6. Daylin #2
“What did your brother mean about you wearing phone cases now?” I inquired.
Without a word, Rakim retrieved his phone from the pocket of his Nike track pants and handed it off before venturing into the bathroom.
My mouth fell open slightly at the sight of his iPhone being secured in one of Delicacies phone cases.
Not only that, but it was one of my designs.
“When did you get this?” I held it up as he emerged from the en suite, the sound of bath water running in the distance.
“Couple weeks ago.” He took up residence next to me at the edge of the bed, so I crawled into his lap and kissed him.
“We have so many orders that I wasn’t able to package this one myself, but I would’ve made it special,” I said.
“It already is.”
I smirked, drinking him in greedily.
The design he chose had roses and bandana print—very girly like most of the cases on my website—but he clearly didn’t care. I’d only designed four cases out of the eighty we had because I could sense that the public preferred the more esteemed and established artists’ creations.
“Why did you get this one? I know you like some of the others better.” I smirked.
“Nah, I liked this one. Even better, you drew the design.” He surveyed his phone case as he spoke, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him, falling into the urge I had to kiss his temple. “Why don’t you drop some more?”
“I haven’t in two years. I can tell people like what other people make.”
“What about muthafuckas like me? I only like yours.”
I blushed, rolling my eyes playfully.
“Only because it’s mine.” I hugged his neck.
“Nah, I just like this one best. Very LA, and I fuck with that. I think you should make some more of these muthafuckas.”
“And you’re not just saying that?”
“I’m not. I want the best for you, Baby, and I wouldn’t tell you some shit just ’cause it sound good. You may think people don’t fuck with yo’ shit as much but they do. Plus, you like to draw.”
I nodded as he started to help me out of my shoes and then made me stand to do the same with my dress.
We kissed sensually as he reached behind me to unfasten my bra before pushing down my underwear. Rising to his feet once I was naked, he went to the bathroom to shut the running faucet off.
“Is that for me?” I questioned when he came back out, dimming the light in the bathroom before coming toward me.
“You gon’ need to soak after.” He approached, snaking his hands into my hair and tugging my head back for a nasty, passionate kiss. “Made the water extra hot so it’ll last.”
Before I could say a word, he bent me over the bed, got down on his knees, and started to eat my pussy from behind. After bringing me to several orgasms, he tore my little box up, and I was so thankful for that hot bath plus the new books he’d bought me.
* * *
LAS VEGAS, NV . . . AYAN GODFREY V. brENT HARDING . . .
Rakim and I had just been picked up at the private airport in Las Vegas, and unfortunately, Josias and Tarin had rode in the jet with us so now the van as well.
I was trying my best not to be irritated with Josias, especially after his stupid ass had the nerve to ask me to speak on his behalf when he was still fucking up.
When he said he was coming along, I didn’t know why I thought he’d convinced Kasia to accompany him, when I knew she wouldn’t have folded so quickly this time.
I could see in her eyes and the way she spoke that this wasn’t like the previous breakups she’d mentioned.
So, now I had to ride and pretend I wasn’t annoyed.
The whole point of this trip was to see Ayan fight.
This was a big match, and everyone would be in Vegas to see it.
Rakim wanted no parts initially, but I was able to convince him once he’d told me he’d never truly been on any type of vacation.
I didn’t have to do much to get Rakim to give me what I wanted, especially if I put my throat to work.
And after swearing we would have sex every night while here, he was sold.
Little did he know, I loved fucking him, and after having been on a hiatus, I was like a dog in some severe heat.
I had to keep in mind how excited I was to vacation with my man and not think about the people I didn’t want here.
And though he and Ayan didn’t get along, the few times I’d seen the brothers in the same room, they didn’t acknowledge one another, so I wasn’t worried about any altercations or big blowouts.
“Man, I cannot wait to see my room!” Tarin exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes, making Rakim squeeze my exposed thigh.
When I looked at him, he only smirked slightly and shook his head at me. I offered up a smile to non-verbally assure him that I would be on my best behavior during our trip.
“Me too. I love the Ferrari Hotel,” I replied, doing my best to be cordial.
While I didn’t care for Tarin, the root of these issues was Josias, so I would reel in my aggravation.
“Girl, yes! I only stay there, so Jojo knew better than to book anywhere else.” She smacked her lips, and I just nodded, even though she couldn’t see me since she and Josias were seated in the second row of the van while Rakim and I were in the back.
We made it to the hotel about five minutes later and immediately checked in before heading for the elevators.
“Aye, you think I could get ya autograph?” An older man walked up on Rakim and me. I could tell my baby was shocked and slightly confused.
“For what?” he questioned, staring down into the man’s face.
“You not Rakim Godfrey? The boxer?” The fan retreated a few steps, surveying Rakim to see if he’d made a mistake.
“Uh, . . . nah . . . I mean, yeah, I am.” He nodded, and the man lit up, handing him some sort of map and a pen, pointing to the area he wanted him to sign.
Upon getting his map back, the fan said, “Appreciate that. Wish we could see you fight tonight.”
Rakim was on stuck as the man, his wife, and children rushed off. Josias and Tarin were nowhere in sight, having already hopped on the elevator to ride up to their suite.
“Wow, that’s dope,” I finally commented now that we had some quiet on the elevator.
“For a second, I ain’t know how to fucking respond.” Rakim looked down for a moment, clearly in deep thought.
“I wish you were fighting tonight too.” I winked as the elevator opened on our floor.
“I am.” He patted my ass, trailing me off the elevator. “Me versus that pussy.”
“Not right now. We have to go see the fight, and I need to shower and stuff.” I giggled when he grabbed a handful of my ass in the tiny shorts I wore.
“We can fuck in the shower.” He used the fancy fob they’d given us to open the door to the beautiful spacious suite that was reminiscent of a luxury apartment in New York. “Remember what you promised a nigga.” He embraced me from behind once he’d dropped our bags and began kissing on my neck.
“You are so thirsty, Rah.” I moaned, feeling his big hand move down into my athletic booty shorts.
“For you.”
Too turned on to wait to get the shower going, we undressed and got to making love on the couch in the living room area. I loved how he could switch it up, fucking me roughly or being so passionate with it, yet I would cum the same amount of times.
He tended to my body so, right there in the living room, that instead of feeling worn out after and in need of a nap, I felt refreshed and ready to get my night started.
LATER THAT NIGHT . . .
Ayan had won his match against Brent Harding, and though I thought he was a terrible ass person, I couldn’t say it didn’t warm my heart and remind me that he was human when he dedicated his win to his little brother Zaire.
The audience, along with Ayan, became teary eyed at the mention of his late brother, and I could tell his emotions were genuine.
As much as I wanted to write him off as just being trash, I couldn’t erase the shit Rakim had told me. Same time, I still didn’t like him.
“Rich As Fuck” by Lil Wayne blared from the elevated speakers inside of Canopy, the club within the Ferrari Hotel. It was Ayan’s after-party, and the shit was packed wall to wall.
The celebration had started shortly after the fight, but Rakim wanted to separate from the group and take me to dinner, which I was all for. Now, it was around two a.m., and we were ascending the stairs to get to the section everyone was in.
“Thought you muthafuckas weren’t coming!” Josias shouted out, greeting his brother and me.
“I ain’t want to,” Rakim mumbled, and I elbowed him in the side.
I felt eyes on me, and when I scanned the area, I saw it was not only LaMia watching me but Nate Godfrey as well. I gave a closed-mouth smile to the latter, but he kept surveilling me, stale faced like a damn creep.
“These wings.” Tarin tore into her chicken as we migrated closer to where she and Josias were seated.
“They look good,” I commented as my phone buzzed.
“I’m out!” Ayan barked and stormed past us all, leaving LaMia with her mouth agape and looking stupid. His father didn’t even look up from the young girl he was entertaining.
“What’s his problem?” Tarin asked, shoving a bunch of fries between her glossed lips.
“Mad about his interview after the fight. Nigga asked him if he thought he’d ever be better than Rah.” Josias shook his head, sighing. “Said he was leaving if the club let Rah in.”
“Oh.” Tarin shrugged, not giving a damn as I looked over at Rakim who seemed to be unbothered. I was sure he was used to Ayan’s antics when it came to him.
Kasia: He won I see. How is it?
Kasia: Sorry just got off work. It was crazy tonight.
Me: He did. It’s fine so far. No drama or issues. :)
I locked my phone as the song switched to “Sex With Me” by Rihanna. Waiting for Rakim to finish pouring cognac into his cup, I slid into his lap and began to grind my ass against him.