17. Rakim
SEVENTEEN
rakim
MYKONOS . . .
With all the shit I had going on, I knew even more was bound to hit the fan, but before it did, I wanted to do something nice and private for my girl.
So when Daylin told me she had a passport but had only used it once on a terrible trip to Mexico, I knew I not only had to add some stamps to that shit but erase the one international trip she had from her memory.
Admittedly, I didn’t vacation like that either.
Anytime I had to leave the country, it was for business.
I saw no value in taking time off just to look at the fucking water or be by my lonesome.
All I would do was become swallowed up by my thoughts, and whether I was in the US or Italy, the shit didn’t feel good.
I also hadn’t met a woman that I felt comfortable enough with to fly out the country.
Majority of the time, when you spent too much fucking time with a woman, she justifiably began to expect more from y’all’s relationship, and I wasn’t on that prior to Daylin.
Dinner, movie, conversation, and a couple sex-filled nights together were all I was willing to proffer.
By saying that, bae-cations were off the list.
“I’m so excited!” Daylin bounced in her seat as our driver pulled up to Cavo Tagoo, the hotel we’d be staying in for the next two weeks.
“You don’t even know where we going.” I touched her exposed thigh. “And stop bouncing like that.”
“Why?” She halted, adjusting the dress she’d changed into while the jet made a stop to refuel. When I looked at her body, she sucked her teeth.
“Making me think about you bouncing on something else,” I half joked, adjusting myself on the low.
“It’s so beautiful out here.” Daylin seemingly ignored me, moving across my lap to peer out of my window instead of her own.
“Quit playing.” I smacked her round ass, making her giggle. “You think it’s funny now, but when you need a wheelchair escort for dinner, I don’t wanna hear it.”
She guffawed, making me chuckle as I took her in just before the back door came open.
“Welcome to Cavo Tagoo,” the young white woman greeted, beaming.
“Thank you!” Daylin answered as I helped her down while I simply nodded at old girl.
“I got the bags and shit. I just need a cart,” I stated, and she nodded.
A cart was delivered expeditiously, and I piled everything on before we checked in and got the room keys.
I’d booked a suite, the biggest one of the one bedrooms since I didn’t want a lick of fucking space from Daylin. That way, if she did get upset on the trip, she’d be forced to still lie next to a nigga or at least not go too far.
“This room!” Daylin squealed, rushing right to the view the suite provided.
We had our own private pool, with two beds suspended above it, and a perfect panorama of the sea. Shit was peaceful, but only because I was here with her.
Setting our bags down, I watched my lady peruse the suite excitedly, grinning over at me as she held up whatever had caught her eye, and I knew this was what the fuck it felt like to be in love for real.
Seeing her excited, happy, and fulfilled made a nigga feel like he was worthy of everything. I never knew that feeling.
With LaMia, I did nice shit for her because that was part of courting a woman.
A nigga who complained about buying flowers or taking his lady on dinner dates or doing anything nice for his girl most likely wanted to be doing it for niggas or have a nigga do it for him.
Real niggas enjoyed treating a woman like a woman and experiencing all there was to women.
But I digressed. I didn’t get overcome with elation seeing LaMia enjoy shit I did for her like with Daylin. Every fucking day I opened my eyes, I thought about how I could make sure her day went smoothly and without a hitch. Shit was unreal.
“What you wanna do first?” I asked as she neared me, standing on her tiptoes to attempt to toss her arms around my neck.
We’d showered on the jet and changed clothes shortly before landing so we could explore a bit before getting ready for dinner later.
Daylin kissed me on the lips as I held her up—she was too short for me not to. She sucked my bottom lip into her mouth, pulling back with a lustful gaze before making me put her down.
“I wanna suck your dick,” she stated explicitly, reaching down into my joggers, and I put my hands up to let her do her thing.
And that, she fucking did.
LATER THAT EVENING . . .
After getting that balance ruining head, I needed a minute, and to clean up.
But once Daylin and I had both spruced up, we left out to shop on Matoyianni Street, where I told Daylin to go crazy.
She tried to be humble at first, but after we stopped for drinks and light food, she started using my money as if I were growing that shit in my backyard, and I wasn’t complaining.
Now, after fucking, taking a nap, then showering together and brushing our teeth, it was time to go out to dinner at this spot called Meraki.
“Right this way.” The hostess simpered before leading us off to our table that sat along the beach.
We could see other hotels and homes across the water and a big ass cruise ship sailing by as I pulled Daylin’s seat out for her.
“This place is so beautiful, and the weather is perfect all day.” Daylin beamed.
She wore a pretty blue dress that complemented her caramel skin perfectly and allowed her curly hair to blow freely in the welcomed breeze.
I could only shake my head subtly at how striking baby girl was as she talked.
“It’s nice to pick an outfit and be able to keep it on from sunup to sundown, unlike back home. ”
“Facts.” I chuckled, remembering the few times Daylin would leave the crib in a dress, but because LA got cold as fuck once the sun vanished, we’d have to venture home so she could change. I imagined that shit to be daunting as a woman, but as a man, I wasn’t bothered by the cold like that.
The waitress approached, introducing herself, and then took some drink orders. Daylin got some shit called Black Ambrosia while I got some cognac straight.
“You should try a fancy drink once, Rah. You don’t have to be so boring.” She rolled her eyes playfully.
“Boring niggas have yo’ feet touching the headboard?” I frowned out of playful confusion, snickering when she sucked her teeth.
“Shut up. And yes, a boring man could possibly do that.” She giggled before she could even finish, knowing she was lying like fuck.
“I ain’t ever heard a woman call a nigga boring that be folding her ass up and have her ass making faces like you be making.”
“Okay, next subject.” She blushed, grinning. “And I meant boring with your drink choices. You could never be dull, even if you wanted to. For one, you’re too damn fine. Bitches wouldn’t care if you were a mute, looking like that.”
We chortled subtly just as the waitress returned with the drinks and took orders for the appetizer and main courses. We both opted for the wagyu steaks, even though I knew Daylin wouldn’t finish half of the shit she’d ordered. She swore she’d take it to the room to eat later though.
It wasn’t too long before the food came, and by this time, Daylin had decided to sit next to me instead of across, which a nigga preferred anyway.
“Must be good, baby. You ain’t said shit since that plate was set down.” I took a sip of my cognac.
“My bad.” She smirked. “It is. I honestly haven’t had a steak this good since Cynthia made one for me.”
“Yeah, Cynthia is a beast with them fucking steaks.” I cosigned.
After taking a sip of her cocktail, she looked over and up at me, so I kissed her, not giving a fuck about the glossy shit slathered on her lips that had lasted through two drinks, an appetizer, and now food.
“I was expecting to be fed more humbly when I was . . . being held by you.” She lowered her voice for the latter half of her sentence. “But nope; it was steaks, stuffed chickens, and more.
“I liked you, Baby,” I spoke truthfully. “I wasn’t ’bout to feed you no old bread and porridge.”
We chuckled in unison.
“So you fed me that well because you liked me?” She had brightened so much that she could light up a room, the sight making me titter.
“I had to keep you locked down, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Told you the main reason I snatched you up in particular was because I wanted to fuck with you,” I explained just before I ate a piece of my steak.
I could feel Daylin watching me, especially because she was cuddled up under a nigga as she ate.
“What?” I asked, slightly amused by her enamored ass stare.
Shrugging one shoulder, she replied, “I don’t know. That’s sweet. The amazing food, getting my oral hygiene products—even though you didn’t do the same for my body and face—the books. Even though I was there against my will, I don’t think I’ve ever been treated better by a man.”
Pressing my lips to hers a few times, I said, “First nigga and the last nigga to do it.”
“Yep.” She smirked happily, getting back into her food. “Still, you choosing me instead of my siblings because you wanted to get with me makes you a bit crazy, babe.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
It took forever for us to finish because of the kiss breaks, and then Daylin, per usual, was talking about every fucking thing under the sun.
I wasn’t the most talkative nigga, only really speaking around her and my brothers, but I enjoyed listening to shit she said. The natural segues she took to move from one topic to another without fail was admirable.
Some people went to the beach, allowing the waves to calm their spirits or even rolled one up and hoped the weed did it, but listening to my baby prattle on about random shit was what I sought out whenever a nigga needed some tranquility.
Nothing better than coming home after a long ass day and listening to Daylin run her fucking mouth to me.