Page 36 of This: Blake & Emon

“How good?” he asked, looking down and back up to her. Blake smirked before bending over and throwing her ass in a circle, giving him a show. Emon came closer and grabbed a handful of her soft ass and squeezed.

“You wild, but save that for tonight. I’m tryna knock yo’ walls loose tonight.”

“Promise?” she asked.

“Man, come on. You know I don’t say shit I don’t mean. Now, gimme a kiss so I can get going and back on time.”

Emon kissed his woman goodbye and headed into town.

An hour later, he was settled behind his desk in the carwash, reviewing paperwork, when his front desk employee told him he had a delivery at the counter.

A card and another large box were waiting for him. The moment he opened the card, Payroll Giovanni’s “Rich Nigga Vibes” started playing from the built-in speaker. He’d never seen anything like this before.

I know you said not to make a fuss about today, but IDK. My baby needed something fly - Your Blake

Emon opened the box and revealed custom Louis Vuitton luggage. He stood there shaking his head, grinning like a fool. His girl was something else. The fact that she even knew Payroll was his favorite showed she’d been paying attention, but he didn’t know what the luggage meant.

His phone buzzed again.

Blake:Hope you don’t mind a little road trip, sponsored by me!

He fumbled around inside the box and found the confirmation for The Vue Lux hotel in Millbrook, about two hours away, and VIP passes for Payroll Giovanni’s concert at The Vue Nightclub. His mind was blown. He couldn’t wait to see her later. It was time to turn up.

#

The Vue Nightclub looked like something out of a movie, with bottles popping, sparklers lighting up the VIP sections, and clouds of smoke curling in the air. Money, power, and respect had descended on one place for the night. The whole building dripped in wealth, ambition, and influence. Rich niggas, bad bitches, and everybody moving like they had it. Because they did. Payroll Giovanni had brought out the city’s finest. Hustlers, shot-callers, and the women who loved them. The energy was undeniable. This wasn’t just a party; it was a statement. If you were here, you were somebody.

Emon wasn’t paying attention to any of it. The opulence didn’t matter to him. The niggas didn’t matter to him, nor did the women.

His eyes were locked on Blake.

She was giving everything in a fitted, sheer, off-the-shoulder black dress that hugged every inch of her body like it had been made just for her. Her hair was parted down the middle, allowing big curls to cascade around her flawless face, and her heels gave her just enough lift to make that already perfect ass sit a little higher. She was moving like she knew every eye in the room was on her, but she wasn’t here for them.

She was here for him.

And he was damn sure here for her.

Blake thee Baddest had shown up tonight, and she was here to turn up with her man.

Emon smirked, watching her move her hips to the music. He was looking just as good in his Off-White fit, another surprise from Blake. She had him out here fresh as hell, moving like a boss effortlessly. They were easily the best dressed couple in the building, though neither of them usually chased attention.

Tonight was different.

Tonight was special.

It needed to be a night to remember for both of them. Life was about making memories, and she didn’t want to make them with anyone but him.

The bass hit deep as Moneybagg Yo’s “Do Yo Shit” blared through the speakers. The crowd went crazy, the whole club shaking with energy, and Blake rapped along like the lyrics were hers.

AP lit (Rocks and rifts), ah, ah, water wrist, ah, ah (Ah, yeah)

Froze kit (Got some paper), ah, ah, rose wrist, ah, ah (Ah, yeah, rose wrist)

“Do yo’ shit baby,” Emon encouraged.

This was her shit. He liked all the ratchet that came from her sometimes. Blake was the best of both worlds. Smart and educated, but a party girl at heart. Emon had only seen her like this a few times. Tonight, she was all the way present. No stress, no distractions. Just them, the music, and the energy.

“And will,” she screamed, still rapping.

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