Her head straightens. “Built?” she sputters. “Sweetheart, you’re not experiencing the returns of your labor if you’re in here, hiding while he’s out there, hustling.” It’s now her turn to roll her eyes as she chuckles.
“He’s mine, Dawn,” I warn. “In spite of where your fantasy takes you with him, you’re missing a very important element.” She lowers her chin as she squints, asking me to finish with my point. “His heart, Dawn. You may experience some of that CEO mien that is irresistible. That thug passion that he undoubtedly emanates. You may even speak to him several times a week—meet with him nearly as much, but you don’t share intimacy with that man.” I angle my head as I raise my eyebrows to emphasize, “My man.”
Dawn breaks out in the most gut-wrenching laughter. I watch as her throat rumbles in mirth while her head falls back. She’s either really in a laughing spell or extremely insane. After an extended period, she slows enough to inform, “I’ve explored every inch of his tasty mouth,” she plucks a brow. “Tasted like brandy. Funny, right?” She doesn’t give me a moment to answer before continuing, “If that isn’t intimacy, then I don’t know what is, honey.” Her head tilts, exuding arrogance.
It’s now my turn to belt out a hearty laugh. It’s silent compared to Dawn’s moments ago, but I’m sure far more gratifying. I can’t believe her incredulity, and revel in her ignorance. The liquid courage from six glasses of brandy helps, too. She gives me my moment just as I had hers, though I can tell she’s squirming to see how I’ll get out on the other side.
“Intimacy?” I scoff. “From a kiss?” I abruptly raise my palm in the air defensively, “Granted, a kiss from Azmir Jacobs is nothing ordinary. Azmir’s mouth is like cotton candy mixed with mint; sweet…and fresh.” Breaking my reverie, I glance over to read her expression. She’s rigid, yet I’m nowhere near done. “But dear, having him only in your mouth…via a kiss, no less, isn’t even half the journey.”
I push from the wall, sexily strut over to Dawn, successfully masking my incredibly imbibed state and stand directly in front of her. “You haven’t even been smashed by A.D. That…,” I chuckle sensually. “…is life altering. And do you know what it’s like to have him in your mouth?” I exhale deeply, involuntarily retreating to the memory of it. Once my mind takes flight with memoirs of Azmir, I can’t be responsible. “The fullness of his heavy appendage, coursing your mouth until it reaches down your throat? The weight of him, pushing in and pulling out against your needy tongue? How the ridges from his throbbing cock rub against the corners of your mouth, stretching it to near pain from trying to fit him all in. How your belly fills from him emptying his soul inside you?” I cock my head to the side. “Huhn?”
Becoming antsy and agitated, Dawn pivots a 90 degree angle and, like partners executing the perfect cha-cha slide, I swivel along with her. She’s now facing the door, debating her next move to leave. But I’m not done. Nope! Not by a long shot. I have a point to prove.
“How about having him between your legs—over you or behind you—plunging deeper than your depths have ever been known to exist?” I sigh after a short pause. “Do you, Dawn,” I enunciate her name fully and appropriately as I softly move one of her perfect bouncy curls behind her ear. “…know what it’s like to have Azmir Divine clawing at your hips, holding you to him as though he’s desperate to fuse with you? Having a man of his caliber so vulnerable and needy, trembling against your pelvis from sheer bliss is…intoxicating. Have you experienced the exhilarating feeling of having him shoot his hot, virile, and powerful seeds in your provocative uterus?”
I see her chest rise and eyes slowly close as I move closer to whisper seductively in her ear, “Do you know that wielding force of having his seed implanted in your womb? The empowering sensation of carrying him inside of you?” I nod my head before sharing, “Mmm-hmm, we were expecting,” my whisper is softer.
Dawn audibly gasps. I lick my lips, suddenly aroused by my own torment, before whispering, “Yeah…he’s that potent.” She swallows hard.
I’m hardly done with her. I have so many examples of intimacy with A.D. Jacobs. I want to be soundly and thoroughly comprehensive on her need to back off. I’m standing, staring at her rigid frame, contemplating my next move. You never want to reveal too much about your lover and his skillset to any woman, but most certainly not to your standby. And if what I decreed to Tara as she left my office some time ago about my wing days being over is true, then Dawn is, in fact, my understudy.
I hear the door push open, forcefully. I know it’s him, finally locating me, making my argument to her that much more credible. Azmir is good at finding me. But I don’t shift in my stance. Neither does Dawn. I’ve enraptured her in the fantasy of intimacy with Azmir.