urgency spreading through her veins.
He flipped her over and lingered above her. He sucked two fingers and sank them into her, rubbing her clit until she began to whine for more. He lowered his face between her silky thighs and tasted her.
“Mmmm,” he hummed, drinking her up and pushing Jaylah closer to pleasure’s edge.
“Johnny please,” she pleaded again, “Please…”
He spread her legs and glided into her, filling her up. He could taste the peppermint still lingering on her tongue as he moved inside her in slow, deliberate strokes that sent sparks through her body. He took his time, plunging deep into her belly to plant his seed.
She danced with him, her hips slapping against his body creating their own rhythm. He turned her over and she got on all fours, waiting for him to take her from behind. He dug in again, this time crashing into her with enough force to split her in two.
Her body was his playground and he punched every ticket. Her toes, ass, stomach, and head throbbed from Johnny’s touch, and she struggled to contain the tempest brewing within.
“I’m…cumming . Shit, I’m—“ an orgasm rumbled through her limbs, causing Jaylah’s entire body to vibrate.
Johnny dove deeper into her, sucking her neck as he rammed into her hips. He grunted with each thrust, calling her name over and over until he seemed to run out of words.
“Oh…Jay lah…Oh…” he growled, finally collapsing on top of her as milky liquid dripped down her thighs.
T hey lay on the floor, fingers intertwined, trying to catch their breath.
“You ok?” he asked, still on top of her.
“Better than ok,” she said. “You?”
“No,” he replied, “I think I’m falling in love.”
Eight
“What do you want to do today?” he asked, as they lay in bed. She leaned into him as she typed, working on her first column for Glamour . Jaylah couldn’t believe how perfect things had worked out. After a herky-jerky start, she and Johnny fell into the comfortable rhythm of a happy couple, spending nights and weekends together watching films, making love, and talking about the future.
He’d virtually lived at her flat the past week and she relished being able to make him breakfast and see him off in the mornings.
“Brick Lane,” she said, finally answering his question. “I haven’t been yet and I want to snap some pictures for my column. I need to make sure it’s perfect. I made a lot of promises to land it, now I have to deliver.”
He closed her laptop. “No working today, innit? You’re leaving in three weeks.”
“But I’m coming back .”
“ Minor detail. I still won’t be able to see you,” he parted her lips with his tongue. “Let’s just have fun today. Maybe a little shopping on me?”
“For earrings?” she asked, excited to add a few pairs to her eclectic collection.
“For whatever you want,” Johnny said, tasting her mouth again.
“Yay! Let’s get dressed.”
* * *
Brick Lane was an explosion of color. Gigantic murals, and an array of clothes, shoes, and painted canvases spilled out from every corner. The smell of lamb gyros clashed with pungent curries and roasting meat, and musicians crowded onto the sidewalks to belt out classic tunes and get discovered. It was hard to focus; all of Jaylah’s senses were bombarded at once, causing her to turn at a moment’s notice, distracted by a streak of green hair or a 20-foot high painting of an elephant with tentacles.
This was not stuffy old England where afternoons meant donning your Sunday best and toasting the Queen over decadent teas. Brick Lane Market was London at its grimiest, most creative and alive.
Jaylah and Johnny rambled through the bazaar, stopping to examine the handmade merchandise and chat with vendors. She marveled at a man doling out Salt-n-Pepa-style asymmetrical haircuts in an alleyway, and contemplated jumping in the long line to let him hook her up with a style that represented how she felt now—brand
He flipped her over and lingered above her. He sucked two fingers and sank them into her, rubbing her clit until she began to whine for more. He lowered his face between her silky thighs and tasted her.
“Mmmm,” he hummed, drinking her up and pushing Jaylah closer to pleasure’s edge.
“Johnny please,” she pleaded again, “Please…”
He spread her legs and glided into her, filling her up. He could taste the peppermint still lingering on her tongue as he moved inside her in slow, deliberate strokes that sent sparks through her body. He took his time, plunging deep into her belly to plant his seed.
She danced with him, her hips slapping against his body creating their own rhythm. He turned her over and she got on all fours, waiting for him to take her from behind. He dug in again, this time crashing into her with enough force to split her in two.
Her body was his playground and he punched every ticket. Her toes, ass, stomach, and head throbbed from Johnny’s touch, and she struggled to contain the tempest brewing within.
“I’m…cumming . Shit, I’m—“ an orgasm rumbled through her limbs, causing Jaylah’s entire body to vibrate.
Johnny dove deeper into her, sucking her neck as he rammed into her hips. He grunted with each thrust, calling her name over and over until he seemed to run out of words.
“Oh…Jay lah…Oh…” he growled, finally collapsing on top of her as milky liquid dripped down her thighs.
T hey lay on the floor, fingers intertwined, trying to catch their breath.
“You ok?” he asked, still on top of her.
“Better than ok,” she said. “You?”
“No,” he replied, “I think I’m falling in love.”
Eight
“What do you want to do today?” he asked, as they lay in bed. She leaned into him as she typed, working on her first column for Glamour . Jaylah couldn’t believe how perfect things had worked out. After a herky-jerky start, she and Johnny fell into the comfortable rhythm of a happy couple, spending nights and weekends together watching films, making love, and talking about the future.
He’d virtually lived at her flat the past week and she relished being able to make him breakfast and see him off in the mornings.
“Brick Lane,” she said, finally answering his question. “I haven’t been yet and I want to snap some pictures for my column. I need to make sure it’s perfect. I made a lot of promises to land it, now I have to deliver.”
He closed her laptop. “No working today, innit? You’re leaving in three weeks.”
“But I’m coming back .”
“ Minor detail. I still won’t be able to see you,” he parted her lips with his tongue. “Let’s just have fun today. Maybe a little shopping on me?”
“For earrings?” she asked, excited to add a few pairs to her eclectic collection.
“For whatever you want,” Johnny said, tasting her mouth again.
“Yay! Let’s get dressed.”
* * *
Brick Lane was an explosion of color. Gigantic murals, and an array of clothes, shoes, and painted canvases spilled out from every corner. The smell of lamb gyros clashed with pungent curries and roasting meat, and musicians crowded onto the sidewalks to belt out classic tunes and get discovered. It was hard to focus; all of Jaylah’s senses were bombarded at once, causing her to turn at a moment’s notice, distracted by a streak of green hair or a 20-foot high painting of an elephant with tentacles.
This was not stuffy old England where afternoons meant donning your Sunday best and toasting the Queen over decadent teas. Brick Lane Market was London at its grimiest, most creative and alive.
Jaylah and Johnny rambled through the bazaar, stopping to examine the handmade merchandise and chat with vendors. She marveled at a man doling out Salt-n-Pepa-style asymmetrical haircuts in an alleyway, and contemplated jumping in the long line to let him hook her up with a style that represented how she felt now—brand
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