Beyoncé Knowles can't believe her annoyingly perfect personal assistant has actually resigned from her cushy, highly paid position, and she intends to tell her exactly what she thinks about it.
But when she gets to her place, she comes to realize s...
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After fucking her on the dressing table, they did it in bed, and in the shower. They had sex almost every day, but they were both ravenous tonight, insatiable.
She woke up early, though, out of habit. Nicki dragged her feet to the bathroom, trying to be as silent as possible. Beyonce didn't sleep nearly enough. She worked all the time, even on weekends.
She picked up their clothes scattered on the floor to drop them on the dressing table. Something fell out of her jacket when she lifted it.
She bent down to get it and stilled, eyes widening.
It was a red box, with gold filigree engraved around it. On top of it, the word Cartier was written.
Her heart sped up.
No, she was making a big deal out of nothing. Beyonce was fond of overpriced jewelry. She always bought her jewelry, and she loved when she wore them.
Yet there was something peculiar about that box. It didn't look like a new present she'd picked up recently. It looked old. Used.
It was too small for almost anything, too square for earrings. Cufflinks, maybe?
She bit her lip.
"You know what they say about curiosity, naughty girl."
She lifted her eyes, her heart beating a thousand miles a minute. Beyonce was still on the bed, her gorgeous, toned frame on top of the covers. She was looking at her with something she couldn't quite name. Something too intense for her light words.
"I didn't mean...I was just putting our clothes away. Sorry, I..."
"Go on. Open it. You know you want to."
Did she?
Right now, she wanted nothing more than to shove the box right back in her jacket and forget she ever saw it.
Because it wasn't a ring. It couldn't be a ring. And when she opened it and saw the damn cufflinks, she was going to scream, and cry, and look like a pathetic idiot.
She crossed the room to her and put the box right next to her pillow on the bed. Nicki forced a smile. "I'm sorry I intruded on your privacy. If you meant for me to open this, you would have given it to me."
She had to get to the bathroom. Now. Right now. She turned around.
She'd just taken one step when she grabbed her hand and tugged her to her, sitting up.
"I wanted you to open it. But you remember what your daughter said, right? I'm a coward."
She frowned. Blue said she was a coward? That didn't make sense. Blue worshipped the ground she walked on.
Yet yesterday, her daughter had said just that, actually. It had been one of many jokes between them, and Nicki hadn't thought to question what it had been about.
"Onika. I've know you all your life. I've hated you for most of it, because you were always too perfect. Too beautiful. And I knew nothing so perfect and beautiful could be meant for me. Then your daughter opened the door and I haven't looked back. I'd never look back, because you and Blue are mine. Mine to cherish. Mine to have and hold.
* * *
Beyonce
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She was naked, unprepared, and hadn't brushed her teeth, but none of that mattered.
The moment didn't matter. She realized then she could have asked her any day over the last five years. The words would have been the same.
"I love you more than life itself. Will you be my wife?"
She didn't know what she'd expected. A fit of tears hadn't been it, though. She cried. She cried, and cried, and cried, more than Blue had a couple of months back, more than she'd ever seen her cry.
Beyonce froze, panic seizing her. Shit. Shit! What was she supposed to do now?
