8. JUSTINA
Later that evening, I mapped out a plan to dodge Dane.
If I had to order room service the rest of my stay, I would do so.
Subjecting myself to him would be utterly foolish.
Especially since I wasn’t good for making healthy decisions until I truly cleared my mind of everything that happened in the last few weeks.
As I submerged myself inside a hot bubble bath, I leaned against the clawfoot tub and sighed. All I wanted was to be Justina for once. While I loved being Majesty, Majesty’s light was intense and eclipsed Justina. I wasn’t able to breathe without the weight of Majesty suffocating me.
Not that I wanted to quit on myself. My talent was unmatched, and I would never disown my gift just because things got sticky and intense.
On the contrary, I refused to let all my hard work go to waste.
As long as I blocked out the noise and remained true to myself, Justina and Majesty could continue to coexist. Despite the chatter of my breakup with Shy T clouding my upcoming album release, the noise surrounding him would eventually die down.
Life would go back to some form of normalcy, and I’d get back to pretending like I wasn’t ready to be down bad in love.
With someone other than Dane, of course.
I spent breakfast holed up in my suite, binge-watching Criminal Minds.
By lunchtime, I was over it and ready to explore Onyx Cove Resort.
However, the fear of running into Dane kept me in bed, ordering myself another round of room service.
When a knock at the door signaled that my food had arrived, I crawled out of bed and dashed to the door.
“Thank you…” The words died on my lips as I peered at Dane standing on the other side of the door, next to the attendant who’d brought my lunch. Dane wore a frown as his eyes trailed up and down my partially clad body. Forget that he looked good enough to be my lunch; I frowned too.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked. Neither of us paid attention to the attendant, who politely excused himself as he pushed the cart of food into my suite.
“I’ve been callin’ you all mornin’,” Dane drawled.
“Calling me? How the hell did you get my number?”
“You worried about the wrong shit, Justina. I’ve been callin’ you all mornin’. Why the fuck you ain’t answerin’ my calls?”
Confused about who Dane thought he was talking to, I glared at him. “Besides the fact that I never gave you my number, I don’t have to answer your calls, Dane. Who do you think you are?”
“Oh, you don’t have to answer my calls?” he questioned.
“No, I don’t,” I snapped.
Someone cleared their throat, grabbing my attention. The attendant smiled nervously and asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs. Richards?”
I balked at him. “Mrs. Richards?”
Looking uncomfortable, he glanced at Dane and chuckled nervously.
“She’s good, bruh. Skedaddle,” Dane ordered. The attendant did just that and scurried out of my suite.
“Dane!” I barked.
Unbothered, he glanced at me and said, “Go put some clothes on. We have plans.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and laughed humorlessly. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Go get dressed, baby,” he replied.
Hoping it would scare him off and send him running for the hills, I glared at him again. He chuckled and walked past me towards the bedroom.
“Dane,” I called to his back as I followed him. Inside the bedroom, he went into the walk-in closet and began rifling through my clothes. I stood at the door with my hands on my hips, watching this nigga go through my shit like he purchased any of it.
“This is perfect,” he mumbled while holding a green strapless maxi dress. “You showered this morning?”
“Dane?” I questioned him while snatching the dress from his hand. “Do you want me to call security?”
He didn’t care about shit I said as he picked out a pair of sandals for me to wear. Leaving the walk-in closet, he went to the drawer and opened the top one, where he retrieved a pair of lace panties for me.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I told him. “You’ve got five seconds to leave before I—”
“Shh…” Dane cut me off as his hands cupped my face. “Chill, baby. All I need you to do is put some clothes on and follow my lead. I’m tryna have you on my yacht by noontime, so I can eat some fruit off ya stomach.”
In an instant, my abdominal muscles contracted and quivered as if already feeling the glide of his tongue across my skin.
“Can I at least eat my lunch?” I requested as he pecked my lips.
“I’ll feed you on the boat,” he replied as his lips descended on mine again, canceling out any other protests dominating my brain.
Two hours later, I lay with my legs across Dane’s lap on the sundeck of a yacht so lovely its grandeur toppled any vessel I’d ever set foot on. The media hailed The Ma Donna as one of the swankiest yachts in entertainment.
As I lay there with my eyes closed, letting the sun caress my body, I fought the urge to giggle at Dane’s fingertips toying with my belly button.
I’d changed an hour ago, donning a purple bikini he so conveniently gifted me.
He was bare-chested, giving the sun something serious to love on.
I was careful not to allow my hands the pleasure of touching Dane.
My guard was already down, and the longer I lay there, the harder it was to fight the thumping between my thighs.
It didn’t help that Dane had the greatest R&B hits playing in the background.
“You really planned to hide from me?” Dane questioned.
My response wasn’t quick in coming because he lifted my leg to place a kiss on my knee. The sun’s heat couldn’t compete with the heat of Dane’s seduction.
“Yes,” I croaked truthfully. Meanwhile, I squirmed as he placed my leg back down but rested his hand over my thigh. His fingers trickled up my abdomen between my breasts, up past my lips, and to my forehead to brush my bangs off my forehead.
He chuckled sexily. “Open ya eyes, Justina.”
Reluctantly, I peeled my eyes open to find him staring at me with the corner of his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. His fingertips stroked one cheek and traveled to the next to do the same.
“You can’t run from me,” he said. “You can’t hide from me. You can’t even smile without me feelin’ like I’m the reason you did it.”
The tension between us intensified as we stared at each other. Dane’s eyes transformed in the sun, making them lighter even though the energy seeping through them was dark as hell. Then he cracked a smile that warmed everything inside me.
“Yesterday, I asked you about marriage,” he stated. “Let’s talk about it.”
“You really wanna talk about marriage?”
“I do,” he answered.
Sighing, I reflected on what my heart wanted.
Wanted was such a frivolous word. My heart desired to be loved and cherished by someone.
The type of man whose arms I could fall asleep in while embroiled in a shootout.
That was the type of safety he provided me.
He wasn’t just safe with my heart. He was safe with my body, my mind, and my soul.
“Marriage should be a union that protects every interest of your partner,” I finally uttered.
He smirked and replied, “I like that answer, Justina.”
Smiling at the cloudless sky, I said, “Tell me more about your mama.”
As Dane fell into an easy rhythm of talking about his mama, whom he loved without shame, I watched every emotion his face portrayed.
I decided that I could never get tired of listening to him talk about the woman who gave him life.
With my legs resting across his thick, muscled thighs, I wanted to stay here forever.
There could be someone off in the distance recording everything Dane and I were doing, but I didn’t give a damn. I was lost in the moments with him.
As the sun set, Dane ate that fruit off my belly button. Then, as if his lips against my skin meant nothing to him, he delivered me back to my suite like he didn’t create a need so deeply inside me that I wanted to chase him, cuff him to the bed, and warn him about teasing me.