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“You so fuckin’ nasty, you know that?”
Hendrix’s facial expression was set to a handsome scowl as he palmed the back of my head as if my last name was Spalding. He leaned his head back against the door as my lips slid up and down his dick. Nice and sloppy, just the way he liked it. What was touching the back of my throat wasn’t just any dick. He had a dick to rival everyone from my past. It was definitely something to write home to Mama about. I was supposed to be celebrating my cousin Lauryn’s engagement, but instead I was teetering on the three-inch heels and the tips of my toes, trying my best not to let my knees touch the floor of the cramped restroom bathroom stall we were occupying. A men’s bathroom stall at that.
We’d crossed a line we never should’ve fuckin’ crossed. Matter of fact, we’d done figure eights over it. But I was down to do whatever he wanted me to. I’d come to the island of St. Martin to get over my old nigga, not get under a new one—one that I couldn’t stand at that, but Hendrix and I were far from the shallow end. To make it all make sense, let me start from the beginning…
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