Page 3 of Surrender Your Heart
HONEY
Ij u m p e du pat 6:13 a.m., dripping in sweat and soaked between my thighs.Again.I squeezed my legs together and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling and breathing heavily.
“Girl…” I muttered to myself, dragging a hand down my face. “You got it bad.”
By the time my alarm buzzed at 7:30 a.m., I was already in the kitchen drinking lemon water and blasting Ari Lennox while pacing barefoot across my hardwood floors. I had a full workday ahead of me. Orders, inventory check-ins, a local magazine feature coming to do a spotlight, and Tyrae was off today, leaving me to juggle all the hats. I needed to focus, but the emailI opened last night was still there. Legend wasn’t asking me to come; it was more like he demanded it. Expected it.
“When I send for you, you cum. Get outta that pretty little head of yours. I’ll see you soon.”I bit my lip and then snapped out of it before I started acting out again.
By 10 a.m., I was driving to the store with Tyrae on FaceTime as she walked into her doctor’s office. “Girl, I know you keep checking your phone like he gon’ jump out the screen and fuck you on the register,” she said, grinning while sipping her iced coffee.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Shut up and worry about yourself.”
She smirked. “So we not talking about the email?”
“Nope.”
“You opened it twelve times.”
“I should block your nosey ass.”
She laughed and then lowered her voice. “But for real though. Why haven’t you accepted his invitation yet?”
I exhaled through my nose. “I don’t know, Ty. Maybe I’m scared.”
“Of what? His dick? ’Cause I would be too.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I!” We both cracked up, and I shook my head.
When the afternoon slowed, I was finally able to sit back for a little while in my office. I put on a soft R&B playlist, letting it float from the speakers as I scrolled mindlessly through my emails, pretending to care about invoices and vendor updates. But I kept circling back to Legend.
God…
My thighs pressed together again as I leaned back in the chair, my mind flashing back to how he looked. Smooth dark skin, salt and pepper beard, tattooed chest, quiet intensity, mouth that prayed between my thighs, and a dick so heavenly it made me cum like I had no damn sense.
By the time the store closed and I was home again, I had showered, eaten, lit a candle, and curled up in my oversized hoodie on the couch. Pulling out my laptop, I found the email again. I sat there staring at the screen for a long time. I clicked the link and with my heart pounding and my breath shallow… I clicked “Confirm.” Thirty seconds later, I had an email response.
Confirmed. We’ll see you soon, Miss Lake. Please have your bags ready for private pickup.
Biting my bottom lip, I grinned and finally let myself breathe. “Okay, Legend,” I whispered to myself. “Let’s see what surrendering looks like… this time.”
legend
M o n t s e r r al o o k e dl i k ea dream come true. The island sat off the southern coast. Private. Exclusive. Technically unlisted. No tourists. No social media tags. Just white sand, luxury villas, imported chefs, a top-shelf bar carved into the rocks, lavish restaurants, and a team that moved on silent cues and six-figure NDAs. It was all mine… and Ronin’s, my oldest business partner.
I didn’t consider myself to have best friends, but he was my nigga. A rich-ass, risk-taking, loyalty-optional muthafucka who did what he wanted and never brought the same woman around twice. He was married, technically, but the ring stayed in the safe, and his mouth stayed on somebody else’s pussy. He’d be onthe island in a few hours, along with a few of my other business associates.
This trip wasn’t all for pleasure. It was a money move, and in between business, I planned on making Honey drip. Just the thought of her had my dick hard as I walked through the villa barefoot, eyes scanning every detail like I always did. Polished marble floors. White linen curtains dancing with the wind. Outdoor shower freshly scrubbed. Rose petals laid in the deep soaking tub per my instructions. Candles. Champagne chilling. Fridge stocked. Sheets fresh. Vibrators and silk ropes in the nightstand.
“Mr. Waters, everything has been taken care of. The canopy as well. Is she bringing a guest?” My head of staff asked, lifting a brow.
“Nah. She’s enough,” I muttered with a smirk, shoving my hands in my linen pants.
He laughed. “Noted. And the playlist?”
“The one I made. Run it through the pool speakers. No skips.”
