Chapter 17 #2
Emon smirked, watching her move her hips to the music.
He was looking just as good in his Off-White fit, another surprise from Blake.
She had him out here fresh as hell, moving like a boss effortlessly.
They were easily the best dressed couple in the building, though neither of them usually chased attention.
Tonight was different.
Tonight was special.
It needed to be a night to remember for both of them. Life was about making memories, and she didn’t want to make them with anyone but him.
The bass hit deep as Moneybagg Yo’s “Do Yo Shit” blared through the speakers. The crowd went crazy, the whole club shaking with energy, and Blake rapped along like the lyrics were hers.
AP lit (Rocks and rifts), ah, ah, water wrist, ah, ah (Ah, yeah)
Froze kit (Got some paper), ah, ah, rose wrist, ah, ah (Ah, yeah, rose wrist)
“Do yo’ shit baby,” Emon encouraged.
This was her shit. He liked all the ratchet that came from her sometimes.
Blake was the best of both worlds. Smart and educated, but a party girl at heart.
Emon had only seen her like this a few times.
Tonight, she was all the way present. No stress, no distractions. Just them, the music, and the energy.
“And will,” she screamed, still rapping.
“You really pulled all this off,” he said, his hand finding the small of her back as they were led to their private booth.
“You act surprised.” She looked up at him with that smile that still made his heart skip. “I told you I pay attention. Plus,” she gestured to the intimate setting, “you always making sure I’m treated like a queen. Let me treat you for once.”
The booth was decked out with bottles chilling in ice, plush seating that felt like a luxury, and just enough distance from the crowd to feel exclusive but still soak in the energy of the night.
Emon poured them both a drink, the amber liquid catching the light as he handed her a glass. “To you, for making this night un-fucking-forgettable.”
The beat dropped again, and the crowd erupted, but for Emon and Blake, the rest of the club faded away. It was just them, their shared glances, the brush of their fingers, the silent conversations spoken through smiles and smirks.
As Payroll launched into “Started Small Time,” the lyrics echoed in Emon’s head, a reminder of just how far he’d come. From hustling in the trenches to making moves that had them living on their own terms.
Blake leaned into him, her body warm and soft against his, the smell of her perfume cutting through the haze of smoke and alcohol.
“You good?” she asked, her voice low, meant only for him.
Emon wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Better than good. Perfect.”
Her eyes softened, a rare vulnerability slipping through her confident exterior. “Good. I want you to know I got you...always.”
“And I got you,” he promised, sealing it with a slow, deliberate kiss that made the room blur around them.
The night was just getting started, but at that moment, it felt like they’d already found what they were looking for. Connection. Celebration. A reminder that through it all, they had each other, and that was worth more than all the riches in the room.
The way Blake moved against him had him thinking about that suite waiting upstairs. For now, he was content just watching her enjoy herself, knowing she’d done all this just for him.
“Thank you,” he said softly in her ear. He was overcome with gratitude and wanted to tell her every time it crossed his mind. He knew he was probably getting on her nerves, but this was new for him.
“For what?”
“For making me celebrate. For being you. For everything.”
Blake smiled, proud of herself. They continued to vibe and indulge. The day had been perfect so far, and she hoped it would continue.
The bass thumped through the venue as Payroll performed “Stack Season,” Emon rapping every word behind Versace shades while Blake watched him, loving how relaxed and happy he looked.
Between songs, Emon pulled her closer. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I ain’t never had nobody do nothing like this for me before.”
Blake turned in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. “You ain’t never had a me either. So get used to it. This is how we doing it from now on. Big for the biggest!”
His hands found her waist as they swayed together, the music and the crowd fading into background noise. “I love you,” he said, not for the first time, but something about tonight made the words feel different.
“I love you more.”
“Not possible.” His lips found that spot on her neck that always made her shiver. “But you can try to prove it when this shit is over and we get back to the suite.”
“Who says we gotta wait that long?”
Emon looked at her, eyes dark with something deeper than just desire, and Blake grabbed his hand, leading the way.
The elevator ride to their suite felt like a scene straight out of a movie.
A different kind, though. The kind that had a few X’s after it.
The moment the doors slid shut behind them, Emon had her pressed against the wall, hands sliding up her thighs, lips trailing over her jawline, her neck, and collarbone.
“You been teasing me all night,” he murmured against her skin, his breath warm, his grip firm.
Blake smirked, her fingers slipping beneath his shirt, nails dragging just enough to make him shiver. “Had to make sure you were enjoying your birthday.” She bit her lip, letting her hands roam. “Was it worth the wait?”
Instead of answering, he grabbed her, lifting her effortlessly over his shoulder.
She shrieked, laughing as she kicked off her heels, smacking his back playfully. “Emon, put me down!”
“Not yet,” he said, his voice full of mischief.
He carried her straight to the private balcony, stepping onto the terrace where the city stretched out below them. The skyline glowed, the streets buzzing with life, but up here? It was just them.
Emon set her down gently, his gaze sweeping over the setup she had arranged. The chilled champagne waiting in a silver bucket, the rose petals scattered beneath their feet, the warm September breeze wrapping around them like silk. She had thought of everything.
He exhaled, shaking his head. “You really went all out.”
Blake pulled him closer by the waistband of his pants, her lips just a breath away from his. “I did. You enjoy your night?”
He looked at her, drinking in every detail. The way her dress clung to her curves, the way her eyes shimmered under the soft glow of the candles, the way she knew she had him wrapped around her damn finger, it all drove him crazy… 5150.
The kind of crazy where logic didn’t matter.
Where he’d risk it all just to keep her close.
Where every breath she took, every curve of her body, every sly little smirk she threw his way, made him want to lose his mind over her.
The kind of crazy that would have him ready to crash out for any inconvenience that came her way.
“I enjoyed my entire day,” he said, his voice thick. “My mind is blown.”
“Well, that’s all that matters to me.”
Their mouths crashed together, the last bit of restraint between them disappearing. The kisses turned messy and needy. All tongue and heat. Months of living together had taught them exactly how to unravel each other, and tonight, they weren’t holding back.
His fingers found the zipper of her dress, slow but deliberate, while hers explored the hard planes of his back, gripping, pulling, teasing. His hands traced every curve, like he was memorizing her all over again, like she wasn’t already burned into his soul.
Blake arched against him when his lips found that spot on her neck, the one that always had her legs shaking.
“The things you do to me,” she whispered, her voice breathless, her nails digging into his skin.
Emon groaned, his fingers slipping lower, finding her already ready for him. “The things I’m about to do to you,” he promised, his voice rough, his control slipping like a transmission on a Nissan Altima.
She barely had time to respond before his touch stole the words right out of her mouth.
“Damn, Blake the Lake,” he muttered, making her giggle between gasps.
“It’s your birthday,” she managed, her words breaking into a moan as he took his time, savoring every reaction, every shiver.
Emon cupped her face, his thumb tracing slow circles over her cheek as he tilted her chin up.
“You know what you do to me, don’t you?” His voice was thick, rough, like he was barely holding himself together.
Blake bit her lip, that damn knowing look in her eyes. “Maybe.”
He exhaled a slow, shaky breath. “Nah… you know.”
She let her fingers drift over his chest, down his stomach, playing in the belt loops of his jeans. “If I drive you so crazy,” she teased, leaning in so her lips just barely brushed his, “what you gon’ do about it?”
Emon didn’t answer—not with words. By the time he laid her down against the cool sheets, both of them breathless and desperate, he already knew—
He was gone over her.
He slid inside of his safe haven with ease and went to work. Blake moaned into his mouth, pressing closer, making him damn near feral with how soft she was, how right she felt in his hands.
Every kiss, every touch, every breath felt heightened by the night air, by the way their bodies fit together like they had been made just for each other. The stars twinkled above them, the city humming below, but all that mattered was this. The way he loved her, and the way she loved him back.
The day had been perfect.
And so had the night.
“Happy Birthday, baby.”