“Are you gonna do this forever, or are you actually gonna retire in a few years like you told me when we first met?” I took his hand, eyeing the many intricate tattoos, but mainly the one of my name inside of a heart, which he’d gotten in Vegas. It was a nice size, hard to miss, which I loved. I, in turn, got his on the front, right side of my pelvis. That was where he’d requested it. The artwork all over his body looked so good against his deep caramel complexion. If there was ever a Sexiest Hood Nigga Alive award, it would go to Asif St. Thomas. “Not forever, hell nah.” He shook his head
...more
