Page 43 of Grown Folks Confessions: Black Lush

My eyes met his in the mirror. “And when exactly was that?”

“Freshman year art class,” he answered with no hesitation. “It was time for our watercolor project, and a lot of students were dreading it, but I was tryin’ to play it cool. I was excited for it, but I was having a hard time transitioning from junior high to high school back then.”

“I remember,” I interjected. “You never mentioned it, but I knew schoolwork was difficult for you at times.”

He nodded. “And you always partnered with me in our classes so I wouldn’t get made fun of. Just like that day in art class. You knew I was looking forward to it, though, and you asked if you could be my partner. Since you were fine as hell and I was just really diving into my artistry, I told you yeah, and when we had to pick the object or animal we’d focus on, you picked a butterfly.”

Oh, wow.“I forgot all about that project.”

“Because you had shit going on at home,” he recapped, jogging my memory.

“That was the second time my dad got locked up that year.”

“It was,” he said. “And when you came to my house that night apologizing for missing the class, you were emotional and looked exhausted. I think you’d also just moved in with your aunt that morning. You were barely at my house for twenty minutes before you started dosing off, so my mom called your aunt and told her we would look after you that night. You were gone in the morning though.”

“I was embarrassed,” I admitted. “You and I were cool, but not the sleepover kind of cool. At least, we weren’t at the time, but that changed.”

“I went to school early when my mom told me you’d left,” he enlightened. “I finished our project before school started, and by the time we had class, you had been shocked to see our butterfly complete. The teacher ended up loving it, and when she asked why we’d chosen a butterfly, you told her that it represented hope and dreams. The ability to fly away and see the world from a unique perspective. For you, the butterfly represented freedom, and I remember thinking you sounded so much more mature than fourteen at the time.”

I was mesmerized by his revelation as he rubbed Vaseline on the tattoo before protecting it from the elements. “How do you remember that?”

His eyes were serious when he told me, “As cliché as it sounds, there ain’t a damn thing I don’t remember about you, Layla Payne. From how you take your coffee black with three sugars, to how you can’t help but scrunch your nose when you’re trying to hold your tongue about something.”

“My poker face is a lot better now.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “Your face will always show your hand. And now that I’ve finally left my mark on your beautiful body, I think it’s time for me to remind you that we aren’t finished yet.” He removed his apron and gloves, his eyes raking over me again while his scorching gaze reminded me that I was still naked as hell, yet he was fully clothed.

“And as corny as it sounds, you gave me butterflies that day,” he confessed, cleaning up the space. “Not for the first time, but I damn sho’ remembered that feeling. And later that year, I designed the tattoo that is now right where it belongs.”

Pinch me.That had to be the sweetest damn thing anyone had ever done for me. I couldn’t even bask in his words though because now, he was looking at me—or rather, was fixated on my pussy—in a way that made me feel empowered.

“Come here,” he commanded, pointing back at the chair. “There’s something else I need to do to put the cherry on top.”

“Something with the design?” I asked out of nerves. “You already taped it up.”

“You know damn well it ain’t got shit to do with the tat.” He reached for me when I got closer and lifted me into the chair, already spreading my legs as he did so. “Today is International Female Orgasm Day, and I already feel like an asshole for neglecting this fine pussy of yours.”

I giggled. “You just had the day at the top of your head like that?”

“I’m a Hood.” He licked his lips as if he was preparing for a feast. “We never forget a naughty holiday.”

sixteen

Grown Folks Confession #16: When you realize you’re destined to live a life of sin, your fuck-it meter is activated. You did what you did. You said what you said. And you make no apologies for it.

Naughty Holiday:

International Female Orgasm Day

LAYLA

Lord,give me strength.I was already overly stimulated, so when he placed wet kisses across my thighs before his expert tongue pushed aside my pussy lips to suck my clit into his mouth, I spasmed off that leather chair, squirming beneath him.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re goin’?” he asked, hands cupping my ass to keep me in place.

I didn’t really want to get away, but it felt too damn good, and I was so freaking sensitive, it felt like my orgasm was seconds away from spilling all over his chin. I would never tell him this, but Ares was a god in the bedroom, but that mouth though? It did shit to me that should be illegal.

He alternated between sucking my nub fast, then slow.

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