

Smiling and eyeing his muscular frame, she says, “Good morning and I gotta agree but I hope you hungry.”

While stepping over to her, he admits, “For the food and you. It’s been too long since I tasted you on my lips.” After wrapping his arms around her waist, he presses his body into her backside then kisses up the side of her neck. “Good morning,” he says. “Is that—”

“Conecuh sausage?” she finishes his thought as she turns the links over on the grill pan. “Yes.”

“How did you get them?” he quizzes, curious as hell.

“Well, I saw how much you and Quise loved the sausage when we were at the beach house, so I looked for them. When I couldn’t find them in any grocery store here, I called your mom.”

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