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“That’s called time management.”

Ebony screamed.

“AVERY!”

I started laughing.

I pulled into the Garden State Motor Lodge off Route 22 in Union a little over twenty minutes later.

Me and Xay had been coming here for our little midday meetups for months.

Nothing fancy.

Outside doors. Faded numbers on every room. Curtains that never quite closed right. Parking lot full of cars that looked like everybody inside was doing exactly what the fuck we were doing.

I parked two spaces down from Xay’s Charger, grabbed my purse and went straight to the room number he’d texted me.

Not twenty minutes later, this nigga already had me bent over, face buried in my ass eating it.

“Oh, fuck,” I moaned, gripping the back of the chair. “Damn, Xay. Shit.”

This nigga always was on some freak shit.

Tongue in my ass like he paid rent back there. Hands spreading my cheeks, eating it sloppy, nasty, loud. I felt his spit running down, felt him sucking, licking, pushing that tongue deeper.

“Fuck, baby, eat that ass just like that.”

He groaned into it.

I pushed back on his face.

“Yeah…just like that…shit…”

He slapped my ass and kept going. His nasty ass was moaning like he loved that shit more than I did.

I came here with every intention of asking this nigga about Heather as soon as I walked through the door.

That shit was still on my motherfucking medulla.

I didn’t give a fuck.

Me and Heather had been cool at her baby shower. Hugged. Talked. Everything normal.

But I still had my fucking suspicions.

Especially after watching her and Xay talking.

And especially after Halloween.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby,” I breathed. “Eat that shit. Fuck.”

He stayed down there until my legs started shaking.

Then I felt him stand behind me.

Still bent over that cheap-ass motel chair.

I heard his belt.