Travis
I would. Marry her I mean. If not just for the fact that her pussy is golden. Her body is phenomenal, she's sexy, nice ass, nice tits, nice lips.
Pretty face. Pretty sweet. Nice.
Smart. Business oriented. Classy.
"Ey, dumbass, what the fuck are you even daydreaming about?"
I smirk, looking back at Damon. "Nice strap, pretty woman. Why you up my ass? You're neither one."
He wrinkles his nose. "You serious about that one?"
I shrug, "Don't knock it till you try it."
He chuckles, as I flip through my sketchbook. "Got an appointment. You do it."
"Hey, you got some pussy?" Damon asks me.
I sigh. "Spent the night with a lady last night. Not that it's your business, Damon."
"Ah, so fuckin posh! Spent the night with a lady," he mocks me. "'Ho is she?"
"It's uh...Jasmine Hines."
He sneers. "What the rich bitch you used to fucking jerk to when we were in high school."
"I didn't..." I blink. "Anyway, don't call her that."
"She was a stuck up bitch like the rest of 'em—"
"No she wasn't. She just...had more money than we do. That makes her rich but not necessarily a bitch. And she kinda can be, but it's cute."
He narrows his eyes. "You fucking simp! Even if you do like it up the ass you don't gotta be a fucking pussy."
"I'm not being a pussy—I just...I think she's cool. We're just messing around. Stop killing my vibe just cause you're broke and ugly."
Damon scoffed. "How's Deb?"
"Fine. She's taking care of the little one. I'm going over to see her in a little bit. You coming?"
"Your sisters fucking annoying," he mumbled, looking away.
I smirk. I think back to last night. Fuck.
"Hope that's not for me," Damon nods toward it, "Or your sister."
"Fuckin' perv," I throw a punch at him.
He laughs. "Aye, is she really so nice? That Jasmine chick?"
My phone beeps. I look down.
Got a lunch break. We can fuck in my office if you're down.
I smile. "I gotta go."
"This is your shop, asshole! Come back here!"
"You can handle, you're a big little boy, Damon, promise!"
I head over to her building, picking up some McDonald's in the way. Wonder if she eats that? She's all classy and shit, maybe she only eats from five star restaurants or something.
I walk into the building, half expecting security to stop me. But they don't, so I head up to her office.
I knock on the door. She opens it, sitting down. "I have thirty minutes."
I look around her office. "Yeah? Well, how bout you eat then, you always work real late right? Should get some food in you, yknow?"
She glanced up at me, narrowing her eyes at the bag. "I hope those are nuggets."
I smirk. "They are. Thought I should bring you something." I hand it to her sitting down.
She opens the bag, putting her hands together for a moment her eyes closing. Is she praying? That's so sweet.
"Thanks," she smiles, starting on the food. "I really only called you here for some dick, but no offense, I like this better."
My dick is not better than meat byproduct...damn.
I shrug. "You could've just asked me to bring you some food. I won't mind."
She waves her hand, taking ten fries and stuffing them in Her mouth. I hold back my laughter.
"I swear to fucking gosh I have not eaten in ten fucking years," she sighs, "And I really want to take this goddamn bun down it's hurting my fucking scalp."
I chuckle. "Then why don't you just do it? It's your place right? You're the boss."
She sneers. "Because my hair is 'unprofessional."
I wrinkle my nose. "What idiot said that? Isn't that like...what do you call it, it's a micro aggression isn't it?"
Her grin is pained. "I'm actually very happy you know that means. And the idiot who said that, was my mother."
I wince. "Oh sorry."
She shrugged. "It's fine. That's her own self-hatred I guess. I just never grew out of it. She said so much. Anyway, thanks for the good, Travis."
Say somethings. Make her laugh.
"I uh...I found out I was allergic to peanuts, in middle school, because this girl I had a crush on, her favorite sandwich was peanut butter. So I tried it, snd my face was a ballon for like four days."
I shake my head. "Now I know why I never liked it."
She chuckles. "That's so fucking random,"
I shrug, smiling. "Yeah. I'm an idiot."
She snorted. "I can kinda see you, all swollen."
I hold air in my cheeks, making her laugh. That's better. She's so pretty when she laughs.
"Hey, Jasmine?"
She looks at me. "No Miss?"
"You're the most classy business woman I've ever seen. You should wear your hair however you want, yknow?"
She smirks. "You'd think if a colonizer could tell me that, my mother would know that."
Colonizer?
She laughs. "Thanks, Travis. That's sweet of you. I'll give you some good head tonight, just for that."
I nod. Well damn. I should make her laugh more often.
"My lunch is over," she whispers.
I stand, putting my hand in my pockets. "Yeah? Well, have a good rest of the day then, Miss."
"You too, Travis. Thanks again."
I nod. "It's my pleasure."
I head back down, getting in my car, heading back to my shop. Shit...She's adorable.
I walk in, finding Damon getting his tools ready.
"Why l you blushing?" He asks, looking up at me.
I shrug. "Why are you always in my damn business?"
He scoffs. "Your sister called."
I freeze. "And? What did she say?"
He looks to at me. "Doesn't matter. If she called you know she needs something. Go see her."
I sigh. "You don't think anything's wrong right? I mean...it's Wes. Wes is always fine."
Damon 'a brow creases. "No one is always fine. Go back home and check on her. Didn't call for nothing."
I nod. "You coming back with me?"
He frowns. "Told you. Your sister' annoying. Her and that damn boy."
I snort. "Yknow if I didn't know any better and I'd say you...like her something."
Damon says nothing, making me frown. But it's Damon. Why would he like Wes? I pull out my phone, shooting Jasmine a text that I won't be able to make it tonight.
Going back home...
Damn. I was hoping I wasn't gonna have do that for a while.
