𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝟏𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at myself. What the hell did Onika mean by "wear something sexy"? When was the last time I even went on a date? It had to be at least five years ago. Jay and I didn’t go out much because he couldn’t handle people looking at me. His possessiveness was suffocating at times, and I guess that’s why I was so lost now, standing here, trying to figure out what “sexy” meant after all this time.

One thing I knew for sure: I wasn’t about to wear anything that made it easy for Onika to access my... well, anything. So, I settled on something that was me—brown leather pants that hugged my hips perfectly, paired with a nude sheer turtleneck that revealed just enough of my nude bra underneath—well practically everything underneath. I threw on a brown leather coat for good measure and slipped into some black high-heeled boots. My hair was pin-straight, falling effortlessly down my back.

I glanced at my phone to check if Onika had texted, but instead, it lit up with her name on a call. I answered it, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.

“Hey, are you on your way?” I asked.

“I’m outside,” Onika’s voice was smooth, confident.

I smiled a little. “Come in. I put Sir away for you.”

“Oh, okay then,” she replied.

I hung up and walked downstairs, my heart pounding just a bit faster. When I reached the door, Onika was there, lingering at the entrance like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Her eyes swept over me, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction at the way her gaze lingered.

“Is this sexy?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Damn, wifey, you look like a caramel latte,” she said, her voice thick with appreciation.

I frowned, not entirely sure if that was a compliment. “Is that supposed to mean I look good?”

Onika smirked, stepping closer. “You look hella sexy. Come on.”

I smiled, the butterflies in my stomach loosening just a little. “Oh, okay then. Let’s go.”

Onika tilted her head, her eyes twinkling with that mischievous gleam I was starting to recognize. “No hello kiss?”

I rolled my eyes, pretending to be exasperated. “Does everybody your age like kissing this much?”

“I can’t help it. You make me horny every time I see you,” she said with no shame, her lips curving into a smirk that sent a little thrill through me.

I chuckled and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “There. Happy?”

“Seriously?” she said, looking at me like I’d just offended her.

“What? My lipstick,” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

Onika shook her head, grinning. “Now I get why husbands are so miserable with their wives.”