AG

Nova looked up at me through her lashes, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "I've had a lot of practice," she said, her voice low and seductive. i nodded, and moved to the couch on my side gesturing for her to come sit with me.

"Come here," I said, patting the seat next to me. "Let's talk about this fire you've got." She wet her lips seductively. and joined me.

Nova walked over to me slowly and sat, her thigh brushing against mine. I gently removed her blazer. "I've been curious to see the rest of your dress. May I?"

She nodded. "Be my guest."

With a grace that seemed almost unreal, she stood and began to spin slowly in front of me. The material of her dress clung to her—it was all sheer. I saw her lingerie. This girl is going to be the death of me.

Her back was to me. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes dark with desire. "You like?"

I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. "Perfect," I managed to croak out.

Nova sat down next to me, crossing her legs. Those high heels she had on had to be killing her. I knew from experience that women usually kicked those things off as soon as they walked through the door. So, I took the liberty of leaning over and unbuckling the first strap. She glanced at me, her eyebrow quirking up in surprise.

"Let me help you with this," I murmured, my voice thick with want. She didn't protest as I carefully slid the shoe off her foot, revealing a tiny, perfectly pedicured foot with symmetrical toes. I couldn't help but admire the way the polish gleamed in the soft light. She watched me, her breath hitching as I repeated the process with the other shoe.

"Thank you," she said, her voice a little breathless.

"My pleasure," I replied, taking her foot in my hand and giving it a gentle rub. Her skin was like velvet, and she let out a soft moan of relief as I worked the tension out of her arch. Her toes curled slightly, and I had to fight the urge to lean in and kiss them.

Nova leaned back into the couch, her eyes half-closed as she enjoyed the sensation. "You're good at this," she murmured.

I smirked. "It's all about knowing the right spots," I said, my thumb stroking the soft pad of her foot. "And I've got a knack for finding them."

She flickered her eyes to mine. I just shook my head. and placed her feet back on the floor before I did or said some bullshit.

Nova took a deep breath and sat up straight. "So, why did you bring me here, Artis?" she asked her voice a mix of curiosity and nerves.

I leaned back on the couch, studying her. "I wanted to get to know you better..spend some alone time with you," I said, my voice low and sincere. "You're... different, Nova. You've got fire, passion, and you don't take shit—I love that." "You're feminine although disagreeable sometimes; you're intelligent and you have skills in that studio." I dropped my gaze. I feel my chest tightening. I don't know what it is about her.

Her eyes searched mine, looking for the lie she must have been expecting. "And you thought bringing me to your penthouse was the way to do that?" she asked, her voice a challenge.

I chuckled, pouring another round of drinks for us both. "This is where I'm most comfortable," I said, handing her the glass. "Where I can be myself."

Nova took the drink, her eyes never leaving mine. "Do you want to fuck me?" she asked bluntly, no hint of shyness in her voice.

I almost choked on my whiskey. "Damn, Nova," I coughed out, setting the glass down. "Is that what you think this is about?"

Her gaze was unwavering. "Isn't it?"

I leaned back, considering her. She was playing a dangerous game, and I had to decide if I was going to let her call the shots or if I was going to take control. "Nova, you're an amazing woman, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to you," I admitted. "But this isn't just about that."

Her expression softened slightly, the challenge in her eyes fading. "Then what is it about?" she asked, her voice softer now.

I took a deep breath, feeling the whiskey warm my chest. "It's about connection," I said, my voice earnest. "It's about finding someone who gets you, who sees beyond the bullshit and the fame. Someone who can handle...me."

Nova took a sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving mine. "And you think that's me?"

"Yes, I've been thirsty to find out." I said, leaning closer. "And if the chemistry that's evident between us translates to other...aspects of our lives, then who am I to ignore it?"

"What if it does?" she whispered. The air between us crackled with anticipation. I could feel the heat rising in my blood, my dick swelling at the thought of her, she's so fucking sexy."Then we explore it," I said, my voice steady despite the raging storm inside me. She nodded thoughtfully, and leaned back against my shoulder. I kind of snaked my arm around her. "You hungry?" I asked, trying to ease the tension.

Nova looked up at me, a smirk playing on her lips. "I could eat," she said, her eyes glinting with mischief. "But I'm not sure if I'm talking about food." ...." I'm kidding." she quipped.

you're not kidding, sexy ass

I chuckled, my hand gently rubbing her shoulder. "I can order in," I offered, trying to keep the conversation light. Whatever you want."

"Whatever you have a taste for is fine with me," she said.

Her words sent a thrill through me, but I kept my cool. "Alright, I'll make a call," I said, standing up. I walked over to the phone, but I couldn't help but admire the way her dress hugged her curves. When I turned back, she watched me with a knowing smile.

I dialed the number for my favorite takeout place, ordering a feast that would have been better suited for a small gathering than just the two of us. But when I hung up, she was standing by my piano, so I played for her.

Her eyes lit up as the first notes filled the air. "You play?" she asked a hint of surprise in her voice. "Nova, really?" "Of course, I play."

"You want to learn?"

Nova nodded eagerly, and I gestured for her to sit beside me on the bench. I placed her hands on the keys, guiding her through a simple melody. Her fingers danced over the ivory, clumsy at first but gradually finding their rhythm. How she focused, her brows furrowed in concentration, was incredibly sexy.

As the music filled the room, our tension grew more potent, like a fine wine left to breathe. Her scent, a delicate mix of coconut and vanilla, surrounded me, intoxicating and addictive. With every note I played, I felt the distance between us shrink, the air thickening with desire.

Nova

Just as I got the hang of the melody, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Artis's hand paused over the keys, and he gave me a knowing look. "It's my doorman," he said, his voice smooth as velvet. "The food's here."

He stood up, his movements fluid and graceful. The way his muscles rippled under his shirt made my stomach flutter. "Come," he said, holding out his hand. "Let's eat."

The food had arrived, and the doorman had spread it out on the marble countertop in the kitchen. The aroma of jerk chicken, coconut rice, and plantains filled the room, making my mouth water. Artis had clearly read my mind—it was exactly what I was craving.

As he handed me a plate, his fingers brushed against mine, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm. "You okay?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah," I managed to say, my voice a little shaky. "Just...you know."

He nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Take your time," he said, his eyes lingering on my face before he turned to his own plate.

We ate in a comfortable silence, the sounds of the city outside muffled by the thick windows. The food was heavenly, a symphony of flavors that danced on my tongue. With every bite, I felt myself relaxing, letting the walls I'd built around myself crumble just a little more. He was worth the small effort. It's Artis fucking Greer the legendary man, who's known for his work in the music industry, and known even more for his good looks.

After we finished eating, I set my plate aside and took a deep breath. "I need to freshen up," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Where's your bathroom?"

Artis's eyes raked over me, a hint of hunger in their depths. "It's through there," he said, pointing to a hallway. "But it's attached to my bedroom."

My heart skipped a beat. "Okay," I said, standing up. He led the way, and I followed my heart racing. The room was dimly lit, the king-sized bed inviting and sprawling. The bathroom was just as luxurious, all chrome and marble, with a shower big enough for two.

Once inside, I took a moment to compose myself, checking my makeup and running my fingers through my hair. I knew what was happening—what could happen—and I was both terrified and exhilarated by the prospect. When I emerged, Artis was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice a whisper. I nodded, "Yes." He took my hand and led me back into the living room. The music had changed, and the tempo was slower and more sensual. He sat back down at the piano, his fingers gliding over the keys, playing a melody that seemed to wrap around me like a warm embrace.

Then he started singing. Oh, my gah, that's why he's the panty dropper. His voice was like melted chocolate, smooth and rich, with just the right amount of rasp. He sounds like Tyrese but with a throaty rasp. The words were a declaration of desire, a promise of passion. I felt myself getting lost in the music, my body responding to the rhythm, my heart racing. Those dimples of his are more pronounced when he sings. I could listen to him, and watch him all day.

He was playing one of his hits, but the lyrics had changed. They were about me. I knew then that this wasn't just about sex. Artis was opening himself up to me, showing me a side of him that very few people had probably never seen. The vulnerability in his eyes was like a punch to the gut, making me want to drop to my knees and worship him.

But instead, I found myself moving closer, my hips swaying to the beat. I couldn't help it. The music was in my blood, and he was playing my heart's tune. When the song ended, I stepped closer, my hand resting on his shoulder. "That was...amazing," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Artis looked up at me, his eyes dark and intense. "I meant every word," he said, his voice low and rough. Before I could respond, he spun around on the piano bench, pulling me down onto his lap. His arms wrapped around me, his breath warm. "You ready ..to go home?" he asked softly.

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my chest. "Home?" I repeated, the word feeling like a promise. "Yeah," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea, and you need beauty rest." "No," I shook my head. "I'm not ready to go." He sighed a heavily, a relieved sigh. He stood up, gently taking my hand in his, and led me back to the couch. With a flick of his wrist, the lights dimmed even further, and the crackling fireplace cast flickering shadows across the room.

The warmth of the fire danced across his chiseled features, making his dreads seem like molten gold in the glow. He sat down and kicked his sneakers off. Pulling me onto his lap as the plush couch cushioned us both. His eyes searched mine, seeking confirmation of my words. "You're sure?" he asked, his voice thick with restrained desire.

"Yes," I replied, my voice a whisper of confidence. With trembling hands, I began to unravel his dreadlocks, one by one. Each strand was like a thread of pure desire, and as I touched them, I could feel his body respond. His broad chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, his muscles tightening under my fingertips. The intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, a heady mix of power and surrender.

His eyes fluttered shut as I played with his hair and massaged his scalp. "You know I could pay you to do this every night for me, " he said sleepily. I giggled. "Nah, you don't have to pay me," I whispered. I placed a gentle kiss on his third eye. He grinned. Those dimples melted my heart.

He leaned back into the couch, pulling me closer, my legs draped over his thighs. "Tell me more about yourself, Nova," he said, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through me. "What makes you tick?"

"Being creative, art, poetry, music. hell, DIY."

I said. He nodded, stroking my thigh with his thumb. "That's what I thought," he murmured, his eyes on my mouth. "You're a woman of many talents."

"what about you," I asked. "What makes AG? tick"

He cocked his head slightly, his hand still stroking my thigh. "Music," he said simply. "It's in my blood, in my soul. It's the only thing that's ever truly understood me." His eyes grew distant, lost in a memory. "But you," he continued, focusing on me again, "you make me want to share more than just music." I smiled, then leaned in close to his ear. "What else would you like to share, Artis?"

His breath hitched, and his hand tightened on my thigh. "Everything," he murmured. I want to share everything with you." His words sent a thrill through me, and I could feel the heat between us growing more intense. "Everything?" He nodded eagerly. He stared off into the distance and wet those lips. I nuzzled his neck. "Penny for your thoughts?" I asked playfully.

He turned to look at me, his eyes dark with passion. "I'm just thinking about how perfect this moment is," he said, his voice gruff. "I really enjoy having you in my presence, Nova."

I felt warmth spread through my chest, my heart swelling with hope. "This is a great moment, " I said, placing my hand over his heart. He sighed.

His thumb traced lazy circles on my thigh, sending shivers down my spine. The fire crackled in the background, the only sound in the otherwise quiet penthouse.

We talked for hours, sharing stories and laughs, our bodies entwined in a dance of comfort and longing. His touch grew bolder, his hand sliding up to cup my cheek, and our eyes met in silent understanding.