Page 43 of Keeping Busy
“I think I passed out.” I said, my eyes were heavy as hell, and I swear my body felt like jello, like there wasn’t a bone or a muscle anywhere in there.
“What makes you think you passed out?”
“I don’t remember anything that happened after I came.” Frowning, I racked my brain for memories. “Did you come?”
“Fa’sho.”
I was quiet for a few minutes. “Busy?”
“Yeah?”
“I’mma need you to run that back...see if you can make it happen again.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You serious?”
“Uh yeah.” I said, making my eyes big and nodding my head. “Did you miss the part where I said that the loving was so good that it made me pass out? I definitely need that again.”
He watched me, finally deciding that I actually was serious. He rolled on top of me, and easily slid inside with very little effort. “Greedy ass.” He muttered, stroking me deeply.
The sensation snatched my breath and made me moan involuntarily. Before I completely succumbed to the pleasure, I was able to voice one logical piece of important information.
“Condom, Busy.” I groaned, as he thrusted into me.
“In a second.” He said, lifting my thighs over his forearms and pushing my legs back so that much more of me was exposed to him.
He slammed into me like he was the quarterback, and I was his favorite receiver, because I caught every single pass. The first time we had sex was slow and sexy, this time the sex was fast and hard. The bed quaked underneath us as Busy pumped me with ferocity. I could barely catch my breath, let alone find the ability to match his tempo, because all I could think about was the pleasure in my core.
After I didn’t know how many minutes of intense pleasure (because this time, I was positive that I was floating in and out of consciousness), I came shuddering uncontrollably, and yelling incoherent things loudly. As I allowed my head to fall back on the pillow, Busy pulled out of me and released his load on my stomach. He crashed down next to me, his breathing audible.
If I wasn’t positive before, now I knew for sure that whoever I was messing with before Busy came into the picture didn’t deserve me. I nodded off before I could even wipe him off of my stomach.
Busy took my hand and helped me from the truck when we arrived at the barbecue which was located at a mansion in a very upscale, gated community. He hugged me from behind and placed an open mouthed kiss on my neck, just as a uniformed maid (housekeeper, servant, worker - I don’t know) greeted us at the front entrance (I won’t say front door, because that’s what I had, these people had an “entrance”) and led us through the foyer.
We were intercepted by a pretty, peanut butter-colored older woman as we walked past the kitchen and were headed for a set of French doors that led to the backyard. She waved the uniformed woman away, and fixed us with a knowing smile. I figured the smile had something to do with the fact that Busy was still behind me, his arms still draped over my shoulders and he was periodically burying his nose in my neck, as we walked.
“I was wondering if you were even gonna make it, Busy.” The woman said.
She immediately commanded my attention, because she referred to him as “Busy,” as opposed to Maddox.
“Of course I was gonna make it.” He replied easily. “I was just running a little late...because you know, there’s not usually a specific start time for this event.”
“Not usually.” She agreed. “But Rob is one of the hosts this year, and he asked me to help out. You know how detail oriented I am.”
“No one is more detail oriented than you, True.” He agreed with a snicker.
“Which makes me the world’s greatest mother, and the world’s greatest agent.” Her eyes challenged him to disagree with her.
He acceded with a nod of his head. “No doubt.”
“There was definitely a start time, and you missed it by…” She glanced down at her gorgeous rose gold colored Audemars Piguet watch, “almost three hours.”
“Your watch is beautiful.” I said, no longer able to keep the thought to myself.
Her eyes bounced from the face of the watch up to my face, and she gave me a genuine smile. “You must be her. You must be Meeka.”
“Mecca.” Busy and I corrected at the same time.
She smiled again and cocked her head to the side. “I apologize, Mecca. I’m Ayana Truesdale, Maddox’s agent. He likes to call me True, and you may call me that as well. It’s nice to meet you.”
