Free Nobody's Girl by Keisha Ervin

relationship was as rocky as the sea they floated upon.
    â€œSay it.” Mills thrust his hips hard.
    The hard pump of his dick sent Farrah into a tailspin. Her body needed more. She had to release the pent-up frustrations inside of her.
    â€œSay it. Say you ain’t gon’ leave.” Mills held each of her thighs in the crook of his arm and pounded until she could hardly breathe.
    â€œI’m not gon’ leave!” Farrah whimpered, feeling her spirit rise from her chest.
    Mills always knew how to take her to the highest height of ecstasy. Within seconds, an orgasm so intense caused Farrah’s legs to shake. A current only to be described as bliss shot through her body. She would pay millions to bottle this feeling up, but nothing lasted forever. As soon as Farrah came down from her orgasmic high, all of the uncertainties she temporarily put on hold came flooding back. Staring up at the sky, Farrah held Mills in her arms. Silently, she wished upon each star that all of their drama would disappear and that they could stay wrapped up in each other’s arms forever.

Chapter 7
    Girl, you know you want this dick.
    â€“A$AP Rocky featuring Kendrick Lamar,
“Fuckin’ Problems”
    Â 
    A month had passed since Farrah and Mills’s wedding and things had gotten somewhat back to normal. The paternity test results still hadn’t come in yet, so on a daily basis nervous energy took up space in the pit of Farrah’s stomach. She couldn’t figure out why it was taking so long. On the Maury Povich show the results came back in no time. When she questioned Mills about it, his answer was that Jade hadn’t taken her part of the test yet.
    Aggravated with Mills, his potential devil-spawn baby, and all of the drama that surrounded them, Farrah decided to have a girls’ night out. Farrah, London, and their secretary Camden each got dressed to the nines and hit up the new hot spot, the Rustic Goat. It was located in the heart of the city where all of the action was, so the ladies were sure to have a good time. Serving up 1990s b-girl realness in a black Brooklyn Nets snapback, a sleeveless T-shirt tied in a knot exposing her toned stomach, leather leggings, and sky-high Giuseppe Zanotti peep toe gold-studded heels, Farrah tossed her long hair to the back and entered the spot as if she owned the place.
    Everybody took notice of her cherry red lipstick, gold lion-head necklace, gold Patek Philippe watch, and Hermès bag as she headed toward the bar. Farrah was dying for a drink and a mojito was sure to do the trick. As soon as the mint-filled alcoholic drink hit her palette, she felt a sense of ease.
    â€œUmm, this is soooo good.” She rolled her head around in a circle.
    â€œMmm-hmm,” London stressed.
    â€œThis place is nice.” Farrah took in the ambiance.
    The Rustic Goat was a humongous space with beautiful aesthetics: Edison bulbs, plush mezzanine nooks, a back poolroom, and artwork, including some by Muhammad Ali. Patrons were able to look on into the open kitchen, where cooks hustled to get out dishes. Farrah couldn’t wait to try the food. The menu consisted of dishes like lobster napoleon with silky avocado and sweet roasted corn, and the southern classic chicken and waffles.
    â€œLet’s get a table,” Camden suggested.
    The girls found a nice round table near the center of the room and posted up. For the first time in a long while Farrah found herself truly having a good time. It felt wonderful to lay all of her troubles to the wayside and let loose.
    â€œOkay, so the other night . . .” London began telling a story. “Me and Teddy were about to have sex and he was giving me head, right.” She started laughing and wouldn’t stop.
    â€œWhat?” Camden started to laugh too.
    â€œI—” London bugged up laughing.
    â€œBitch,” Farrah giggled, hitting her playfully on the arm.
    â€œOkay-okay-okay,” London