All Chapters of Talk to me nicely : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Daisy pulled away for long enough to direct him to the bedroom, punctuating each instruction with a kiss to his jaw. Johnson pushed into the bedroom and lay her back on the bed, sinking to his knees before her and running his hands up her legs. Daisy’s head fell back against the mattress, a groan tumbling from her lips, as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her leggings and pulled them from her in one sweep.His beard had grown a little unruly since she’d last seen him, his face ticklish against her skin as he brushed his lips over her thighs.“I’ve missed you so much, love,” he murmured, his voice rumbly against her. “But fuck, I’ve missed this too.”Johnson claimed her pussy with his mouth like a man starved, his tongue pressing into her and fucking her ruthlessly. Daisy twisted in his grip, the sheets silky and cool beneath her burning body. It had been a while since she’d even touched herself, unable to stop the memories of the man on hisknees before her when she did, and s

Morning crept gently into Chelle’s apartment, pale sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains and settling across the cluttered coffee table. Two mugs sat abandoned beside an open carton of strawberry yogurt, a pile of fashion magazines, and Daisy’s laptop blinking with unread emails.Chelle stood near the window, arms folded tight, watching the city wake up below. Cars crawled through traffic. A street vendor arranged oranges into neat pyramids. Life moved with its usual certainty — as if nothing monumental had been placed in her hands the night before.Behind her, Daisy squinted into her mug.“You’ve been staring out that window for ten minutes,” she muttered. “Either jump or tell me what’s wrong.”Chelle didn’t turn.“Damon asked me to move to France with him.”Silence.Then a sharp clink as Daisy dropped her spoon into the mug.“He did what?”Now Chelle turned.“He wants me to come with him. In three days.”Daisy blinked once. Twice.Then she sat up straighter, pushing her braids

Chelle stopped mid-pace, then started again, the soft carpet barely muffling her restless steps. She crossed Daisy’s room like a pendulum—window to dresser, dresser to door—hands flexing, unclenching.“As much as I want to start fresh,” she said, exhaling hard, “I’m just… not ready to go yet.”Daisy, stretched across her bed, lifted two fingers in the air. “I thought it was settled,” she said, drawing out the word, eyebrows raised for emphasis.Chelle huffed a quiet laugh and finally slowed, planting herself by the mirror. She tilted her head, fingers tapping thoughtfully against her chin. “I know. I did say that.”Silence lingered for a beat before Daisy pushed herself upright. “Then why don’t we go together?”Chelle’s lips parted instinctively. “My internship—”“—ends in less than two months,” Daisy cut in gently but firmly. “You can’t keep hiding behind that.”Chelle looked away, her reflection suddenly too honest. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I just… I always imagined leaving as

The gravel crunched softly beneath the tires as the car rolled into the compound, the sound cutting through the quiet afternoon like a familiar knock on the door of memory. Lilian paused mid-step on the veranda, one hand still resting on the carved wooden railing. She didn’t need to look up immediately—she already knew that sound. She always did.Sunlight caught the edges of her silk robe as she turned, her eyes narrowing slightly against the glare just as the car door opened.“Hey, baby,” Simon said as he stepped out, shrugging off his jacket. His voice carried the weight of travel—tired, clipped. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you were leaving for France.”Before Lilian could respond, Johnson practically bounced out of the car, grinning like a child let loose in a candy store. “We changed our mind,” he announced, throwing his hands into the air as if unveiling a grand surprise.Simon shot him a sharp look. “For now,” he added, the words landing with precision, final bu

Simon arrived long after the office had settled into its usual hum. His assistant barely waited for him to set his bag down before stepping closer.“Good morning, Mr. Simon.”“Morning.”She hesitated, then lowered her voice. “Ma Camila has been here for over an hour.”His brow lifted. “She has?”“Yes. Waiting room—by your office.”Simon nodded and headed down the hall. When he pushed the door open, Camila looked up from her phone.She rose smoothly to her feet, a smile already playing on her lips. Her hair spilled down her back, glossy and dark, her crossed leg uncurling as she closed the distance between them.“Well,” she said, wrapping her arms around him, “look who finally decided to show up.”Simon chuckled, returning the embrace. “So we’re hugging now?”She pulled back just enough to look at him. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends hug.”Inside his office, she followed without asking, then perched herself on the edge of his desk. Her gaze lingered on him—steady, unreadable, far to