Chapter 10 #2
Cyren held his gaze for a second, something unspoken passing between them before she looked down at her food again.
Heavy stared, trying to figure out where this girl had come from.
It wasn’t just what she was saying, but how she was saying it—spitting advice and encouragement, not trying to impress him.
Cyren was just being herself, pouring into him so freely without him having to go into detail about everything, and Heavy liked that more than he expected.
More than he probably should have, considering they were supposed to be taking things slow.
Wasn’t shit slow about a Black woman pouring into a man, making him feel like he could do and be anything in this world.
“You finished?” he asked after a moment, nodding toward her plate.
Cyren glanced down, realizing she’d slowed up without noticing. “Almost.”
“Take your time,” he said, pushing off the counter. “You good here.”
“I know,” she replied, softly. And she meant it.
When she finished her food, Heavy dumped the plate in the trash and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. Twisting the cap loose, he handed it to her like it was second nature for him to open bottles for her.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking it, her fingers brushing his for half a second longer than necessary.
They left the kitchen, and he grabbed her bag before heading toward the stairs.
Cyren followed behind him, with her heart beating at a different pace now.
Heavy led them down a hallway and pushed his bedroom door open.
Cyren stepped inside, taking it all in the same way she had downstairs.
The smell was the same, but it wasn’t what she expected.
“I don’t know why I thought you’d have some type of bachelor pad,” she announced, finally sliding her shoes off.
She placed them by the door and looked around.
His room was clean and put together in the same fashion as the parts of the house she did see.
A large bed sat centered against the wall, dressed in crisp black linen that still looked soft and comfortable.
He didn’t have a million pillows like she normally would, but there were enough.
A well-organized dresser with cologne and a tray holding his wallet and watches sat off to the side. His TV was mounted across from the bed, taking up the majority of the wall, and a soft light from a lamp in the corner gave the room the same calm feel as downstairs.
“I don’t know why, either. I ain’t entertaining nobody in my crib,” he acknowledged, removing money and a set of keys from his pocket.
Cyren slowly turned, her brow lifting like she didn’t fully believe him. “Why not? You’re single.”
Heavy casually shrugged. “Yeah, I am. That don’t mean I got a flock of women running in and out of my house.”
She hummed, walking the edge of his bed, brushing her fingers lightly across the comforter. “So, I’m the only woman you have coming through here?”
Heavy glanced her way. “You can be.”
His answer was so brutally honest, Cyren couldn’t help but giggle. “I guess, sir.”
“Nah. You guess what? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Cyren wasn’t fully convinced that he didn’t have a gang of women blowing his line down.
Heavy was far too fine, too paid, and had the type of dick to make a woman lose her morals.
It sounded good, though. Her lips curved, slightly, smirking at the look on his face.
He seriously wanted to know what she meant.
“I’m just not buying into you claiming for me to be the only woman you have visiting you, that’s all,” Cyren said, shrugging.
“Aye. Believe what you want, sweetheart. Lying to you doesn’t benefit me in any way.”
Cyren smiled. She knew him lying right now wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean he never would. Heavy was a man. They lied. Maybe not intentionally, but for some reason, they just did. As if the truth wasn’t good enough.
A man would lie and play along just enough to get his way, and when he didn’t, his true colors would show. Cyren had witnessed it with her own father and other men she’d dated. She wasn’t trying to compare Heavy to any of them; she was just being realistic with the situation.
“Okay,” she said, sighing.
“You over there, sighing and shit. What about you?”
Cyren tilted her head. “What about me?”
“We already established we’re both single,” he said. “So what we on?”
Her eyes held his, steadily, but there was a lightness in them. He asked the question she’d wanted to the day he pulled up on her at her job. Her answer was still the same.
“We’re just having fun,” she said. “Enjoying the moment. Nothing too serious, right?”
“That’s it?” he asked.
Cyren shrugged, taking a sip from her water. “For now.”
He studied her, trying to read past whatever guard this was she was throwing up. It happened every time the topic got heavy.
“What’s serious to you?” he asked.
Cyren softly exhaled, her gaze drifting for a second before coming back to him. “I don’t know right now,” she admitted. “I’m just… enjoying whatever this is. Who knows. I might end up moving tomorrow.”
Heavy’s face twisted into a frown, and a clicking sound with his tongue against his teeth signaled his quick disapproval. “Man, stop playing.”
Cyren laughed, shaking her head. “I’m serious.”
He stepped around the bed, eliminating the space between them. “You just be saying anything.”
“I’m not, though,” she said, still smiling. “I could wake up and decide I need something different.”
Heavy looked at her like he was trying to decide if he liked that or not.
“Yeah,” he muttered, “I ain’t feeling that.”
Cyren laughed again. “And that’s fine.”
He didn’t have to feel it. Cyren was serious and meant everything she said. Heavy’s gaze dropped to her lips for a second before coming back up to her eyes.
“Yeah, a’ight. Until that happens, c’mere and sit that pussy on my face,” he commanded, tugging her to him.
She was doing too much talking and not enough with the lips he wanted to feel. Cyren wiggled in his embrace as he peppered her neck with kisses.
“Wait,” she breathed as his hands slid inside the back of her leggings. “I want to get in the shower.”
Heavy ran his nose up her neck, smelling a different scent than the one he’d fallen in love with. This one was just as pleasant. A natural, soft smell that had him ready to rip her clothes off.
“A’ight. You can do that,” he said, jiggling her butt in his hands. “This shit feels like Jello and fits my hands perfectly.”
His intrusive thoughts had him blurting words aloud, but he didn’t care. Heavy was infatuated, practically obsessed.
“And you’re talking about me just saying anything,” Cyren said, laughing and moving back some. “Can you get me a towel and stuff?”
Adjusting his dick, Heavy nodded. “Yeah.”
Cyren followed him into the bathroom with her bag in tow.
Heavy set a big towel, with a few smaller ones, on the counter before stepping out.
It didn’t matter how many times she’d been over a man’s house; her nerves still got the best of her.
She pulled all her essentials out of her bag and made sure the temperature was just right before stepping inside his walk-in shower.
As she scrubbed her skin, a wave of emotions settled in her body.
Cyren was good at putting on a front. Yes, she was serious about just having fun, but she was also unsure of how to navigate what she was feeling for Heavy.
He’d been practically the perfect man, yet she wasn’t sure if that was what she wanted right now—at least nothing serious, but the benefits that came with it.
“Just get out of your head and let it be what it is, not what it’s not,” she mumbled to herself.
Once she was out of the shower, Cyren oiled her body down, brushed her teeth, washed her face, and left the bathroom.
She needed to shampoo her hair anyway, so she didn’t bother putting a scarf on.
Heavy had the comforter pulled back, while he stood on the side of the bed scrolling through Netflix.
He stopped and eyed her in the tank top and boy shorts she wore.
Heavy grinned, loving how comfortable she looked in his space.
“You good?” he asked.
She nodded, placing her bag down. “Mhm.”
“A’ight. Here. You can turn on something. I’m bouta hop in the shower,” he said, tossing the Roku remote toward her side.
She climbed into bed while he made his way to the bathroom, leaving the door open.
Her body melted into the pillowtop mattress, making her feel like she was atop the fluffiest clouds.
Adjusting the pillows around her, Cyren didn’t bother to pick up the remote.
She grabbed her phone to send a quick text to Gabi.
I’m at this man’s house, and I think I like it here.
She smiled, hitting send. If she could be honest about her feelings with anyone, she could with her best friend.
As you should! Please get enough dick for both of us.
Cyren snickered under the covers but promised to do just that.
Locking her phone, she slid it onto the dresser and decided to see what was on Netflix.
She’d practically watched every new show that was recommended.
Knowing it’d just be background noise anyway, she turned on the Biggie documentary.
She was twenty minutes into it when Heavy stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind him.
Without an ounce of shame, Cyren watched as he padded across the room with a towel around his waist. She knew he was in good shape, but seeing his beautiful chocolate skin under dim light as he rubbed lotion on his body had her uncomfortably shifting under the sheets.
“You find something good?” Heavy asked, and her eyes moved from the tent in his towel to his face.
Cyren nodded. She’d found something better to watch.
“Baby,” he called out when she didn’t verbally answer him.
“Huh?”
He removed his towel and opened the drawer to grab some briefs. “You over there sleep?”
“No. Why’re you putting those on?” she asked.