The Pleasure Zone(76)

Nairobia’s cunt clenched at his street vernacular. He was so roguish. Yet, Nairobia instinctively knew he was also so deceptively gentle behind his tough exterior. She’d been around enough men to know a man with a heart. She wanted to crack open his shell, and drink him in.

She studied him thoughtfully. Then smiled. “The only thing I want to make hard for you, my darling, is your cock. Not your job. Have I failed you?”

“I got a girl,” he stated, circumventing the question. Of course he was hard. His dick started swelling the minute he’d stepped through the door and sat down. Lamar sensed he didn’t need to confirm or deny it because she already knew the answer when her gaze flitted to his crotch, then looked back up and smiled. He knew she knew. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she had some type of overpowering effect on him. She was a sexual magnet. And she craftily pulled him in every time he was near her. “She’s a good girl,” he said, not sure—at that moment, if he were trying to convince her or himself of that. “I’m not tryna fuck things up.”

Undeterred, Nairobia stared at him; her eyes alight with curiosity and amusement. “That’s nice, my love. But does she appreciate you? Is she eager to swallow you in her cunt? Does she make your toes curl? Does she love being down on her knees worshipping your cock?” Nairobia sensually slid the tip of her tongue from between her lips, then slowly licked over the top of them. “Does her cunt stay wet and hungry for you?”

He winced. No, of course she didn’t do any of that shit! And, hell no, she wasn’t eager about sex the way he was! That was one of the fucking problems. And, truth be told, it was slowly starting to eat away at him, like acid, corroding his senses. Cheating in the past had always been easy for him. He did it with no thought, or no regard for anyone else. But, nowadays, he was trying to do something different, trying to be different. But the shit was getting harder by the moment, right along with his fat dick.

“We get it in,” he said, crossing his right ankle over his left knee. The words were forced. But he managed a straight face when he said them.

“How many times a night?” Nairobia inquired.

How many times a night? Ha! Was she fucking kidding him? He was lucky if he got it every other night, and that was a reach.

She didn’t wait for an answer. “A young, virile man such as yourself, my love, should have his cock sucked into a warm mouth, and his seeds milked daily.”

Lamar’s dick, heavy with arousal, jumped in his lap. He felt his nut swelling in his balls. He felt himself go tense, drawn, his body prickling with sexual awareness the way she looked at him. Those sinful gray eyes of hers threatening and promising pleasure like he’d never experienced.

He was tempted, so, so, very tempted. His resolve was hanging by a thread, a very thin one at that. It was stretched to the limit. But it’d hadn’t broken…yet.

Lamar took a deep breath and tried not to inhale, along with air, her mind-numbing scent. Foot back to the floor, he subconsciously opened and closed his legs. Opened. Closed. Opened. He fanned them out wide, then shut them tight, pressing his balls together, drawing Nairobia’s gaze back to his crotch.

He stopped.

“Listen, real talk, ma. I can’t keep workin’ under these conditions. If we can’t come to some type’a understanding, I’ma need to assign someone else to manage your security needs.”

There went that rapacious smile of hers. Again. “I would hate to lose you, my darling. But if you must, then fine. Just as long as you manage my sexual needs before you walk out that door. Let me wrap you in my warmth, my love. Just one night.”

Lamar groaned. His hunger, his overwhelming desire, his gnawing frustration evident in the fists at his side and the clenching muscles in his jaw. “You like fuckin’ wit’ muhfuckas, I see.”

“No, my darling,” Nairobia purred. “I love fucking men who I desire. Men who moisten my cunt long before they ever touch me. You, my darling, moisten me.”

Lamar bit down on his bottom lip to keep from roaring out a growl, roiling energy circling all around him.

“Be clear, my love,” Nairobia said straightforward. “I don’t want to marry you. I want to fuck you cross-eyed. And I want you to fuck me blind. Then I want you to continue doing what I pay you to do. Provide my club’s security. And, to be on-call for whatever other security details I may need you and your company for. Nothing more, nothing less, my love.” She stood up from her seat and, with a sway of her hips, prowled around toward him, sliding a finger over the top of her desk as she did so. “Now remove your shades, my darling,” she demanded softly.