She's Just My Baby Momma B.E

chapter 3

"when i wake up i see... you ... with me"

billie pov

I wake up to the gentle warmth of sunlight filtering through my window, casting a golden glow over the room. The soft breathing of the girl lying next to me, her body draped over mine, is the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. Slowly, I slip away from her embrace, careful not to disturb her peaceful slumber, and make my way to the bathroom.

As I relieve myself, I glance at my phone, greeted by a barrage of missed calls and texts from my management. A sinking feeling settles in my stomach as I realize I'm late for a meeting. With a sigh, I grab the nearest bottle within reach and wash away the pounding migraine with a generous swig of alcohol.

Returning to the room, I find her awake, stretching languidly in the morning light. She looks breathtaking, the sunlight dancing over her curves, casting shadows that accentuate her beauty.

"Why is it that you're always the last to leave?" I remark, lighting a blunt to ease the tension in my head.

"Why do you let me?" she counters, taking the blunt from my lips and inhaling deeply. Her naked form moves gracefully, tempting me with every step. The sight of her perky breasts and round, voluptuous ass is enough to make my pulse quicken.

"Come take a shower with me," I suggest, trailing after her as she heads towards the bathroom.

"My ride's already outside," she replies, beginning to dress.

"Who's picking you up? Where are you going? I'll take you home on the way to my meeting," I offer, puzzled by her sudden departure.

"What's my name?" she interrupts, her tone playful yet firm.

"Um, you're... it's... Naira," I stammer, realizing my mistake.

"That's right," she confirms, taking one final hit from the blunt before passing it back to me. "Same time next week?" she adds, flashing me a mischievous smile as she exits the room. The question lingers in the air, leaving me wondering if she's my slut or if I'm simply another notch on her belt.

As she disappears from view, leaving me alone with the faint scent of her lingering in the air, I'm left to ponder the fleeting nature of our encounters. With a shake of my head, I push aside the thoughts and focus on the task at hand—getting ready for the meeting.

After a quick shower to clear my head, I dress hastily, throwing on whatever clothes are within reach. Grabbing my keys and phone, I head out the door, intent on salvaging what's left of the day.

The drive to the meeting is a blur of thoughts and emotions, the events of the previous night playing on repeat in my mind. Despite my best efforts to push them aside, memories of her touch and the intoxicating scent of her skin linger, leaving me restless and distracted.

"Billie, the past month you've been acting erratically and showing up late to all of your meetings. We have a tour coming up, you can't keep acting in this manner," my assistant's voice is laced with irritation as I stumble into the meeting room. I consider being honest with him, maybe even confessing about all the girls I've been with—his stepdaughter included.

"I have other stuff going on too, you know," I mumble, brushing off his accusatory tone as I take a seat at the table.

"You mean the parties every night and the heavy drug use," he snaps back, his frustration palpable. "You reek of marijuana and alcohol."