Page 116 of Falling Into Gravity

Niah didn’t ask questions. She tapped the screen, andAin’t No Waystarted over—strings swelling, Aretha’s voice whispering like a storm just getting started.

Then he turned to Aku.

“You got two minutes,” he muttered, voice hot with something only she understood.

She grabbed his wrist before he could say more and pulled him into the private bathroom.

The second the door shut, he had her pressed against it.

“You really got me walkin’ into that?” he growled against her neck.

Aku gasped, breath hitching as his hand slid up her thigh and gripped. “I told you?—”

“You was smilin’ at that nigga.”

“I always smile when my invoices hit six figures.”

“You wasn’t smilin’ like that for me.”

She arched her brow. “You jealous?”

“Nah,” Malik murmured, tugging her straps off her shoulder to bare skin. “I’m territorial - big difference.”

He sucked slow at the space where her neck met her collarbone. No finesse, no filter—just hunger. His mouth dragged open kisses across her skin like he was painting her with ownership. She moaned, fingers tangling in his denim shirt as he lifted her up, setting her on the counter without warning. Her legs instinctually wrapped around his waist.

“Say it,” he rasped, biting her earlobe. “Say you mine.”

“You know I am,” she whispered.

He kissed her harder…rougher.

One hand cupped the back of her neck while the other slid down to grip her thigh and pull it open wider. The bathroom light caught the gleam in his eye as he locked onto hers.

“Ain’t no way he ever touched you like I do,” he muttered, hot breath against her cheek.

“He didn’t.”

“Good.”

His hand slipped beneath the fabric of her jumper, pulling it down and dragging her closer. Every movement staked his claim. Every breath sounded like worship wrapped in a growl.

Aku’s head tilted back, her voice trembling as she spoke. “This your last chance, Malik.”

He froze just long enough to hear it.

“If you ‘bout to be mad and ruin my place of business, let me know now ‘cause I ain’t with all that. He’s a client,” she said.

He blinked, then leaned in close—lips brushing hers, slow and reverent.

“You think I don’t know that? I ain’t trippin’ cuh.”

She stared into him like she could see the boy he used to be, the man he was becoming.

Then his hand slipped down again, and she gasped.

The kind of gasp that hitched halfway out her throat and left her dizzy.

He smirked, kissing the corner of her mouth as he whispered, “You gon’ leave this bathroom smellin’ like me…lookin’ like me…thinkin’ about me.”

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