Page 3

Present

I t was our last day in Aruba, and Olivia and I were posted up at the hotel casino.

The buzz of slot machines, laughter, and low conversation filled the air, mixing with the scent of cigars and tropical cologne.

But my eyes were on Olivia. Baby girl looked good sitting next to me in a black dress with her legs crossed, sipping something fruity like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Her short blond hair was done up in some type of mohawk.

With the tattoos and nose rings, she was giving off a sexy, edgy look but still classy.

Since the day after Boston and Denim tied the knot, the whole crew had scattered. Everybody started doing their own thing. The newlyweds? They dipped out of the reception like the last scene of a movie, and none of us had seen them since. And honestly, I wasn’t mad at all. That’s how it should be.

The casino wasn’t really my thing, but Olivia was enjoying herself.

We were at the Blackjack table, and my baby was up twenty grand.

She was on a roll and had the whole table hyping her.

She was talking slick whenever she racked up chips.

It felt like we were in our own little world—one where nothing else mattered but the right now.

But beneath the games and flirtation, I could feel that quiet heaviness neither of us wanted to name.

We both knew this little fantasy was coming to an end.

Planes were boarding tomorrow, and real life was waiting.

And even though we hadn’t talked about what came next, I already hated the idea of her walking away from me when we got back to reality.

“Blackjack!” the dealer announced again, pushing another stack of chips her way. Olivia threw her hands in the air and did a little shimmy. She reached out and raked in her winnings with a grin that told the whole room she was that girl tonight.

“Ayeee! I’m on a roll! Mama needs a new pair of red bottoms!” she said, glancing over at me. “See, Big Bo? You ain’t the only baller in the building!” She gave me a playful wink.

“Let me borrow five dollars, then?” I joked.

“What are you going to do for me?” She leaned over, her juicy breasts hanging out the front of her dress, staring me in the face.

“Let’s go up to our room,” I said lowly, licking my lips. “And I’ll show you… for free.”

She raised a brow, lips curving with mischief. “Mmm. Free might be a little too cheap, Big Bo. Are you sure you're worth more than a couple of red bottoms?”

“I’ll buy you a closet full of ’em… but tonight, I’ll let you test drive my goods.” Grabbing her hand, I placed it on my hard dick.

She laughed, biting her bottom lip. “You are so nasty!” She giggled, scooping up her chips. “Let’s cash out, then, because I’m trying to ride that dick on a handstand.”

The way said that shit so seriously and without no shame had me ready to take her ass down right here.Olivia didn’t care what came out of her mouth. Her free spirit personality is one of the things that attracted me to her.

I pushed back from the table, stretching my legs as Olivia casually scooped up her chips and dropped them into her purse with a happy dance. She’d cleared close to thirty grand tonight, and that wasn’t even counting the stack she pulled from a poker table earlier. She was on fire, and she knew it.

As she stood up, tugging at the hem of her dress, which hugged every inch of her body, I caught the way the men around the table were watching her. Hungry—these niggas looked starved, as if they were seeing something they’d never touch but still couldn’t look away from.

I stepped to her side, brushing my hand across the small of her back. Then I let it dip lower, fingers spreading as I gripped a handful of her thick, soft backside. I smirked, eyes scanning the faces of the men that she’d just cleaned out. Some with hurt pride and others impressed.

“You tryna start something?” She glanced up at me with that devious smile.

“Hell yeah! And I’m gonna finish that shit with my dick in them guts. Girl, you better stop playing with me.”

Her lips curved, slow and slick. “Mmm. Yesss! Threaten me with a good time!”

She turned toward the cashier, hips swaying with purpose, knowing full well I was watching that ass. Olivia was a little on the slim side but thick in all the right places.

The elevator ride was all heat and silence. She was standing in front of me, close enough for her scent to settle on my skin but far enough to keep me wanting more. She didn’t even look back. She just stood there calm and cool, knowing I was watching, knowing my dick was itching to be inside her.

By the time we hit the suite, it was well past midnight. I hit the keycard on the magnet, and the door unlocked with a soft click. Olivia pushed it open, stepping inside like she owned the whole damn hotel. I followed, closing the door behind me and flicking the lock into place.

“It feels good to get out of them shoes. They’re definitely made for sitting pretty.” She giggled, tossing her purse on the couch. She turned to face me, eyes shining, lips still curved in that smug little smile.

“You definitely made the shoes, baby.” I leaned in and stole a kiss, something I’d been doing all day.

I wrapped my hands around her and unzipped her dress, letting it pool at her feet.

“How about we shower and chill on the balcony for a bit? I want to smoke.” I pecked her lips a few times before leading her into the bedroom.

After we washed the day away, I grabbed a cigar and stepped out onto the balcony while Olivia disappeared into the bathroom to do her little skin shit she swore by every night.

As I sat on the balcony smoking my cigar, my mind drifted to my mother. I thought about how she would’ve loved Aruba. The breeze and the quiet. All that beauty? Yeah, Ma would’ve been out here barefoot in the sand, drink in hand, taking it all in like she was born for this life.

I took another pull from the cigar, letting the smoke sit in my lungs before exhaling slowly.

Another piece of guilt that gnawed at my heart is that my mother never got the chance to travel.

She never got to experience shit like this.

She’d always talked about it, though. She said one day, she’d see the world.

Paris, Morocco, Aruba; she’d name the places like she was ordering off a menu.

I leaned back against the chair, my mind drifting to my past, and allowed the silence to settle around me.

I turned my head just in time to see Olivia step out onto the balcony, the sheer white robe clinging to her frame.

The moonlight caught the soft glow against her thighs, the robe parting just enough to tease the curve of her leg with each step.

Olivia didn’t waste any time dropping to her knees in front of me and whipping my dick out of my boxers. I was already hard in her hands, ready for what I knew was about to be some sloppy head. I’d already dropped my cigar in the ashtray.

Without a word, she spit on the tip and swallowed me whole, her eyes locked on mine the entire time.

She moved slow, deliberately, her lips gliding down my length while her spit pooled at the base.

Her jaw pulled me in like she was trying to own me, and I grunted, nostrils flared, fighting the urge to lose it too soon.

“Damn, O. Fuck!” I leaned my head back, staring up at the damn stars like they could help me hold it together.

She started stroking me while her mouth worked the tip.

She knew that combo drove me wild. I looked down just in time to catch her deep-throating me again, one hand between her legs, playing with her pussy like she was trying to match my rhythm.

Her spit coated her chin, dripping slow, messy, nasty, and sexy as hell.

She pulled back when she felt me twitch, knowing I was close.

Standing, she untied her ribbed robe and let it hit the floor.

Just like she said she would, Olivia bent over and kicked into a handstand, her back against the wall.

I moved fast, grabbing her by the waist and bringing her pussy to my face, my dick already meeting her lips.

I dove in, tongue spreading her open, sucking her clit into my mouth while she sucked me back into hers. I needed to make her come quick—before all the blood rushed to her head and she passed out on me. I ain’t trying to have her dying with my dick in her mouth.

I circled her hole before dipping my tongue inside, then moving my head from side to side. Her juices poured out, and I sucked that shit up like gravy with a biscuit. The way she was moaning and how her clit was swelling in my mouth, I knew she was about to let that shit go.

“Shit, baby! Suck that pussy. I’m about to come all in your mouth.” Olivia popped her shit as she pushed her pussy in my face. “Sssss…” she hissed when I moved to her asshole and began eating it like it was my last meal.

Her cream tasted so fucking sweet, and I couldn’t get enough.

I felt like a bitch the way I was moaning as I munched on her.

The more she sucked on my dick, the harder I went in on her box.

I began fucking her mouth, and my nut was approaching fast. I felt her jaws tighten around my shit, but she pulled back.

“Eat that dick up, O. Stop playing with me…” I gritted as I went back to sucking the soul out of her pussy. A few seconds later, we both were coming.

With her still in the same position, I let her legs down and bent her over in front of me.

“Touch them muthafuckin’ toes, O, and you better not fall,” I warned and grabbed a gold wrapper off the table, and she sheathed my dick.

“You better bounce on this dick,” I growled, slapped her ass, and slid inside of her.

My dick was still hard like I ain’t just dump a bunch of my kids down her throat.

“Oh, God, Bo! Yes! Go deeper, baby. I want to feel you in my throat!” she yelled as I gripped her waist and fucked the shit out of her as she asked. The more I moved inside of her, the wetter and tighter her pussy got. I would have sworn she was a virgin if this was the first time we fucked.

I bit down on my lip as I watched my dick disappear and reappear, covered in her essence. Olivia’s shit had to be laced with some dope because it took all the strength I had not to bust quickly. A nigga was moaning like a bitch, and I didn’t give a fuck at this point.

I sat her up, never missing a beat with my stroke game. With her back to me, her head back on my shoulder, I dipped low and dug in deep. She took everything I was offering as I held her by the neck. My other hand went between her legs, instantly finding her clit.

“Bo! Wait!” she screamed as tears rolled down her cheeks and she started squirting. I pulled out but tapped on her clit, and more liquid shot out of her like a broken water pipe.

“That’s right. Let that shit go, baby!” I commanded in her ear and pushed back inside of her. Without detaching from her folds, I sat down in the chair. She lazily began to bounce in my lap. I knew that nut had her weak, but I needed one more nut from her.

“Nah. Move that ass, O. Make your dick come, baby.” I bit down on her neck as I fucked her hard from the bottom. She began circling her hips before hopping on my dick like it was a Pogo stick.

“Bo, you feel so good inside me, baby. You are so big. I love the way you stretch this pussy,” she said, praising me through her horse voice.

“Yeah, and you take this big mothafucka so well, O. I love that shit for the both of us, baby.”

She leaned back, and we shared a sloppy kiss as she continued to ride me until we both released again.

We sat there, getting our breathing under control before I helped Olivia to her feet.

That’s when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

I turned, and there stood the couple in the suite next to ours, standing out on their balcony with wine glasses in hand, watching us like we were the damn entertainment.

I didn’t know how long they’d been there.

But when they started clapping like they’d just witnessed the finale of a Vegas show, I had my answer.

I looked at Olivia, waiting to see if she’d shrink back or get embarrassed.

This crazy-ass girl smirked and dropped into a dramatic curtsy like she was taking a bow before switching her fine ass into the suite.

I couldn’t do shit but chuckle. This girl was a damn trip.

For the rest of the night, we fucked all over the presidential suite.

We didn’t lay our asses down to sleep until the sun was peeking into the room.

But what I wasn’t expecting was waking up to a fucking Dear John letter from Olivia on the pillow where she was supposed to be knocked out in a dick coma.

Bo,

This weekend was everything I needed… and maybe everything I shouldn’t have had.

You have been the calm to the storm I don’t want to admit I’m still standing in.

And being with you this past year has been nothing short of amazing.

It lets me know that there are some good men out here.

You made me forget my troubles, if only for a moment.

But the truth is, I’ve got some shit in my life I need to handle.

And I can’t do that wrapped up in something that feels this good and might be blinding me from what I need to do.

This isn’t goodbye forever. I just know I need space.

Please don’t hate me for slipping out without saying this to your face.

I wouldn’t have been able to leave if I did. Please don’t hate me.

—Olivia