Chapter 13
Naomi
“I Knew Better… And Still Went”
Iwas at my shop, living my best life. I was cutting hair, chopping it up with my staff, laughing, music blasting… when that text came through.
I had not thought about Ares, with the strength of God, and my man. I swear I willed myself not to. But the second I saw his name pop up, my damn heart started throbbing like it forgot the breakup ever happened.
I hated that.
I hated the way this young ass nigga had a hold on me.
But something in me knew this wasn’t about a haircut.
This man needed to get something off his chest.
Something real.
So there I was, finishing my client, trying to keep my hands from shaking, then packing my bag with everything I needed for his “haircut.”
“Where are you headed, Miss Ma’am?” one of my stylists asked with a smile.
“Headed to cut a family member’s hair. My next client isn’t for two hours, so I’ll be back.”
She nodded and went on about her day, but I could feel her eyes on me.
I knew she knew.
We all knew.
I got in my truck and sighed so deep it shook my chest.
Here I was, backtracking for a nigga that might not even give a fuck about me.
Still… I went.
I drove to DTLA, to the high-rise he was swallowed in. Being on his guest list meant the doorman escorted me straight to the elevator. VIP shit.
My heart raced as the elevator reached the 29th floor. I pulled out my THC vape and took a few puffs, trying to calm myself.
By the time the elevator opened into his foyer, I was high as hell and feeling like this was the first time I was meeting this man.
But I kept my cool.
And then he came strolling down the hallway looking like a damn thirst trap. Black Nike Tech sweats hanging low on his hips, bare chest out, tattoos on display, hair wet from the shower. His cologne smelled like money. Not regular money… billionaire money.
He took my hair bag gently from my hand and pulled me close. And out of habit, I wrapped my arms around him. We indulged in a passionate kiss. A kiss that should’ve never happened.
I pushed him off me quickly.
“We not doin’ that. We broke up, remember? After this, you gotta find another barber.”
“I already got one in rotation, but listen to me… This shit I got going on is more complicated than you think,” he said softly. “And I want you to be the first one to know what’s about to happen.”
“Well… I’m here to listen.”
He walked me to the dining area, and I started setting up my clippers, my guards, my cape, everything.
He dragged a chair out and sat, legs spread.
“You good?” he asked as I started cutting the back of his neck.
“No,” I answered honestly. “But go ahead.”
He looked down at his hands and rubbed his palms together as if warming them.
“My grandfather thinks I can’t handle myself,” he started, voice low. “He thinks I’m sloppy. And because of those fights y’all got into, now he’s gotta save face for the family. He thinks the Delacroix name is losing its shine.”
I blinked at him. “So what’s that gotta do with you?”
“Everything.” He exhaled.
“Now I gotta go into some arranged marriage shit to make the family look good again. Tie my bloodline to another mafia family. Some old, tired tradition they swear is gonna protect our legacy.”
I stopped clipping and stepped around him, staring.
“What?”
“I don’t know who it is yet. Some princess, some heir. They pick her, not me.”
His voice cracked a little. Not much, but enough for me to feel it.
I set the clippers down. “Ares…”
He shook his head. “I don’t want this shit, Naomi. But I ain’t got a choice. And I damn sure don’t want to be alone in the process.”
He reached up, grabbed my wrist gently, and tugged me until I was standing between his knees.
He made me look at him.
“You hear me? I don’t want to be without you, Naomi.”
My stomach knotted up.
He wasn’t lying.
I knew when this man lied… his left eye twitched.
It wasn’t twitching.
But I also had a man at home.
A real one.
A calm one.
A safe one.
Still… Ares had been my weakness for years.
“Ares… I can’t backtrack with you,” I whispered. “I feel for your situation, I do. But we’re supposed to be friends at best. I can’t be your comfort pussy when you’re down. I can’t do that.”
He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing, studying me like he was seeing straight through my clothes and straight through my soul.
“You think that’s all I want from you?”
“I know you,” I said. “I know how you move.”
“No, you don’t,” he murmured. “Not this part.”
His hand slid from my wrist up to my ass, gripping gently. I tried to pull away; he tightened his hold.
“Please,” he said quietly, so unlike him that it made me freeze. “I need you. You’re the only one I can trust.”
“Ares…”
“I mean it.”
He tugged me a little closer.
I felt weak and strong at the same time.
“Please,” he whispered again. “Don’t leave me by myself in this shit.”
His voice cracked something open in me.
“Ares… we can’t—”
He hit me with the one thing he knew would break my whole damn backbone.
“Naomi,” he breathed, leaning in, “je te veux près de moi.”
I sucked in a breath.
“I don’t know what that means.”
He smirked, lips brushing my cheek.
“It means… I want you close to me. Only you. Not the other girls. When things change, I promise you can walk away and don’t look back.”
Fuck.
“I have less than two hours to get back to the shop.”
“I’ll tap out before then.” He smirked.
Next thing I knew, Ares had me on his black silk sheets, naked, playing with my clit with his tongue. One thing about Ares’s sex game: it was always about me. But I knew he needed pleasure more than me. I lifted his head before I came, and then arched my ass for him.
He chuckled as he played with my pussy from behind.
“You’re always so pretty from back here,” he uttered.
I reached for his dick and did the honors. I moaned as he gave me deep strokes, damn near touching my guts, but I took all of him.
“Throw that ass back on me, doll.” He smacked my ass gently, and I started throwing it back on him like a porn star. All you could hear were my moans and my phat ass slamming against his pelvis.
“Damn, nana, this pussy good.” He damn near sounded like he was in prayer. He pulled me closer to him by my throat and whispered in my ear. “If I could choose you, pretty, I would. I never wanted to leave you,” he said as he pounded me.
I wanted to cry, but I melted into his words, creaming all over his dick. He checked and let my neck go.
“Look at you, cumming for daddy. Now, ride me.”
And I did, until my hair was sweated out, his toes curling and eyes rolling into the back of his head. Until this nigga nutted in me and started snoring almost forty minutes later. I lay there staring up at the ceiling.
I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t even cry.
I carefully slid off the top of him, showered under his waterfall, threw my wet ass hair in a ponytail, and then grabbed my bag. I tiptoed across the penthouse and hit the elevator before I changed my mind.
Walking down the hallway, my throat burned.
“I have to get away from this nigga,” I whispered to myself.
“But when?
I still love him.”
And that was the problem.
That was always the problem.