When a 22 year old wedding planner gets booked to plan a wedding for NBA star Ja Morant and his millionaire fiancée, she finds herself being the only thing from keeping them from saying, "I do." With family secrets and affairs, the woman has to try...
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"I feel so blessed," Ja says, as his hands rest on my thighs. I rub the pretty white bubbles up and down his arms to cover up his tattoos and then wipe them off.
"Why you say that," I ask him, as I shift my butt lower on his member to make myself comfortable. We've agreed to no more meeting in my office or where anyone else can just walk in. So he's been coming over to my house every night and spending the nights with me.
"Because, I'm the only person that gets to see you like this," he says, kissing my cheek. "All these other niggas see you dolled up, dressed like you finna go put a nigga behind bars or sum. But me, I get to see you bare faced, relaxed."
"Hmm," I say, closing my eyes and enjoying the sound of his voice.
"I get to watch your eyes roll back every night, and feel your tight pussy around my dick. I get to hear you scream my name. I get to watch you sleep peacefully," he continues.
"You watch me sleep," I say with a laugh and he chuckles.
"Don't make it weird, Y/n," he says, kissing down my neck.
"I'm not. But you just admitted to watching me sleep. How I know you not gonna eat me?"
"Oh imma eat you all right," he replays, slipping his hand on my vagina and nibbling on my ear.
"Stop it." I giggle as he rests his head on my shoulder.
"This is the only time in my life where I get to be the real Ja," he states, caressing my body with his hands. "You my peace."
I smile with my eyes clothes, picturing myself in Ja's arms forever. Loving him. Touching him. Coming home to him everyday. Going to his games and cheering him on. That's would be a perfect life. But that can't be. Because he'll be with her, forever.
"I love you," he whispers in my ear.
"That's not gonna change our situation Ja," I reply, leaning into him more. "You're still gonna marry her."
"Why you always gotta bring it up," he says, sitting up which forces me to do the same. "Every time we chilling and we cool you gotta fuck it up with that wedding shit."
"Because," I say, getting out the tub.
"Because what," he asks. "We been over this a million and one times. I don't want her. I want you. She get my last name, and a ring, but you got my heart. You have all of me. I'm yours."
I just wrap a towel around my body and begin to wash my face. I hear him get out the tub and see him dry himself. "Why you gotta keep bringing it up mama? Why can't we just forget about it until it's necessary?"
I still remain silent, and rinse the soap off my face. He stands behind me and wraps his arms around me. "Talk to me Y/n. Tell daddy why you can't leave well enough alone."
