Page 7 of The Millionaire Mortician
“And when the time is right, we’ll catch that nigga off guard and it’s over for him,” Dodge added.
“Or we can just go and light his ass up right now,” Mav stated, changing his tone fast as shit.
I just stared at him. “Nah, I wanna burn him alive.” I smirked.
The room got quiet for a moment.
“Fuck it. Let’s get it poppin’ then,” Mav stated excitedly.
I hadno plans of leaving the house for the rest of the day but shit always popped up and I just had to go with the flow. The first thing that popped into my head was how Daija was going to catch a fit once she heard I had to leave out. She not only pushed to have more quality time with me but also for me to get more rest. While I would feel bad sometimes, other times I remembered telling her from the beginning that I was a very busy man with a demanding career.
The guys stayed for another hour as we chopped it up about business. When they finally dispersed, I returned to the bedroom and cuddled up with Daija. I still had another hour before heading to the funeral home. There were some employees still on the clock, so I had to wait until the place was clear.
“What was so important they had to show up at the house like that?” she questioned as I rubbed my dick on her ass.
I kissed the nape of her neck. “Chill, baby. They’re gone now,” I tried to brush off her question.
Daija sucked her teeth, and I could’ve bet my last dollar she rolled her eyes in the back of her head.
To ease the tension and shift the energy, I started to caress her body from her thighs up to her breasts while kissing her neck. Once I heard a soft moan escape, I knew I had her.
Flipping her over onto her back, I slipped off her panties, then parted her legs so I could position my face between her thighs. Inhaling her scent, I felt my dick brick up instantly.
Daija placed her hand on top of my head, letting me know she was ready for me to be the eater that I was. I licked her lips, then parted them with my tongue.
“Baby,” she moaned out.
I blew on her clit before latching onto it. As I sucked her button, my hands roamed her body with a firm touch. On instinct, Daija started to grind her pussy against my face, moving her hips in a circular motion while pushing my head deep between her legs.
Plunging my tongue into her hole, she sped up her attack on my mouth. At that point, I wasn’t sure if I was the one fucking her or if she was fucking me. My main thing was, she was experiencing pleasure, and that’s all I wanted to do — please her.
“Oh fuck. I’m ‘boutta cum,” she cried.
I came up for air for one second. “Let me taste you,” I demanded.
A few more licks and sucks later, Daija’s legs started to tremble as her body jerked. Her grip on my head intensified as she came all in my mouth and all over my beard.
“Ughhh,” she moaned out. “Damn.”
Licking my lips and savoring her juices, I then gave her a deep kiss so she could taste herself.
I finally pulled back to look at her. She dropped onto the pillow with her chest rising and falling as she breathed hard.
“I gotta dip. I’ll be right back, though,” I informed her.
Daija quickly jumped up. “Seriously?” she quizzed.
Instead of answering her, I just went into the bathroom to handle my hygiene before getting ready to step out. I knew she was pissed, but she’d eventually get over it.
Crossingthe Brooklyn Bridge into lower Manhattan, I peeped that the place was still semi-busy for a Thursday night at nine-thirty p.m. Marcano Funeral Home wasn’t far from the bridge, so before I knew it, I was pulling into the garage and hopping out of my Benz. I observed my surroundings as I watched the garage gate close. Once it was all secured, I made my way inside.
The place was quiet, still, and cold. Usually, I would’ve heard my footsteps echoing down the hallway as I walked. However, I didn’t have one of my high-priced designer leather shoes on. I had on some Jordans that night.
Making my way into the morgue, I searched for the body I needed to locate. After a few seconds, my eyes landed on the number.
There you go, I thought.
The drawer screeched as I pulled it out toward me. There, a man’s body laid stiff as hell but peaceful. He was dressed in a cheap suit that no family members cared about. In fact, he had no family. The man in front of me was a John Doe.
