Chapter 9
I n a p l u s h towel, I finished plating the last of the food and stepped back to look over everything. The steak bites were done perfectly, the garlic mashed potatoes were buttery, and the asparagus was roasted just right.
I made sure the lights were low and the candles were lit before starting the playlist I made.
The scent of vanilla, brown sugar, and honey butter floated through my apartment.
I glanced at the clock on the wall to see that it was a little after six.
I still had time to shower and slip into my lingerie before Ahmad arrived.
As I walked toward the bathroom, my phone started ringing in my hand.
I glanced at the screen and rolled my eyes before answering. “Hey, Ma.”
“Mmm,” she said. “You sound like you’re busy.”
“I am busy,” I replied, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear as I stepped out of my clothes and turned the water on. “Just tryna get myself together.”
“For who?” she asked immediately, all up in it. “You got somebody coming over?”
I laughed and stepped into the shower. “Why are you like this?”
“Because I know you,” she said. “It’s Valentine’s Day, and I can hear the music in the background, too. Setting the mood, huh?”
I shook my head, smiling to myself as I set the phone on the sink and put it on speakerphone. “Maybe.”
She hummed. “That means yes. It’s okay, Tae. You’re grown. I just hope he has a job and clean fingernails.”
“Goodbye,” I laughed, lathering my skin with my coconut and vanilla scrub. “You’re doing the most.”
“I’m just saying! I don’t want you wasting time with nobody’s dusty ass son, especially not on Valentine’s Day. You’ve always been secretive about your little love life.”
“Because you don’t have boundaries,” I said, rinsing off. “You start asking too many questions, and next thing I know, you’re sending links to bridal shower venues.”
“Well… am I wrong?” she said, and I could hear her grinning.
I ignored that, stepping out of the shower to dry off, and walked to the mirror. My phone buzzed with a text from Ahmad.
I texted him back immediately.
“Tae,” my mom said. “At least tell me his name.”
“I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”
“So, there is somebody!”
I groaned. “You’re annoying. Byeee!”
“You’re secretive. But I’ll let you live,” she said, sighing like she had just made the ultimate sacrifice. “But he better not break your heart. You hear me?”
“I hear you.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I know,” I said, softer this time. “I really do know.”
After we hung up, I got myself together. I slowly moisturized with cocoa butter and vanilla oil, leaving my skin glowing. My body was soft and warm, and my hair was still pin curled under my bonnet.
I gave my face a soft beat with some concealer, powder, nude lips, warm cheeks, and lashes just long enough to flirt without trying too hard. A spritz of perfume was sprayed on my wrists, behind my knees, and on my ankles. Then I slipped into my red lace lingerie and robe, adding gold accessories.
Giving myself one final look in the mirror, I whispered, “Yeah. He’s not gonna be able to breathe when he sees me.”
Leaving my room, I headed for the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. Then, I set out Ahmad’s Remy on ice, and about fifteen minutes later, I heard a knock at the door. It was seven o’clock on the dot.
My stomach did this little flip, nerves and excitement all mixed up. I grabbed my phone from the dresser and made my way to the door. I opened it, and my heart fluttered.
Ahmad stood there looking like a walking reason to mess up every ounce of self-control I had left.
Fresh haircut, chain resting just right over his black hoodie, that clean smell hitting me instantly—soap, cologne, a little weed.
He held a gift bag in one hand and a subtle grin on his face, like he already knew he was trouble.
“Damn,” we said in unison as his eyes flickered up and down my body.
“Why you answerin’ the door like this?” he asked, licking his lips with his eyebrows furrowed. “It coulda been anybody on the other side.”
“Nope,” I smiled, reaching for the gift bag he held out. “You knew to show up on time for this.” I stepped back to let him in, heart thudding hard as hell now as I tried to keep cool. Tonight was about to be a trip, and we both knew it.
Ahmad stepped in, rubbing his hands together and sniffing the air like he was about to dive into a five-star meal. “Goddamn,” he said, dragging the word out like he meant it. “It smell good as hell in here. I’m hungrier than a mahfucka.”
I grinned and shut the door behind him. “I don’t cook for just anybody.”
“What you make? Chicken tenders, boxed yellow rice, and corn?”
I swear, I wanted to slap the laugh out of him when he said that. Then again, he was used to some young hoes. Cutting my eyes his way, I said, “Wrong. Juicy steak bites, garlic mashed, and roasted asparagus.”
He turned to me, eyebrows raised. “You tryna make a nigga propose?”
“Boy, shut up,” I laughed, turning to lead him toward the kitchen.
He grabbed my hand, pulled me into him, and wrapped an arm around my waist. My body went damn near limp as his lips brushed mine, slow and sweet at first, then deeper.
His tongue moved like he’d decided my mouth was one of his favorite places to be.
By the time he pulled back, my knees were lowkey buckling, and my pussy was already throbbing.
“Open that,” he said, nodding towards the gift bag in my hand. His palm slid over my ass real casual, but the way he gripped it had me ready to skip dinner at the table and go straight to the bed for dessert.
I smirked up at him as I reached into the bag, tissue paper rustling while he watched me like I was unwrapping a bomb. The first thing I pulled out was a bottle of Patrón, and I smiled. “You remembered.”
He nodded. “You ain’t the only one that pays attention, Tae.”
Then I reached in again and pulled out a small black box. I looked up at him, one brow raised. “A card game?”
Ahmad leaned in again, mouth hovering over mine. “Yup. We eat, we drink, we play... we vibe tonight.”
I stared at him, confused. “But... we’re still gonna fuck though, right?”
He burst out laughing, head thrown back as he shook it. “Yo, you wild. You don’t waste no damn time.”
“I’m just saying,” I shrugged, trying not to smile too hard. “All this pent-up tension needs to be released.”
“Relax, horny ass. I still got what you need,” he said, kissing my forehead. “Let’s eat first. Then I’ma stretch you out and put yo’ ass to sleep.”
“Mmhmm…” I warmed up our plates, and we sat down at the table with the playlist vibing low in the background.
Ahmad dug into his plate as if it were his first real meal in weeks. “This shit’s fire, Tae. On God.”
I sipped my drink and leaned back, watching him eat with that satisfied look on his face. “I can cook cook.”
“I see that. I’m lowkey scared of how good this is,” he said between bites. “You feedin’ a nigga, keepin’ yo’ house clean, got candles lit, you smellin’ like heaven. And I know that pussy pretty and waxed.”
I tilted my head, digging into my plate. “Maybe. So, when can I get my chocolate?”
“You askin’ too many questions. Just eat.” He grinned, and I laughed.
Clinking my glass with his, I said, “Alright, fine.”
Dinner turned into flirty glances and jokes. Ahmad slid his chair closer, legs brushing mine. We talked about random shit like crazy coworkers, our favorite albums, and movies we could watch over and over again. And through it all, the pulsing between my legs grew more intense by the minute.
The way he looked at me like I was dessert. The way I licked my lips on purpose because I knew he was watching. The way his hand kept brushing my thigh like he couldn’t help it. Valentine’s Day was just getting started for us.