Vim Jamaica Avenue Novels & Stories

"No way. Fuck that third floor. That's for addicts and whores. We're neither, not yet at least. Later, bro." "Later." Drake hung up and dropped the phone into his bag. Kadia was the hottest night club in all of New York. Getting in was going to be a bitch, unless you were a DeMarco or a Castaletta. Good thing Drake was both.

There has to be a way! Jasmine! Right then, a name hit her head. Of course, Jasmine might be the solution to her problem, Her childhood friend. ****** The Maiden Hotel, also known as Slut delivery.. Jasmine sat on a delicate sofa in a dimly lit room with a cigarette on her left hand serenely going through some files before her. She put the cigarette in her mouth and puffed out a thick cloud of smoke. It wasn't easy maintaining a business of this nature, yet she had committed her whole life to this business and had made a name for herself.

The days were getting cooler as fall wound down to winter. Gabe lived a short distance away at 400 Fifth Avenue, a sleek, modern residential development, while Jace lived on the Upper West Side closer to Mia—she was convinced she was why Jace had never moved closer to his office. And Ash lived at 1 Morton Square, which overlooked the Hudson River.

We’ve got an exciting itinerary filled with beaches, jungles, waterfalls and lots of smiles. I promise I won’t sound so sappy in the actual blog, but it’ll be fun to write (and hopefully to read) and Jamaica will be the topic of my first post. So if you’re ever curious, please stop in and give it a read and subscribe if you’d like! I heard something drop and the sound of shattering glass in the other room. “Babe, are you okay in there? Did something break?” I called out. “I was pouring us some wine but I think Brian knocked the glass out of my hand. He’s probably still upset at me for stealing his girl,” he yelled back.

He was fairly sure he knew exactly what it meant and was choosing not to examine it, which was, he recognized, becoming a pattern where Mara Voss was concerned. Sunday dinner at Jade's was in Astoria, which meant the N train, which meant forty minutes of sitting with himself and his thoughts, which was forty minutes longer than he preferred lately. Jade's apartment smelled like garlic and the specific warmth of a home that was actually lived in — throw blankets on every surface, her daughter Maya's drawings taped to the refrigerator, a dog-eared stack of library books on the coffee table. It was the kind of home that made his own apartment feel architectural by comparison. Functional. Well-d

Isabelle agreed with a sigh. She didn’t know how she’d go about handling her mom’s arrival but she would figure it out. ************************************** Sammy pulled in at the fancy gate of a mansion in one of the fanciest neighbourhoods in LA. He punched in the code at the gate and it slid open. “Welcome to Havana, my brother. Here, all your relaxation fantasies will be fulfilled,” Sammy said with a mysterious smile on his face. “Where are we, Sammy? Whose house is this?” Josh asked as they drove into the large compound.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN — CITY LIGHTS AND QUIET MOMENTS It was a Friday evening, and Lagos was alive with the soft hum of nightlife. Yara had just finished a long week at Indigo Glow and was feeling unusually drained. Her phone buzzed: “Meet me at the riverside? Just a walk, nothing fancy.” —Jamal She hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “I’ll be there in ten.” When she arrived, Jamal was leaning against the railing, silhouetted by the golden glow of streetlights reflecting on the water.

I groan, feeling my erection pressing against my zip; they really could have picked another time. “Enter,” Maija answers as the knock comes again. A flight attendant opens the door and informs us we’re landing soon. “Finally, come on, Hani, you can tell me now that we’re here.” I scowl as she slips back into my lap, still annoyed we were interrupted. “Hani…” she calls, giving me those doe eyes, which makes my heart melt. “We’re in Jamaica,” I finally reply. “Jamaica!!” She squeals as she looks through the window at the island below. Then, she turns around and kisses me again.

And a crazy fuck called a brother won't take that away from me. " The fact that you're rich doesn't give you a right to threaten people." I chuckle and stop for a red light. I turn to look at Damon and smirk. " I wouldn't go back to the military if I were you. Cause you suck. Quit talking about my business and mind yours. That's if you have any." I scoff and resume driving. I park my car in the parking lot and get out. Jhene lives in a penthouse in Buffalo. That's like a long drive for me. We enter the elevator once it arrives. I lean against the transparent walls of the elevator and i was grateful Damon didn't start a conversation.

Jamaal and mystery man. ******