One Night Only (Complete)

mcDonald's

"Where we going Daddy?" You pull on your heels while he puts on his shirt and follow him from the room. He stops in front of a neighboring door and whips out his phone, dialing a number. It sounds like the person on the other end was sleep too.

"Bring my keys to the door," Killmonger demands and hangs up. Sure enough the door cracks and a hand comes out offering the keys. "Do you need me to drive you," the yawning voice asks. "I don't need you to do shit but go back to sleep," Killmonger counters, grabbing the keyring.

"Be safe and please don't do anything reckless," the man cautions. Killmonger was known by the news outlets to be unpredictable and based on your experience so far you'd come to the same conclusion, but his spontaneity was a plus. It had led to him choosing you.

"Nigga go to bed," Killmonger says folding and closing the man into his room. He grabs your hand and tugs you toward the elevator. You pass a large mirror mounted on the wall and still, silently freaking the fuck out. Your hair is wild and your makeup is smudged. "I look like the damn Joker! You'd really let me go out like this?"

"Keeps the niggas away."

"Ain't no damn niggas it's almost 3 AM," you snark.

"Then it don't matter."

You meet his eyes in the mirror and it looks like he's fighting a laugh, but after seeing your serious face he agrees to take you to a bathroom near the lobby to wipe your face.

-

Bedside you in the mirror of the women's restroom is a very amused Killmonger.

"This isn't what I had in mind," you reach to guide his hand away from your eye as he scrubs at your face with a damp paper towel.

"Move your hand, I got this."

He removes the makeup as best as he can and finger-combs your flat ironed tresses into submission, tucking one side behind your ear like you had it. Once he catches your brief blissful expression from his attention to the scalp he'd earlier abused, his fingers bless your scalp with a quick massage.

"On muvas this feels so good," you moan at the magic of his fingertips.

"The fuck are you talking about.. this damn DC talk."

"DMV," you correct, and then his hand is pulling yours, leading the way from the bathroom and down the hall, by the desks, and out the door into the cool night air. The air hugs the skin on your arms and legs giving you goosebumps and your thoughts travel back to that balcony...

"What were you going to to with that belt back in the room? You were holding it like you were ready to use it," you smile at his back as he guides you through the night to the parking lot.

"Oh don't worry, I'm a still use it on ya disobedient ass."

"I wasn't asking like that, I ain't me-"

"Mhm," he cuts you off and you can tell from the contour of his profile that his look is smug. Your jaw drops, your face incredulous.

"Oh nah, you think I want my ass beaten like a lil five year old child who drew on a wall?"

"Yep," he walks another step then spins to grab the sides of your head, kissing your forehead, "I knew you were into that aggressive shit the first time I kissed you," he smirks devilishly turning away to enter his car.