“Damn, baby, I like that you up front with yours. No games, waiting periods, or all that other bullshit,” Donovan replied, smiling like the Cheshire cat. “Hey, waitress, check please.” His next action puzzled her, because then he was like, “Yo, shorty, you got da check? I’ll get it back to you.” She wanted to see what he was working with physically, so she paid the check, but she swore that she wouldn’t ever do it again.
“Yeah, I’ll get it this time, but I never pay for dates, and I never will again.”
“Like I said, beautiful, I got you.” He shot her a smile that wet her panties.
Once they were back at Braylin’s apartment, Donovan made himself right at home.
“Hey, beautiful, do you mind if I work the stereo?” he asked.
“Sure, papi,” Bray answered, thinking, Forget the stereo, come work me.
When Donovan slipped on Jodeci’s “Freak-n-you,” she knew that it was about to be on. “Oh, Donovan, how did you know to pick out my favorite song?” she cooed.
“It was just a li’l something I thought you would like. Do you?” he asked with a sparkle in his eye.
“Almost as much as I like you, Donovan,” Braylin whispered as Donovan pulled her in for their first kiss. As his lips connected with hers, she could feel the passion ignite deep within her soul, and she knew that making love to him was something she needed. “Mmm . . . Donovan, damn, umm, wow.” How could he leave someone who was paid to talk for a living speechless? She pulled him closer into her personal space.
“Braylin, you taste so good, girl,” Donovan crooned in her ear as he began to kiss her neck and unzip her top to reveal her black lace see-through bra. “Mmm . . . see-through Vicky Secrets, my favorite.”
“If you like that, just wait and see what else I have for you tonight.” Braylin became bold and brazen. She normally wasn’t this up front, but she definitely enjoyed the feeling. She couldn’t believe that she was getting ready to make love to a man that she just met. She never did this, but everything about her was out of character tonight. Tonight, it was as if she was another woman, bold and confident, unlike her usually quiet and shy self.
Before she knew it, she was jumping up, answering the call of the dripping wet desire between her thighs, pulling her cat suit down, and stepping out of it. She stood over him, took his hand, and introduced Donovan to her love tunnel. The minute Donovan’s thick middle finger nestled inside her, she felt her knees weaken. Her breathing became labored, and it felt as if he had opened the flood gates.
“Donovan, not here. Let’s go to my room,” she moaned in between trying to catch her breath. But before she could move toward her room, he inserted another finger, and, as if they had a mind of their own, her sugar walls locked him in. “Oh, Donovan!” She was gripping his shoulders and grinding and rotating her thick, luscious hips to match the rhythm that his fingers were creating inside her pulsating core. Her nails were digging into his back through his shirt, and they both knew that she was coming.
It seemed as if he loved the feeling more than she did, and he looked up at her and said, “Please, baby, come for me.”
That was all Braylin needed to hear, because she pushed down harder on Donovan and happily complied. She was in complete bliss.
* * *
More than a year had gone by since that fateful night when Donovan first fulfilled all of Braylin’s lustful desires. The bliss that she once felt whenever she saw him or felt his touch was fading. She still loved him, but it wasn’t the same. The passion was long gone. Braylin wasn’t sure how to get it back, but she was tired of trying to make a relationship work by herself. The days got longer, the nights got lonelier, and Donovan would often be nowhere near when she needed him most.
The flowers and candy and “I love you” notes became no more than a distant memory. The moment he decided that he needed to live with her full time, everything that made her fall for Donovan stopped. He waited until after he had moved in to even tell her the truth about having six kids, and then his disrespectful baby mommas were calling all hours of the day and night . . . and their conversations never had anything to do with the children. He was always getting fired from his jobs, but none of this fazed Donovan.
All Braylin could think was, What in the hell have I gotten myself into? She was the loving woman who believed in doing anything she could for her man. She made sure his child support was paid up so that he wouldn’t end up in jail. She prayed that this would be enough to make him want to stay out of trouble, to hold down a job and do right by her, but sadly it only gave him an incentive to treat her worse.
I know he’s cheating on me. She forced herself to erase him from her thoughts. His drama was the last thing that was needed on her crowded plate. Between studying for her promotion and her current workload, she had more than enough going on in her life already.
She stood up and walked out of the employee’s lounge with her head held high. I’ll be damned if I let them two-faced heifers see me upset. Not me. Oh, hell no.
Braylin’s secretary buzzed her on the intercom. “Ms. Smith! You have a call on line one, and your two o’clock meeting is already here.”
“Who’s calling?” she asked her secretary.
“A Ms. Brown. She says she is looking to buy ad space.”
“Thank you, Juanita.”
Braylin picked up the phone. “This is Braylin.”
“Hi Braylin, this is Sonya Brown. How are you?”
“I’m fine. How can I help you?” She put her personal feelings aside and went into professional mode. A potential client didn’t need to hear any sadness in her voice. She did have bills to pay, after all, and worrying about a lying, no-good man was not going to get the job done.
“Can we meet tomorrow at three o’clock?”
“No, I’m booked up tomorrow. How is Tuesday, say, two o’clock?”
Ms. Brown answered without hesitation. “I’ll take it. I heard you were a beast with the ad sales.”
“Not to toot my own horn, but beep beep. You heard exactly right. I’ll see you Tuesday at two.”
“Thanks, Braylin.”
“Thank you. Bye-bye.”
She turned to see that her two o’clock appointment was none other than old, nosy, gossipin’ Ms. Grant. Shit, she had to be about eighty-something. Braylin pasted on her brightest smile and walked toward the old bird.
“Hello, Ms. Grant, how are you doing today?”
“Hmph, I’m all right, even though you ten minutes late fo’ our meeting.”
Now, this mean old bird knew that her meeting wasn’t until two o’clock, and it was only twenty minutes ’til two. She’d always been a well-paying client, so Braylin simply apologized.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Grant. I had to take care of some business in the back. Will you come with me, please?” Inside, she was asking God for patience, because she was two seconds away from snapping on somebody after dealing with Donovan’s lying ass. For a while she had thought that maybe Donovan was the one, but he was proving more and more that he was not.
As she finished up her meeting with Ms. Grant, she thought more and more about all the hurt that she had been through and grew more pissed off. But then again, she’d be damned if she let it show.
Braylin opened her laptop to document her meeting with Ms. Grant. Her cell phone vibrated, interrupted her concentration. She dug into her pocket to remove her phone. It was another text message from the trick who claimed to be Donovan’s newest baby momma.
The text read:
I love what you’ve done to the apartment. It’s really nice, and that leopard print and gold is the bomb.
Was that bitch in my house?
“I’ll be right back!” she yelled to no one in particular as she bolted out of the office.
“But what about your next client?” The question fell on deaf ears. She was already in her Audi SUV, hauling ass through a red light. When she arrived at her apartment complex, she raced up the stairs and kicked in the door.
“Donovan, bring your ass out here now. You and that bitch gon’ die today!” Braylin yelled as she ran from room to room. They were nowhere to be found.
Finally, she went into the bathroom. There was a note on the mirror written in red lipstick.
“‘Chyna was here,’” Braylin read aloud.
Tears welled in her eyes, and Braylin realized she’d had much more than she could take. She sat down on the side of the tub and cried until she was sick to her stomach and vomit spewed forward. Seeing the vomit on the floor smacked some sense into Braylin. She was not going to fall apart. After cleaning the offending vomit, she took her time, took a bubble bath, and pulled herself together. After all, she was Braylin, and she didn’t let shit like this hold her down.
She sat on the edge of her bed and called her best friend, Bronx.
“B! What are you doing?”
“Nothing much. What up doe, gurl?”
Braylin chuckled. Talking to her girl always tickled her. “Why don’t we hit the mall?”
“Sounds like a plan to me, bish.”
“Cool, see you in twenty.” Braylin hung up, glad to at least be getting out of the house. She got dressed, left her place, and headed over to Bronx’s apartment with her music blasting.
* * *
“Bronx, what am I going to do?” Braylin was walking through the mall with her best friend of more than ten years. They had been through a lot together, but usually it was Bronx seeking Braylin’s help, not the other way around. Braylin prided herself on always having it together.
“Cheat on his ass, girl, or kick him to the curb.”
Braylin hung her head. She knew that cheating wasn’t the answer, and kicking someone that you loved to the curb was much easier said than done. “Bronx, girl, you know that isn’t the answer. Seriously, what should I do about Donovan?”
“You really love him, don’t you, Braylin?”
“Yeah, I do.” Braylin looked like she wanted to cry.
Bronx began to feel terrible. Unbeknownst to Braylin, Bronx was seeing Donovan too. Bronx had dated her best friend’s boyfriends before, but she had never known Braylin to admit to loving someone. Bronx figured that Braylin never knew how to please her men in bed, so, she always helped her out. “Girl, he ain’t doing nothing but using you. Braylin, c’mon. You need cheering up and so do I. I hate to see my best friend hurting.”
“What good would that do, Bronx?”
“Let’s go get some ice cream, and then we’ll hit up that lingerie store you love so much.”
Braylin tried her best to smile. It was obvious to her that Bronx, who had never stayed with one man more than a month, didn’t have the answer . . . but at least her best friend tried to listen, and that was more than Donovan was willing to do for her lately.
“Hello, how may I help you?” the handsome server at Flavors Galore asked.
“Yeah, dude, let me get a rocky road waffle cone.”
Bronx can be so rude, Braylin thought.
The man glared at Bronx for a moment and then turned to Braylin. “And what would you like?”
“Hi, could I please have a strawberry cheesecake waffle cone?”
The server smiled at her then turned to fill the orders, grateful that she wasn’t rude like her friend. After handing them their cones, he gave them the total of their order. “That’ll be four dollars and seventy-five cents, please.”
“Four seventy-five for two ice cream cones! Y’all crazy if y’all think I’m paying almost five damn dollars for two ice cream cones.”
“Bronx, lower your voice. I got it. Damn.” Sometimes her friend could be so ghetto. Donovan had often told her she was a professional woman, and being friends with a “ghetto bird” like Bronx could quickly ruin her image. Not that Donovan was doing much with his life, but he was always critiquing her life, her job, and her friends.
“Here you go, sir. Keep the change.” Completely embarrassed, she handed the man six dollars, grabbed her friend by the arm, and proceeded to get as far away from the counter as possible.
In her attempt to get away from that end of the food court, she ran smack dab into a huge, firm, masculine chest—face first. As embarrassed as she was, she didn’t want to back away from the man’s chest; his smell was so intoxicating. Slowly he stepped back and lifted her head.
“Braylin, are you okay?”
She was wondering how the man knew her name, but then her eyes came into focus and she quickly realized that it was Donovan’s father, David.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Jones. This is my friend, Bronx. Bronx, this is Donovan’s dad.”
“Hello, Bronx, it’s nice meeting you,” David replied. He didn’t understand why Braylin was wasting her time on his unfaithful son, or why she was hanging out with a slutty thing like Bronx. He had seen Bronx strip at a variety of clubs, where he and his band had been the live musical entertainment for the evening. He also knew that she regularly propositioned several of his band members for sex. “Well, Braylin, I’ve got to get going, sweetie, but tell Donovan that I’ll give him a call later.”
“Take care, Mr. Jones.”
Why can’t Donovan be more like his father? Braylin wishfully thought.
“Y’all take care, and Braylin, please call me David. Mr. Jones was my father.”
Damn, what I wouldn’t give for a woman like her. Braylin is a beautiful young woman with a good head on her shoulders and a heart of gold. Donovan gonna keep playing and I’m gonna show him how to love a woman like her, he thought
Just as David walked away, Braylin’s business phone rang. “This is Braylin Smith.”
“Hello, Ms. Smith, this is Nayla Anderson, CEO of Curvalicious. I’ve heard a lot about you, and I’ve seen your ad campaigns. They are fabulous. I’d really love for you to come in and talk about becoming the head of advertising for my company. What are they paying you at Motherland?”
Braylin was stunned and at a complete loss for words.
Bronx noticed her friend was speechless and nudged her. “Bitch! If you don’t say something. Get that money!”
Well, that snapped Braylin out of her trance, and she prayed that Ms. Anderson hadn’t heard her. Nayla, trying to stifle her laughter, told Braylin that she’d heard Bronx loud and clear.
“Please excuse my loud and crazy friend, Ms. Anderson.” Braylin glared at Bronx. “I currently make ninety-five thousand a year.”
“Oh, honey, I can double that. Whatever you’d need.” Nayla was adamant about having the best team around her. “I know that you’ll need time to make a decision. Did my number show up in your phone?”
Braylin looked at her screen and then placed the phone back up to her ear. “Yes, Ms. Anderson, it did.”
“Okay, great. I hope to hear from you in a few weeks. Have a great day, Braylin!”
“Thanks, you too!”
One hundred and ninety thousand dollars . . . Braylin began to picture the possibilities of life with a salary like that as she hung up from the amazing phone call.
“What dey say, gurl?”
She’d temporarily forgotten that Bronx was even standing there.
“They want me to consider working for them instead of Motherland,” Braylin calmly responded. She knew that if she told her about who it was, or what they were willing to pay her, Bronx would want her to adopt her and her kids. She did a lot for them as it was. Braylin loved Bronx and her babies, no doubt about it, but sometimes she felt like a grandmother instead of a play auntie when it came to them.
Nayla
Nayla was settling back in her chair, satisfied with the call she’d just made to Braylin Smith. She knew that Braylin was a force to be reckoned with in the advertising industry, and she felt that together they could be an even stronger powerhouse. Next on her to-do list was to hire a secretary that she felt she could trust. She had several interviews in the morning, but in the mean time she wanted to get home and get her pussy ate. She knew that her husband, Randy, would be down for some sex. He always was
. Now, if only he supported her outside the bedroom, maybe they could have a great marriage.
Nayla knew when she married him she was just settling, but she didn’t have time to look for real love. She certainly did not have time to wait to be hunted when she met Randy. The business was just getting off the ground, and love just had to take a back seat to her career.
* * *
“Oh, shit!” Randy was opening up Pandora’s Box with his powerful tongue. All of Nayla’s juicy secrets were being licked away as he stroked her clit with his tongue and wrapped his lips around her lower set of lips. Who knew a little pink flap could bring such pleasure?
Her thick body tingled all over as his tongue tangoed with her clit. She had never had a seizure, but the way her body was shaking and saliva was pouring out of her mouth, she just knew that she was about to have one. Nayla was actually scared that she was about to bite her tongue off! That’s just how intense her much-needed orgasm was. She unloaded all her liquid ecstasy into Randy’s open, waiting mouth.
* * *
That was just the beginning, though. He flipped her over, smacked her plush, round ass, and rammed his eight inches inside her wet pussy. Nayla was ready and willing to wrap her lips around it, but it seemed that Randy wanted the hotness that only her pussy could deliver.
The man pumped hard and fast. His thrusts were quick and short. Nayla attempted to speak, but every word got caught in her throat as his nuts slapped her behind. Then Randy slowed down. The slower, longer thrusts felt so damn good to her that she started speaking in tongues. She didn’t know what the hell she was saying. Randy didn’t give a shit; he just kept on pumping, picking up the pace until the thrusts were short, quick, and hard again. Nayla felt his dick throbbing just before he screamed, releasing his white chocolate deep inside of her.
“Damn!” he said, almost out of breath. Damn, was right! Nayla’s husband knew how to make him some serious love. Once upon a time, she thanked God for Randy each and every day, because he had brought it each and every day. No man had ever eaten her pussy or penetrated her as well as Randy did. He always left Nayla satisfied.
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