7. Daylin #2
I caught a glimpse of his gun as he started to turn and leave.
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” I called out.
Truly, I wasn’t the least bit sorry; I just wanted to talk with him and convince him to stay a little longer. In that moment when I’d nicknamed him a bitch ass nigga, he was in fact being a bitch ass nigga, so I would never be sorry for that.
Rakim only bobbed his head in response to me, not saying a word as he swaggered out of the bedroom.
Hours later . . .
The loud sounds of ruckus startled me out of my sleep, and seemingly just in time because my bladder was screaming. Sitting up and doing my best to hold it in, I began to panic, realizing it was the middle of the night, and Rakim wouldn’t likely be coming to check on me any time soon.
Knowing the bathroom was out, I began to scour the room in search of something I could relive myself into and that was within reach since I was cuffed.
Just as I began to get anxious, the door came open, and heavy footsteps followed before the whole room lit up, thanks to Rakim turning on the desk lamp.
“You aight?” he queried, onyx skin dripping in sweat and making me lose my train of thought. “Motion detector is wilding.”
He was shirtless, and his top half was riddled with abs, perspiration, and tattoos. On his bottom half were a pair of basketball shorts, socks, and low top Chuck Taylors. Judging by the boxing gloves sitting on the desk, I was able to surmise that Rakim had been working out on the punching bag.
I found myself speechless. In awe. Probably drooling at the sight of this man, making him look me over with his brows kissing in worry.
“Oh, I have to pee.” I suddenly remembered, in disbelief that the pain I’d been in due to having to piss had completely dissipated at the sight of this man in all his fine ass nigga glory.
“Aight,” he replied, making his way over to me and hitting me with the scent of his cologne instead of musty balls and armpits like I’d been expecting.
There was nothing worse than the smell of a dirty dick and balls.
As he unlocked the cuff, I stole glances at his handsome face and full lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
Standing as soon as he retreated from the bed, I made my way into the bathroom and sat on the toilet to release. While I did, I attempted to talk some sense into my-damn-self about all the overly lustful thoughts I was having about Rakim.
I’d never been the type of woman to be extremely sexual or dick crazy.
Yet ever since I’d been in captivity, all I thought about was Rakim’s lips, his big hands, that dick print, fucking, sex positions, and orgasms. For the first time, I regretted removing sex from my life because had I been fucking on Shaun, I wouldn’t be sitting here in heat.
The last sexual escapade of mine had been years ago.
I stood to wipe then flush before going to wash my hands.
As I soaped up my hands, I closed my eyes in order to pray away the lust, but my mind drifted to Rakim’s big, sweaty, chocolate body, making me shoot my eyes open and beg God internally to forgive my pathetic ass.
I couldn’t even pray right because of this nigga.
Shaking my head as I dried my hands and left the bathroom, I paused upon seeing the laptop sitting on the bed.
“What’s that?” I quizzed, coming closer.
“So you can check on yo’ shit. A nigga ain’t gotta warn you to keep shit business only, right?” He cocked his head, and I shook my own, masking it as my answer when really I was disappointed in how alluring I found every mannerism of his.
“Nope. All business, sir. I promise.” I winked at him, half smiling, but I dropped it when I noticed him taking me in seriously.
Seemingly catching himself, he said, “Cool.” Then, he walked off toward the desk to kick it while I handled my business.
I checked my sales, which were doing great, then answered some emails from my staff asking where I was or other questions about certain products, then I shot an email to Morgin stating I had a family emergency which was the reason for my absence.
I knew her ass was too self-centered to even ask what the emergency was, and I guessed I was thankful for that at the moment.
Looking over the laptop screen, I spotted Rakim fixing a thread on his boxing glove.
“You like to box?” I asked, feigning ignorance as to who he used to be.
When he told me he knew that I recognized him, I wasn’t sure if he meant from his boxing career, Ayan’s party, or his sensational murder of Judd Jenkins.
“I do,” he answered shortly.
“Why didn’t you become a pro like your brother?” I pushed the ignorance envelope a little further.
He chuckled a bit, presumably at my lack of knowledge on him, and said, “I did, but I guess it just wasn’t meant to last.”
“How so?” I closed the laptop, intrigued to hear what happened from the source himself instead of the internet articles.
Rakim parted his lips but then caught himself, leaning up off the desk and moseying toward me to grab the laptop.
“You done?”
“I am.” I nodded my head, bummed at the fact that he wasn’t going to delve any further. “Thank you again.”
“You straight.” He nodded then started to turn but halted his steps.
“I apologize for being aggressive with you earlier. That ain’t me.
I ain’t the nigga that presses women, especially over words.
Despite that, I won’t allow you or anyone else to disrespect me, regardless of ya fucking gender.
Today is the first and last time you’ll get a pass on calling me a bitch. ”
“Meaning if I call you one right now, it will be fine since it’s today?” I jested, and when he smirked before licking his lips, I was so surprised I was speechless. I bet his actual smile was just as beautiful as him.
“Take yo’ ass to sleep, Mike Epps.” He shook his head, gathering the laptop, his boxing gloves, and turning off the lamp.
He left behind the pleasant smell of his cologne that acted as a lullaby, peppering the air so that it caused me to drift off to sleep with a small smile on my face.