Page 22 of In Too Deep

“Here.” A cold bottle of Sprite was clutched between her hands. A paper towel was placed between both. “I chose for you, since you couldn’t.”

I placed the plastic fork on the edge of the plate and reached for the drink. I whispered a thank you before I opened it, and then I took a large swallow. I recoiled from the tartness, screwing the lid back on. I was becoming stuffed but too doggish to stop. The drink sat at my feet on top of the paper towel she gave me. Joining me back on the couch, she took her spot back on the other side. Each time she plopped down, sashayed away from me, and the time I embraced her, I got a whiff of something sweet. The heavy aroma from the food slapped me across the face, but the smell of caramel permeated her body, leaving a lasting impression in my nostrils. Had me wanting to drop a bag on whatever the fuck she was wearing; buy her a ton of it, so she’d never run out.

“You didn’t answer my question though,” I glanced over at her, with a mouthful of mac and cheese. It wasn’t that Velveeta shit either; her ass baked this in the oven. Dipping my fork in it, melted cheese rose from the pile.

“What was the question?”

“I asked you earlier if you stripped. I ain’t know you did.”

“Because I don’t. My stripping pole is for fun nights, you know—when the girls come over,” she shrugged.

“Are you any good at it?”

“I don’t know. Since I do it for fun, I never put too much thought into wanting to be good at it. I never cared enough.”

“I bet you sexy as fuck on it though.”

“You’ll never find out,” she blushed. Her shortbread skin complexion turned into a light shade of pink, and her cheeks rose.

“I’ll pay you.”

“Rome—”

“Call me Romelo,” I interjected. “Romelo is my birth name.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“A lot of people don’t, not even your cousin. When we’re alone, call me Romelo, it’s more personal. You earned it.”

“Oh, I earned it,” she smiled.

“Hell yeah, cooking for a nigga and being sweet.”

“Did you forget how we got here though,” she guffawed.

Moving the tray away from me. I carefully picked up and placed it further from me, but not too far. Just far enough so I wouldn’t nick it.

“I hadn’t forgotten,” I told her. “C’mere,” I motioned with my hand. “You all the way over there like I’m contagious and shit.”

Obeying, she inched closer to me, but I grabbed her waist and inched her even closer, then picked her up and positioned her on my lap. Her feet were positioned on both sides of me as my hands caressed her soft ass as I glided my large hands up and down the fabric, giving it gentle squeezes.

“Rome—” she scoffed.

I slapped her on the ass and bit down on my lip. “Romelo, to you.”

“Romelo,” she sighed as she reached back and clasped her hands on top of mine. “This isn’t right.”

“Tell me why it ain’t wrong though.”

She gripped my hands a little harder than before to get me to stop, but I selfishly insisted, barely trying to listen to her dilemma.

Removing my hands from her ass, giving in only just a tad bit. My hands snaked under her crop top and gripped her smallbreasts, flicking her nipples over and over with my thumb. Growing impatient, I needed to see her naked form, so I lifted her top and exposed them. Her cinnamon colored nipples looked like pebbles. I leaned forward after sitting back on the couch, while carrying her with me. She remained straddled on top of me with my big ass dick poking her pussy, formally greeting her.

I leaned forward, taking her nipples into my mouth, groaning at her sweet scent. Her moans were like music, a sweet symphony, better than a bird’s chirp. I felt her small fingers toy with my ears as she threw her head back, enjoying the sensation that she was trying so hard to shy away from. I had her like putty in the palm of my hands, and she gave in to me.

“If it ain’t right, then why is you moaning and shit?” I grunted. “Why you enjoyin’ this shit, Juicy?”

“Oooh, w-we shouldn’t be doing this, Romelo. My cousin,” she stammered. “You’re dating my?—”

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