Page 22 of In Too Deep

Cutting my eyes at him, in warp speed, I emptied the wine glass. The bitter taste was tart, so I slapped my tongue against the roof of my mouth a few times before answering.

“The winner gets to decide.”

“Only one condition.” He smiled, that panty wetting grill getting the best of me, and held up one finger. “I want you to cook naked.”

I guffawed, my eyes damn near bulging out of my head. “Wait, w-what?”

“I want that pussy and asshole winking at me every time you bend over. That fat ass booty need to be jiggling too. When I brush past you to rub my dick up against it, I want you to spread your ass cheeks apart and place my big ass dick in that tight, wet ass pussy.”

“And what do I get upfront? I think your request sounds more like a winner grant. You’ll be too distracted watching my jiggling ass and pretty pussy saunter around to focus on cooking your dish, beating me. I need something in return.”

Placing my hands on the sides of the foldable table, I pushed it aside and stood up.

My hands clasped around the bottom of my shirt, lifting over my belly that was tucked inside my black tights.

I dipped my head, lifting it above my curly hair, hands grazing over my cold pebbled nipples.

The cool air wafting from the AC sent chills up my spine, or maybe it was the lust filled stare Romelo was giving me.

His eyes gazing over my frame as if he had room in his stomach to feast off me, aside from the salmon and side dishes he prepared.

The sensation of electricity shot through me as my nipples hardened, signaling a need for tending and soothing.

I dropped the shirt at my feet, then slowly pulled my flare leggings down.

The back of my thumbs touched my smooth skin, running them down my thighs.

My strawberry legs were nice and moisturized.

I bent down further, taking my eyes away from Romelo’s, to step out of my leggings.

My toes wiggled under the thin thread. His wish was granted, without a win.

I stood in front of him, in all of my naked glory, my skin jiggling with each move I made.

My clit began to thump, sensing the tongue she’d become acquainted with a while ago.

It was like Romelo’s tongue had a sensor on it, and my clit detected it.

I could feel my pussy leaking juice, seeping down my thighs.

“Go in the kitchen,” he nodded, his eyes flickering to the warm glow emanating from the entryway.

Obeying, I sauntered into the kitchen. My booty jiggling as I swayed my hips from side to side.

The sound of his Prada sneakers slapping against the ground pounded heavily behind me, just inches away.

Reaching the island, I stopped and leaned against it, wincing from the cool tile.

My hair flipped down the right side of my face as I crooked my neck and rested the side of my face in my palm.

Romelo leaned against the entryway, folding his arms over his chest and spreading his legs apart.

The black skinny jeans he wore showcased his meaty dick, mimicking a third leg between his bony thighs.

“Go ‘head and show out for me,” he smirked, cocking his chin and tilting his head to the side. “Whip up that good shit. I got room for a steak, medium well, with a side of gushy pussy to sip juice from when I get thirsty.”

“Coming right up,” I nodded and turned on my heels. “Steak is light work, by the way.”

“Just make sure you cook my shit right.”

It wasn’t long before I started moving like a pro around the kitchen, getting familiar with everything.

I noticed he had knives and forks here too, but I didn’t mention it.

Nervousness didn’t play a factor while cooking naked, making me think about the glass of wine having a huge impact.

While sauntering around the kitchen, I felt his eyes imposing like a magnifying glass, getting visuals of the dents in my ass when I walked, the secretions my pussy was making unreserved, and anything I may have been insecure about or hadn’t paid attention to.

“It’s starting to smell good,” he called out from behind me.

I jolted my head in his direction, giving him a closed lip smile as I stood in front of the stove, the steak sizzling in the cast iron skillet.

“That skillet ain’t dry either. I paid attention to that shit too.

I’ll fuck around and make you wifey, spoiling me and shit like this, Juicy. ”

He was sitting on a bar stool, slowly swiveling it side to side, clutching his phone in his hand, looking every bit of fine, mixed with bad decisions.

“So, from the looks of it, the way to a man’s heart is your cooking. I guess it’s true what they say then.”

I stepped back and winced when the sizzle from the pan spurted on my nipple.

“Partially, it depends on the man. Niggas who say shit like that can’t cook, so they depend on their women to do it for them.

I’ ain’t gon’ starve waiting on a bitch to feed me.

My mama taught us how to cook at an early age, and she didn’t play that lazy shit either.

We took turns setting the table and washing dishes after dinner. ”

“We,” I inquired, wanting to indulge in his world and become one within his orbit.

“Yeah,” he nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips. “I have two other brothers. I’m the middle child. Roxx is the oldest, and Reese is the youngest.”

“Roxx…Roxx…Roxx,” I tapped the knife against the countertop as I thought deeply. “That name sounds familiar, almost as if I’ve seen it before.”

“RoxxGuard, the cybersecurity system,” he spoke up, causing me to stab my finger in the air because he hit it on the nail.

“He has one of the best, if not the best security systems ever fuckin’ created.

That nigga is a fuckin’ billionaire. He was posted in Forbes just last month,” he grinned, looking like a proud father.

“They use his security system in stores like Walmart, shit, in the jail houses too. He was on to something when he created that.”

“What made you get into selling cellphones or wanting a company?” I asked, momentarily turning away from him to flip the steak on the other side.

“I’ve always thought of ways to make money.

It was a good investment and one that’s rare for a black man.

It’s a slight disadvantage because of my skin color, but once I learned the ins and outs of making Telo Wireless successful, I took off like a fucking rocket.

I ain’t never been a lazy ass nigga, waiting on handout or being one to watch the next nigga eat.

I got it out the mud on my own and made a name for myself.

I come from long money, so it’s embedded in my DNA,” he boasted.

“That’s funny because Trecee made it seem like you sold drugs.”

“Only because she ain’t used to shit else—not saying that I didn’t, but by the time I met her, Telo Wireless was locally known. Your cousin has a turkey for a fucking brain and says shit that sounds good,” he responded.

“I concur,” I giggled.

“Enough about me though,” he smirked and stood. His shoes pattered against the PVC as he strolled on those bowed legs, then paused as he leaned on the island. “I want to know more about you.”

“You know enough,” I shrugged. “There’s nothing I have to tell.”

“I know you have a juicy ass pussy that tastes like water with an asshole that tastes like peaches. You’re a thief too, love. That’s not a good look on your resumé.”

Turning around on my heels, I pointed the fork at him, stabbing it in the air again. “First off, don’t go there.”

“Then tell me some shit I don’t know.”

I scoffed, taking a deep breath before responding.

“I used to want to go to nursing school, until I failed the test at TTEC twice. I have some college experience. I went to TSU during the fall, taking college courses, wanting to indulge in the semi college life so I could beat statistics, but I kept flunking and ended up dropping out. My dad killed my mama when I was ten. I don’t know who my father is—never met him.

Yolanda, my auntie, Trecee’s mama, had to take me in.

We grew up in the projects, on welfare and WIC.

I’m an average girl, Romelo, with dreams of getting out of the hood.

Yolanda kicked me out at eighteen years old, and I been on my own ever since. ”

He gave me a closed mouth chuckle. “What’s funny?”

“You. It’s always been you. I admire women like you—the kind who don’t depend on a nigga for nothing.

I ain’t used to shit like that because I’m used to bitches holding their hand out.

That’s why I respect your hustle, Juicy.

I want to take the stress off. You take care of me, in exchange for me taking care of you. ”

Turning away from him, I flipped the steak.

It was done, so I turned the oven down and let it simmer.

While doing so, I felt a pair of arms slither around my body, sending shivers down my spine.

Romelo’s cologne wafted through the air, over the scent of seasoned meat and herbs.

His fingertips brushed against my skin, making me close my eyes at the feeling.

“I wouldn’t leave you hanging, just let me show you what you deserve,” he whispered in my ear, his warm breath cloaking my ear. “I’ll be your fucking sponsor, baby, just me,” he uttered desperately in a raspy tone.

“Romelo,” I gasped, feeling his lips kiss my back, down my spine, slowly. “You know what you have already, and we can’t take this too far.”

He stopped, sucking his teeth.

“And if it do?” he muttered and continued kissing my back. “Let me do the legwork. Juicy, you’re so fuckin’ stubborn, I swear.”

“Can you blame me though?”