' 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡 𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗔 𝗦𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 ' › D. SWING

Zipper.

Me meeting up with DeVante every other weekend was beginning to become a routine, and I wasn't complaining, I just didn't know why he kept coming back. He had just about every girl in the world at his grasp and yet he kept picking me—[Y/N], the occasional 22-year old video model. I didn't get it. Why me?

Tonight, he was coming by to get me so we can go ride around for a bit and catch up before I had to swing by my mom's place. I was excited to see him, taking my time getting ready so that I would be looking and smelling just right. He had already hinted to me that he liked my hair in its naturally curly state so of course I was going to oblige, pulling my hair back into a ponytail and styling my baby hairs, allowing my long curls to fall midway down my back. I was wearing a simple red dress that hugged my curves along with some black open-toe heels with the single strap over my toes and around my ankles. Grabbing my black clutch, I headed to the front door of my apartment once I heard a knock. Unlocking it, I pulled it open to see him standing on the porch wearing a yellow suit-jacket, black leather pants, and a white shirt along with some black dress shoes. He looked so damn fine. I rarely saw him dress up, a bright smile plastered along my face as my eyes scanned over his anatomy, "Ooh, look at you! Lookin' all sharp and sexy. Gon' head, church boy."

He laughed, shaking his head before his gently grazed against his lips while his eyes gradually traveled down my curvy figure, "Yeah, you lookin' sexy too, baby." He reached forward to grasp onto my hand, lifting it over my head, "Spin around for me." I obliged, slowly turning around until I made a full circle, facing him once again. "Mm", was all he said as he embedded his bottom lip between his teeth.

I blushed, smiling shyly as I stepped forward, "You ready?" He nodded his head and released my hand so that I could close the front door, locking it shortly after then walked with him to his car. It was a red 1995 Lamborghini. One thing you had to understand about DeVante is that he loved cars and motorcycles, always flaunting the latest models and educating you on how it's different from the last one he bought. By now, he had at least three sports cars and two motorcycles. A lot of times, he'd brag about it to K-Ci and JoJo, pissing them off in the process since they weren't making the kind of money that he was. He worked hard for it, though. I'll give him that. He was just becoming a bit cocky about it is all.

I walked around to the passenger side with him and waited as he opened my door, smiling and thanking him as I climbed in before he closed it back and went around to the driver's side, getting in and starting the car. Don't get me wrong, he was still a gentleman regardless of how much money he makes. He was definitely a charmer when it came to the ladies and highly respectful, which was something I loved most about him. The car slowly pulled off, casually cruising down the street while his large hand gripped the steering wheel and the other rested on top my thigh. It was small things like this that made me feel like I was his girl, though I knew I wasn't and I would never be. That wasn't part of the arrangement—it was just a sexual thing. However, I enjoyed how important and wanted he made me feel when we were together.

"So, what's new, baby?", he asked, his eyes focused on the road.

"Nothin' much, I mean, I'm still workin' at that crappy call center but the good thing is I'm supposed to be gettin' a raise soon", I said, looking out the window at the neighborhood we were in.

He glanced over at me with furrowed eyebrows, "Why don't you just become a full-time video model? You got the look for it and know how to play your role well."

"I don't know. It's not really somethin' I want to make a career out of, you know? I feel like I have more to offer than just that. It's just a side hustle until I find a job that will pay me what I'm worth", I replied, turning my head to look at him, who just nodded. "How the tour goin'?", I asked, changing the subject.