Page 20 of The Millionaire Mortician

T wo days later, I sat on a large rock with my feet in the water, touching the pebbles beneath. It was early in the morning, so the breeze was nice and cool. The family decided to take Maverick and me to the river for a last-minute lime before our afternoon flight back to New York.

The scenery was calm and relaxing. The kids stripped down quickly and jumped into the water, while the uncles set up the stovetops for the ladies to cook.

Before we knew it, smoke was rising, accompanied by the scent of seasoning and pimento.

Music played from a speaker while laughter bounced off the water.

Plates of bake and saltfish were passed around with cold drinks in hand.

It was the kind of peace Brooklyn never offered.

Gazing into the water, I saw the tiny fish swimming around my feet. Out of nowhere, Aunt Patrice eased down next to me. She said nothing at first, just sat there with me, listening to the rush of the river.

“Yuh rell quiet, Milan,” she finally spoke with her eyes still looking at the water.

I nodded. “It’s been a lot on my mind.”

She gave me that look only an auntie could, that was half concern, half knowing. “Ah listening,” she pushed.

I exhaled and rubbed my hands together. “I’ma keep it real with you.

It’s been a lot. Between work, the streets, and my lady, I don’t even be having time for myself.

She wants more of me, but I don’t always have it to give.

It feels like I’m failing her. She deserves better. I don’t know,” I expressed.

My auntie was silent for a moment, then smiled faintly.

“Yuh know who else had that same problem? Ya fadda. He was always running, always busy, hustling for de family, trying tuh make sure everything was straight. Ya mudda used tuh get tired. It felt like she was raising you boys alone. Buh afta he noticed she started being distant, he changed his ways and learned tuh balance. He still had de weight on his back, buh he figured out how tuh be present too.”

Her hand tapped my knee, gently but firmly. “Yuh come from him, Milan. Doh think yuh can’t learn de same.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I thought about my father, who always made time to toss or kick a ball with us or sit at the table, no matter how late it got, to help with our homework.

I swallowed a lump that formed in my throat.. “Appreciate that, Auntie,” I spoke low. “I’ll... work on it.”

We sat quietly after that, taking in the nature around us and family.

By the time ten o’clock rolled in, the kids were tired out, bellies full, and the elders started packing up.

Mav and I hugged our people, promising them it wouldn’t be years before we came back again.

The fruit trees at the house, the laughter in the gallery, the river, and most of all, family, were all etched in me now.

Stephon drove us straight to Piarco International Airport from the river. We’d packed our things in the car before leaving the hotel, so that we could stay on schedule.

When we pulled up to departures, we got out and grabbed our things from the trunk and back seat. Maverick dapped Stephon up, then made his way inside while I lingered behind for a moment.

I looked Stephon dead in his eyes. “We gon’ make shit happen,” I assured him in a calm tone. “We’ll be back down real soon to organize everything. I just need to handle a few things in New York first.”

His grin spread wide with relief and hunger all at once. “Say less, cuz. I’ll be ready.”

“I hear you. Don’t make me regret my decision,” I sternly warned.

“You won’t,” he assured me as we dapped up.

I nodded, turned, and walked inside the airport. The weight of legacy, business, and love all pressed against me at once.

While in the check-in line, I shot both my security, Qua, and Don a text reminding them what time we were landing and to grab me some roses. As soon as I got back, I was going to put more energy into my woman, just as I did with everything else.

We landed back at JFK around six-thirty that evening. Since we had ridden first class, we were among the first to exit the plane and proceed through the immigration process, which went smoothly and quickly. We then made our way to baggage claim and customs.

Not long after, Maverick and I were walking out of the airport, inhaling the toxic, warm air of New York City.

Qua was already waiting curbside in the truck.

We quickly put our luggage in the truck and got in, since he was parked illegally.

As soon as I slid into the back, the smell of roses filled the car.

A bouquet sat in the passenger seat, just like I’d requested before we even boarded in Trinidad.

“Everything cool, boss?” Qua asked, pulling off into traffic.

I nodded. “We’ll drop him first,” I instructed.

The ride was quiet as both Maverick and I looked out the window at the concrete jungle we called home. It was a totally different world compared to Trinidad, and I almost instantly started missing the island breeze.

About an hour later, Qua pulled up to Mav’s spot, which wasn’t far from mine. We both lived in Brooklyn Heights.

Maverick dapped me up. “Keep it cool, meh G,” he stated, half warning, half blessing. Trinidad clearly rubbed off on him in terms of the terminology.

“Always,” I replied.

As soon as he was out, I told Qua to head over to Daija’s salon. At first, I was just going to wait until she came home to surprise her, since she didn’t know when I was getting back. However, something told me to be a little more spontaneous and pop up at her spot.

We rolled through Brooklyn streets, then over the Brooklyn Bridge until we pulled up in front of her shop. From the window, I saw it was busy with clients in chairs.

Qua handed me the roses as I was stepping out. Looking in the mirror, I smoothed out my shirt and sweats, then walked up to the front door. I was immediately buzzed inside.

Dai was at her station, finishing up with a client. When her eyes caught mine in the mirror, shock spread across her face, followed by a soft smile.

“Babyyy...” she sang with her voice lighter than her body language.

I approached her midway with the roses in hand. “Surprise, shorty. I’m home.”

Her girls and clients in the shop whispered, giggled, and gave me that look women always give when a man walks in with flowers. Daija took them from me and inhaled their scent. She then got on her tiptoes and pecked my lips.

“Thank you.” She smiled, but her eyes weren’t all the way there. I noticed her energy was a little off, but I didn’t press it.

I knew I had a lot of making up to do. Distance changed a lot of things, and I hadn’t been giving her too much of it.

“Wrap it up,” I told her in a steady voice, but leaving no room for debate. “You’re done for the day. We’re going to dinner.”

Daija blinked at me, then glanced at her client, then back at me. She wanted to argue. I could see it in the twitch of her lip, but she didn’t. She just nodded, told one of the other stylists to finish up, and went to her office to grab her things.

We hopped in her truck, with me behind the wheel and her in the passenger seat. As I pulled into traffic, Qua followed right behind as we made our way to the house.

By the time we left the house, night had already fallen.

Qua drove us to the restaurant. I was a little tired from traveling, and I knew she was working all day, so it was best for both of us to just relax as passengers.

I booked a nice spot in advance. It was a quiet, upscale restaurant with dim lighting and enough privacy for the kind of talk I knew we needed to have.

When we walked in, the host immediately recognized me and led us straight to a tucked-away table in the corner. Candles flickered while soft music spilled from the speakers.

Daija looked flawless, as always. Her hair was laid with her makeup nicely done. The black dress she wore hugged her in all the right places. The baby girl had a glow that drew eyes without her even trying. While I admired her, I couldn’t help but notice how quiet she was.

Shaking my thoughts, I focused my attention temporarily on the server to place our orders.

For the first half hour, it was an uncertain vibe.

There were small smiles, little laughs, and me asking about the salon.

I could feel the distance between us in the way her eyes slid off mine too quickly, and in the way she stirred her drink like it held answers.

I leaned forward, looking her in her eyes. “Daija,” I called her name in a low voice.

She looked up, blinking like I’d pulled her out of a daydream.

“We need to talk,” I started. My tone wasn’t the one I used with employees, nor was it the one I used on the streets. It was softer, laced with love.

Her lips parted like she was about to speak, but I kept going.

“I know I ain’t been making you a priority. With everything on my plate, I’ve been spreading myself thin, and I left you on the side more than I should have.” I paused, letting the words sink in. “That’s on me, not you.”

Her eyes softened, but she stayed quiet.

I took a slow breath. “I love you, Dai, more than you know. You’re the one steady thing I’ve got when everything else is constantly moving around me, and I know I ain’t showing you that appreciation enough.”

She dropped her gaze and blinked fast. “Milan...” she whispered.

I reached across the table and covered her hand with mine. “Shit’s gonna change. I just need you to bear with me. I can’t flip my world upside down overnight, but I can do better. I will do better. You’ve got my word.”

For a moment, silence sat between us, heavy but not uncomfortable. She squeezed my hand, finally meeting my eyes again.

“You don’t know how much I needed to hear that,” she started. “I’ve been feeling like... like I was losing you to everything else.”

I shook my head, slow and firm. “You ain’t losing me. You never will,” I assured her. “Just stay loyal, stay down, and I’ll have you forever.”

Dai’s smile this time wasn’t forced. The wall she’d been holding up cracked just enough for me to see through. She missed me, and that was understandable.

Dinner went on smoothly after that. Laughter slipped back in, and easy conversations flowed. For the first time in a long time, it felt like she and I were on the same page again. It was a good ass feeling.

As the night came to an end, we headed home hand in hand, with a better understanding and a deeper bond.

The moment we passed the threshold of our home, I grabbed Daija aggressively and pinned her up against the wall. As I hovered over her, I looked deep into her eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol getting to me or if I was just horny as fuck.

Our lips met as we passionately kissed. I felt her melting in my arms as our tongues got tangled.

“Let me taste you,” I whispered in her ear.

Her eyes had a sparkle in them as she nodded and smirked.

Picking Dai up off the ground, I took her into the dining room, where I pushed the plates out of the way with some crashing and breaking onto the floor, and laid her down.

Sitting on a chair, I pulled it up so my face was positioned between her legs.

In one swift motion, I pushed her dress up, slid her thong down, and tossed them across the room.

“Open for daddy,” I ordered.

Her legs opened wide as I saw her pink peek at me. Starting from the thighs, I kissed all over, teasing her before eventually licking her whole center in one motion. I then stuck my tongue in her hole and brought it back up to her clit.

“Milan,” she cried out.

“Mmmm.”

I continued to eat baby girl up the way she loved it. Right before she was about to cum, I stopped abruptly. Standing to my feet, I undid my slacks, dropping them and my draws at the same time. My dick was rock hard and didn’t need any foreplay. I was ready to feel her insides.

Without warning, I penetrated Daija deep, staying inside with no movement for a few seconds. Grabbing her neck with one hand and her waist with the other, I started to thrust in and out of her at a steady pace.

Not even a few strokes in, she came all over my dick, prompting me to pick up my pace. Slamming my way in and out repeatedly, Dai’s eyes rolled in the back of her head while her lips made an O shape.

Just when she was getting comfortable with the position, I pulled out and grabbed her ass off the table, turning her around. I pushed her chest against the table and rammed my way back inside her.

The sex was deep, rough, and passionate all at once. It was one of those make-up sex moments, although we weren’t really fighting. It was a message to let her know whose woman she was and who that pussy belonged to.

Fucking her like I never wanted to stop, I eventually was nearing my peak.

While I envisioned her on her knees and me cumming all over her face to watch her lick it up, I couldn’t control myself to do so.

I ended up spilling all my kids deep inside of her while we both moaned out in complete satisfaction.

“Fuck. That shit was good,” I spoke out of breath.

“It definitely was.”