Excerpt Two Nights With You: Naima
By Olivia Gaines
Midway through her second boiled egg, breakfast was interrupted by a blond woman sporting a too small bikini which made her assets look like two overripe melons covered by a strip of toilet paper. They bounced as she ran over to the table on her tip toes in high heeled red sandals, too much lipstick and matted weave in her hair. The sarong which clung to her fat injected ass, barely covered the thong bikini bottom as she stopped in front of their table, doing a happy girl spin showing DJ all she had to offer.
“Oh hell no,” Naima said, standing up.
Derrick’s eyes were wide as he watched Naima plant her feet, put her hands on her
hips and stand between him and what he knew to be a fan.
“Stop right there,” Naima said. “You see this man dining with me, yet you will be so bold as to interrupt our meal to attempt to lure him into whatever sordid idea has entered your empty head. What is it you want?”
The blond woman opened her mouth to reveal a row of small white teeth. “I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect. I am such a fan. I only wanted a picture with him.”
“Where is your phone?” Naima asked.
To her shock, the woman stepped around her, rubbed her large breast going down the side of her body. “I seem to have nowhere to put one in this suit,” she said winking at Derrick. Naima reached back onto the table, picked up the remainder of her drink and dashed into the woman’s face.
“Back up chick,” she said. “No disrespect my ass. You are going to mess around and have me snatch that raggedy weave right out of your head. That is my man, so bounce your fake titties back where you came from and spread the word. He is off limits and mine.” The woman stood there in shock, her mouth open, covered in Naima’s margarita, which pissed her off more than the woman treating her as if she were replaceable when and if Derrick got bored.
“Why are you still standing here? Be gone,” Naima said, sitting back down. Picking up the butter knife, she looked at the woman, daring her to make a move. Turning in the ridiculously red high heels, she and her fake boodie, bounced away.
“Damn. Now my drink is gone. Wasted,” she said with a frown as she cut into the egg. Derrick only watched her, not sure what just happened. Naima sat eating her breakfast as if nothing unusual had occurred.
He cleared his throat.
“What?” She asked, biting into her toast.
“You don’t have any act right in you, do you?”
“Nope. I do possess a very large ass check book and I can buy some when the need arises,” she said with a wink.
Derrick chuckled at the freshness of her attitude.
Different. Very different.
“Thank you for that intervention. I became a bit of a recluse because of those types of encounters with women who immediately think I am some sort of sex machine always on the ready,” he said, looking at her.
“Aww man! You are not always on the ready? There goes my weekend plans,” she said with a twist of her lip.
He found himself smiling.
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