Page 4 of Sparks Will Fly

He shrugged. “I could’ve but this seemed like more fun.”

I allowed my head to fall backward. I knew my fucking night was over with now. Walking over to Tony, I took the bottle of liquor, knowing I was going to need more of this to deal with my father. I took another shot to the head before turning my attention to him.

“Sorry. Got to cut this short. I’ll walk you out.”

I slid my feet into my house shoes while he retrieved his things. Mercy walked over to my bed, watching with pure satisfaction. He just didn’t know I was getting him back for this. Once Tony was ready, I followed him, but Mercy’s voice stopped us.

“Um, I think you’re forgetting this.”

He held up a silver wedding band in his hand. It must’ve fallen on the bed from Tony’s pocket. I marched over to him with a frown.

“Mind your fucking business,” I mumbled.

“I was trying to, but this fucking wedding ring was blinding me.” He chortled like he’d delivered the world’s funniest joke. “Not to mention, you are my business.”

“And that’s the problem with the men in this family. Don’t know how to leave me the hell alone and let me live my life the way I want to,” I fussed, although he’d clearly helped me dodge a bullet. I was a lot of things, but a homewrecker was never one of them.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Have a nice chat with daddy dearest,” he teased as I turned to finish walking Tony out.

I sighed knowing I could never have a nice chat with my father. Nice wasn’t even in his DNA when it came to me. I took another shot of liquor knowing a lecture was to come.

“Stop. Stop… Just stop.”

Aisley’s head continued to bob up and down as she slobbered all over my dick.

“Aisley,” I spoke her name firmly but was only met with her messy head of blonde curls trying to take my dick to the back of her throat. Too bad it didn’t feel as good as it looked. Gripping a handful of her hair, I snatched her head up. “I said stop.”

She looked so silly with spit dripping down the sides of her mouth. Her caramel-colored face was flushed red from the energy she exerted to piss me off instead of pleasing me.

“What? Why?”

“All I feel is your fucking teeth. You about to skin my shit.” I was disgusted and borderline angry.

She wanted to do this, and now, it was a waste of time. I had plenty of other shit I could be doing.

“I know you offered to eat my dick up, but I didn’t realize you meant literally. Never offer to do that shit again.”

She grimaced from my critique and her chest caved.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” she stuttered with a quivering bottom lip.

I grabbed her chin and titled her head upward.

“It’s all good. Just stick to your job before you lose that the way you’ve lost access to my dick ever again.”

She gulped loudly. Tears filled her waterline, and I knew it was time to fucking go. I hated women tears and wasn’t in the mood for them today.

“Aye, stop that. It’s not worth crying over. You tried. I didn’t like it, and that’s that. Clean yourself up and meet me inside. We have work to do.”

While I talked, I tucked my dick back in my boxers and readjusted my trousers. I didn’t wait for her to respond as I knocked twice on the window. My door came open almost instantaneously. I stepped out with my briefcase handle secured in my left hand. I nodded to my driver Austin as I buttoned my suit jacket. I looked fresh as hell in my black tailored suit. I wore a black pea coat on top because the wind was beating bitches up today.

I loved the way I looked in business attire. It made me feel like that nigga. Even before I was closing deals that afforded me the luxury of expensive custom suits, I wasn’t too good for the cheap shit. I knew it was all about appearance. I learned a long time ago that people took you more seriously when you took care of yourself. I didn’t give a damn who tried to argue otherwise but looks matter. People were way more shallow than they cared to admit aloud, and I was not a delusional nigga. One thing a person could never say was they saw me looking busted or dusty. Now that I had money, I prided myself on looking and smelling the part every day.

I admired the warmth of the sun despite the slightly cold breeze that whipped between the tall buildings surrounding us in Downtown Rosewind. I loved my office space on the thirteenth floor of the Motley. The views inspired me to work my ass off. It felt like I was on top of the world, a foreign feeling for a little Black boy from the slums of this city. I had come a long way, and nothing or no one would stop me from having my way.

The walk inside was quick because I didn’t stop to chat or even glance at another soul. I was a man on a mission. This shit got me out of bed every morning before my alarm could even go off. I was single-handedly carrying the city on my back with my mission to buy back the block.

I watched the way the government removed more and more funding from the public every day to fund their personal endeavors. Children were suffering so badly that all they could think of was survival. Who could care about education if your biggest concern was worrying about where your next meal would come from? I had a soft spot for children, especially the ones being raised by their environment. So, I did whatever I could to change the narrative and offer something most weren’t getting these days—a chance to be better.

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