Chapter 8
T he Point Palace Nightclub was packed for Ladies’ Night, but being friends with the owner had its perks.
Emon led Blake through the VIP entrance, his hand protective at the small of her back.
She looked incredible in a copper-colored satin corset dress that made her melanin glow under the club lights.
He couldn’t deny that she filled it out perfectly.
The Bamboo B heels by Brandon Blackwood complimented the dress perfectly.
She was looking and smelling good enough to eat.
“Your friend owns this?” Blake asked, leaning close so he could hear her over the music.
“Yeah, me and Kashdyn go way back,” Emon grinned, nodding at the security guard, who directed them to a private section overlooking the dance floor.
“That’s what’s up. You know, sometimes I like that there’s a certain code we live by and certain access we get.”
“We? You a thug, too, baby?”
“No, but my daddy was.” She laughed. He kissed her cheek and smiled. He loved that she got his sense of humor and that she had turned into someone he could kick back with and also decompress from a hard day of being the boss.
“Thug adjacent, huh? I fuck with it.”
“Exactly,” Blake said. Emon laughed, and so did she. He appreciated her being goofy as hell around him and allowing him to be the same.
Emon hadn’t had it easy growing up. His mom was all he had.
His father’s absence taught him early that a man had to know how to get money and provide by any means.
There was a special kind of hurt that came from watching your mama cry over late bills or seeing her empty chair at basketball games because she was working her second job.
But he never resented her hustle. If anything, it made him love her harder.
Watching her sacrifice everything just to keep food on the table had shaped him into the man he was today.
By sixteen, he was already thinking like a provider, starting with his first carwash hustle, using borrowed buckets and stolen garden hoses.
Now at thirty three, he owned three legitimate businesses, but that little boy who hated seeing his mama cry still lived in his heart.
Maybe that was why he was such a giver. Emon knew what it felt like to want better for someone you loved.
She was still the only person he’d die for without hesitation, at least until Blake crashed into his life with her healing hands and heart of gold.
Now he had found someone else worth building the future for, someone who made him want to be better than his circumstances.
He wanted to give Blake the kind of love that came without strings or conditions, the type of love his daddy never knew how to give.
And now that he had her in his sight, he wasn’t about to let a blessing slip through his fingers.
“I’ll give you that. You look fuckin’ good, by the way.” He leaned in and whispered against her neck. “Smell good, too, mhmm.”
Her body responded exactly how it was supposed to when a man of his caliber was in your space whispering the things you liked to hear.
Her nipples perked up against the fabric of her dress, and he noticed.
Emon closed his eyes because it was deeper than that with him, but he couldn’t deny that he wanted to eat her like a sundae with a cherry on top.
“I need a drink,” she mentioned, feeling the pleasure and desire rise and heat the space around them.
“Whatever you want, love. The night is yours, on me.” The two separated with him going to the rail to look out at the section while she poured herself a drink. The night was hers, but the world was, too, if that was what she wanted.
The club was live, and he hoped he could show her a good time to get the bullshit from earlier off her mind.
That was the whole point of the night. They rode over, listening to music and vibing.
He’d made sure she ate good at Vincetto’s, the Italian restaurant she loved, and now they’d close the night out dancing and partying at the club, something they both rarely did.
As she came up behind him, arms around his waist, with D’usse on her breath.
He stilled, allowing his mind to catch up with her being this close to him.
He thought he loved her already, but he wasn’t sure.
There was a deep obligation he felt to her, but maybe it stopped at obligation.
Quickly, he shook that thought from his head.
Nah, he liked her, like for real. Blake had him soul searching to ensure he didn’t have any loose ends or anything going on that would take her from him. Her voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“You good?” she asked, still holding him from behind.
The liquor had her feeling warm and brave.
Emon knew her pussy was gushy, warm, and begging to be tasted.
Restraint was something he had, but it was hard around Blake.
Her laugh made his dick jump, her eye roll made his dick jump, the way she held the highlighter in her mouth while studying made his dick jump.
It didn’t matter what she was doing, he was feeling her.
“More than good. Just thinking about how we got here.” He turned to face her, keeping her close. “Tell me something I don’t know about you yet.”
Blake thought for a moment, swaying slightly to the music. “I used to be a cheerleader. Had the whole dream of cheering in the NFL. I was good enough too.”
“Now that I gotta hear about.” He laughed, leading her to sit in one of the plush VIP booths.
“My daddy never missed a competition. He’d be front row with this huge sign, embarrassing me in the best way.” She smiled at the memory, but it was bittersweet. “After he passed during my senior year, nothing felt the same. Couldn’t find that same joy in it anymore.”
“Speaking of your pops,” Emon said carefully, “tell me about him. What would he think about all this?” He gestured between them.
Blake leaned back, taking another shot. “Honestly? He would’ve liked you. Not at first,” she grinned, “but once he saw how you moved, he would’ve been a big fan, I think... Daddy always said judge a man by his actions, not his image.”
“And what about my actions?” Emon’s hand found the inside of her thigh, his thumb tracing small circles on her smooth skin. He’d asked the question, but the feel of her skin had him struggling to focus on the answer.
“You take care of people. That pantry? The way you look out for your employees? Your mom? Me? That would’ve meant something to him. He woulda respected that.”
“What about you? What means something to you?”
Blake turned to face him fully. “The fact that you asked. Most men I dated were so caught up trying to impress me, they never actually tried to know me.”
“Oh, I’m definitely trying to impress you too.” He smirked. “But I also want to know everything. Like why nursing really? You could’ve done anything.”
“Remember when I told you it was grief?” She waited for his nod. “After Daddy passed, I kept thinking about his last moments. Who was with him? Did they try hard enough to save him? I wanted to be that person for somebody else’s father, somebody else’s brother, loved one.”
“That’s both heavy and beautiful.” His hand moved to cup her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. “But that’s exactly why I’m feeling you like I do. You got a big heart, bigger than anyone I’ve ever met.”
She cleared her throat and stood. It was getting a little too constricting for her.
And this was the club. They were supposed to be getting drunk and partying.
Instead, he was only concerned with knowing more about her.
She no doubt liked Emon. He had been good to her, but was she ready to be more than friends? He watched her and gave her some space.
Before he could check on her, his boy Kashdyn had stepped into their section with his wife Lucki behind him. Lucki was beautiful, and she knew it. In fact, Lucki’s vibe matched Blake’s he knew they would hit it off.
Emon introduced them to Blake, and this felt real grown man of him.
He had dated in the past, but nothing serious ever came from it.
He’d fuck on something here and there, but he chased the money at all times.
His mama always told him, “Closed mouths don’t get fed,” and he took that literally.
He stayed focused on his paper, expanding his businesses, and building generational wealth. Women came and went.
But Blake? She had him wanting to show her off, proud to have her on his arm as he made introductions.
For the first time, he wasn’t just thinking about his next business move.
Now he was thinking about building something with someone.
The way she carried herself, intelligent and sexy without trying, had him seeing past just the physical.
Though watching her tonight, he had to admit the physical was testing his self-control something serious.
“Good job, she’s beautiful and got a kind spirit,” Lucki whispered to Emon before heading out of the section. No one had to tell him that. He’d witnessed her goodness for himself.
Blake was feeling good after three shots of D’usse.
The music switched to Mariah the Scientist’s “Walked In” featuring Young Thug, and her entire demeanor changed.
Emon watched with hooded eyes, transfixed, as she moved to the beat.
Gone was his composed nursing student. In her place was a woman who knew exactly how fucking fine she was. One who knew exactly what she wanted.
Her hips swayed to the rhythm, and Emon felt his mouth dry.
The same hands that had patched him up with such care were now trailing down her body as she danced, and lord if it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
She was living art in motion, and even through the club’s haze, he could see God’s plan unfolding.
That gunshot might have been meant for harm, but it led him straight to her door.
Even through the pain that day, something in his spirit told him this was divine timing.
People might see the street in him and might question who and what he worshipped, but Emon had always been a believer.
His grandmother had taught him early that God’s blessings came in unexpected packages.
Watching Blake now, all grace and fire in front of him, he sent up a silent prayer of gratitude. His patience in waiting had been rewarded with something better than he could have planned for himself.
“Oh, now you showing out?” he teased as she danced for him. He stood and placed a hand on her waist while she moved her body against him, her hips moving in ways that had him gripping them tighter and bringing her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” She grinned.
With a hand now resting her on ass cheek, he whispered, “We gon’ see.”
“We will,” she said, her hands sliding up his chest as she danced and rapped the lyrics to the song in his face.
Want none of that cappin’ ‘bout booin’ up
See I know what it is, I know what it does
Looked in his eyes and asked him “What you tryna do?”, ooh-ooh
The liquor had her bold, but the way Emon looked down at her like she was everything had her feeling herself even more. His hands gripped her ass, pulling her closer. “Careful now. You playing with fire.”
Blake turned her back to him, rolling her body against his in a way that had nearby people stopping to watch. “Maybe I want to.”
“Nah, you trying to kill me or get fucked,” Emon groaned out, but his eyes were heated as they tracked her movements. He’d seen plenty of women dance before, but watching Blake let loose like this, trusting him enough to show this side of herself was doing something to him.
She spun around again, wrapping his arms around her before slowly grinding into him. Emon’s hand splayed across her stomach, holding her against him as they moved together.
“You know everybody watching you right now?” he whispered in her ear in disbelief that she was enjoying all eyes on her. He was turned on and she knew it.
Blake reached back to run her fingers through his beard. “Let them watch. I’m only dancing for you, though, just so we’re clear.”
Gah damn , he thought.