Page 17 of This: Blake & Emon
“We will,” she said, her hands sliding up his chest as she danced and rapped the lyrics to the song in his face.
Want none of that cappin’ ‘bout booin’ up
See I know what it is, I know what it does
Looked in his eyes and asked him “What you tryna do?”, ooh-ooh
The liquor had her bold, but the way Emon looked down at her like she was everything had her feeling herself even more. His hands gripped her ass, pulling her closer. “Careful now. You playing with fire.”
Blake turned her back to him, rolling her body against his in a way that had nearby people stopping to watch. “Maybe I want to.”
“Nah, you trying to kill me or get fucked,” Emon groaned out, but his eyes were heated as they tracked her movements. He’d seen plenty of women dance before, but watching Blake let loose like this, trusting him enough to show this side of herself was doing something to him.
She spun around again, wrapping his arms around her before slowly grinding into him. Emon’s hand splayed across her stomach, holding her against him as they moved together.
“You know everybody watching you right now?” he whispered in her ear in disbelief that she was enjoying all eyes on her. He was turned on and she knew it.
Blake reached back to run her fingers through his beard. “Let them watch. I’m only dancing for you, though, just so we’re clear.”
Gah damn, he thought.
Chapter 9
The Next Day
Blake’s eyes hurt when she tried to open them. They were so dry from the smoke in the club and all the drinking she did last night. She tried again to open her eyes to find her phone to stop her alarm blaring mercilessly, but the pain was about to take her out. Rolling over, she felt satin against her skin, and fragments of last night began replaying in her mind. A smile spread across her face until she remembered getting Emon all worked up before becoming too drunk to follow through.
“It be like that,” she said to herself.
Sauntering into her master bathroom, Blake studied her reflection. Until Emon, she’d felt ordinary, beautiful but ordinary. He had a way of making her feel anything but. This duality of his, romantic and street, was exactly what she’d wanted but never found with any other man before him. PJ had no “fuck around and find out” energy, and Blake couldn’t settle for that anymore. She needed a man who had confidence. Who was so secure in himself that no one could tell him a damn thing.
“Alexa, play morning rise,” she instructed. As the worship music played, she stepped into the warm shower, but her thoughts were far from holy. Snippets of last night’s sins keptreplaying. She was lost in the way Emon watched her dance, how his hands felt on her waist. She switched the song quickly. The tension between them was building, and she knew it wasn’t just physical. But questions lingered. Was he deeper in the streets than he claimed? He said he wasn’t, but the way people showed him respect, how he moved like a lieutenant, had her unsure. She’d seen it all her life with her father and brother. The real question was, did she care?
After her shower, Blake hummed while moisturizing with her Pure Wonder Body Creme from Bath & Body Works. Checking her phone, she noticed she had six missed calls from Brooks, a few from her girls, and several texts from them both. She scrolled past them until a dark picture caught her eye. It was her body against Emon’s in the club. She bit her lip, feeling zero regret. Instead of dealing with her brother’s inevitable lecture, she called Emon to tell him thank you for a wonderful night and that she was sorry for getting too drunk. The phone rang and she could hear it from her living room.
Her eyes widened as she secured her robe and rushed out. There he was, sprawled on her couch, peacefully sleeping. The sight of him made her pause. Sweats and a wife beater rode up to show his tattooed stomach, looking like everything she’d been waiting for and dreaming of. Her baby loved a white tee, and she couldn’t lie, it looked good against his skin and littered arms.
“You just gon’ stand there staring all morning?” His voice was thick with sleep, eyes still closed.
“No. How long have you been here?”
“Since I carried your drunk ass inside last night. Wasn’t about to leave you alone like that.” He finally opened his eyes, taking in her robe and damp hair. Emon always kept a go bag in his cars in case something popped off. “You good?”
“Better than good.” She smiled, moving to perch on the edge of the couch. “But I don’t remember much after that last shot.”
“Trust me, I remember enough for both of us.” He smirked, pulling her down beside him. “You were putting on quite the show, baby.”
“Mhmm, and you loved every minute.”
“That I did.” His hand found her waist. “You got plans today?”
“Besides hiding from my brother and friends? Nah.” And she wasn’t hiding because of fear. She was hiding because she didn’t want to hear his mouth.
“Good. Let’s stay in. I’ll cook for you, we can watch movies, and maybe...” his lips found her neck, “finish what you started last night.”
“Oh, so this was your plan all along? Get me all comfortable and domestic?”
“Nah, baby. My plans for you go way beyond today, but this is a good start.”
