The private jet came to a halt, and I lifted the sleeping toddler out of the car seat and into my arms. The assistants I brought with me would worry about things like the luggage and car seats. I had better things to focus on. Like getting my clan out and into the waiting car.

“Jazzy, hold your brother’s and sister’s hands for me.”

“Sure thing Mama T,” Jazzy murmured as she finished sending a text and pocketing her phone. I swear that thing was more of a nuisance than it was helpful. We had barely landed before she had it on and was communicating with God knows who.

I smiled at her when she called me Mama T. Even though she wasn’t my flesh and blood, I loved her like she was. Monica had no idea what she was missing out on. She still had her weekend visitation, but other than that she didn’t put in more than the minimal amount of effort necessary to raise her daughter. I felt bad for Jazzy and did everything I could to make her feel loved the way she should.

“Malika and Marcus, hold your sister’s hand. And no running,” I added as an afterthought. Those two were crazy. At four and five, they weren’t far apart in age and were known to get into trouble wherever trouble could be had. I often joked they were Thing One and Thing Two from Dr. Seuss’ books. My little mischief causers.

Malika was the product of one hot, sweaty night of sex when Jay came home from an extended time on Plado’s tour. I had been breastfeeding Marcus and we didn’t take the time for precautions. Jayden, our eighteen month old daughter, was planned however. Lots of baby making practice went into her conception. Lots and lots and lots. It was memorable, that’s for sure.

We exited the plane and Jerome helped me load up the kids into the waiting SUV. Thank heavens for third row seats. I refused to rock a minivan. Now before you judge, I test drove one and even had Jay’s blessing if I wanted it. I just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t who I was. I was a sporty convertible, large SUV type of girl. And that was who I was going to keep being as long as I could. Which was why I had an Escalade for when I had the kids and a Bentley convertible for when it was just me.

I climbed into the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt. One last glance in the back assured me everyone was buckled in and ready to go. I gave Jerome a slight nod and he put the car in drive.

“How’s he doing?” I asked Jerome.

“He’s good. No nerves at all. Or at least that I can tell,” he replied.

No nerves at all? I had no idea how I could be a complete mess of nerves while he was cool as a cucumber. Butterflies had been dancing around in my stomach all day. I barely slept last night thanks to my anxiety.

I took several deep breaths to try to relax before deciding that I needed conversation to keep my mind off my nerves. I was too used to tuning the kids out for that background noise to help.

“How’s Lucy?” Much to my surprise Lucy stuck after all these years. Mike was still whoring around, but Jerome was settled and married. I was proud of him.

“She’s real good.” A slow grin spread across Jerome’s face. “She’s just starting to show and let me tell you, she’s becomin’ one helluva wildcat with her hormones.”

“I know how that goes,” I muttered under my breath. Whenever I was pregnant, Jay had his hands full. Morning, noon and night I wanted it. He even joked once that he never thought he’d be tired of sex, but that I was leading him to it. I let out a soft giggle remembering that conversation, and how I ended it by giving him something more productive to do with his mouth.

“And Sylvia’s house is all set for tonight?”

“Yup. Everything’s baby proofed and she’s waiting for us.” His tone held amusement at how anal I was when it came to the kid’s safety. It had been a few years since there was an infant on the move in her house so I was being extra cautious.

“Good.” I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat. It felt like forever until we arrived at my mother-in-law’s house.

Yes, I said mother-in-law. Jay finally put a ring on it.

Right before Marcus was born, we flew to a remote island, and we were married with just our family and close friends in attendance. Seems he had a change of heart and decided we needed to be a real family before his son was born. He had a whole speech planned on how he wanted his son to grow up knowing that his father showed his mother respect and love. He wanted to set an example on how women should be treated like queens and the first way to do that was to give me his last name.

He so did not need that speech.

I would have been completely happy even if we never married, but the fact that he came to that conclusion on his own meant the world to me.

“Nana!” Malika squealed at the top of her lungs when she saw her grandmother exit the house. The car was barely stopped and both kids were demanding out of their booster seats at decibels that should be illegal for kids to speak in. Jazzy reached over the back seat and helped them both out. Doors flew open and then they were nothing but little streaks of color darting across the lawn.

Jayden started squirming and making her ‘I’m about to cry’ noise, so I quickly got out and rounded the car to get her. I lifted her out of her seat, bouncing her and cooing to her as I joined the ruckus on the front lawn.

“Give me that baby,” Sylvia demanded.

“She’s hungry,” I informed her after the exchange. “There’s food in the bag. Zeke should be behind us with all the luggage. Trina is going to stay behind in case you need help.”

“We’ll be fine. Stop worrying. I know how to take care of my grandbabies.” She gingerly kissed Jayden’s dark hair.

“Just try not to spoil them too much,” I half joked. The kids knew Nana would let them do and eat whatever they wanted. It was an argument I gave up on a long time ago.

“Shoo, child! And give my boy a big kiss from me when you see him. Let him know I’m real proud of him.” Her voice held conviction, and I could see a shimmer of tears in her eyes. I knew all too well how all-encompassing a mother’s love was.

I nodded and kissed her cheek before kissing all the kids goodbye. I joined Jerome in the car, and then we were off—on our way to Madison Square Garden, where my husband was about to do a sold out performance.

It had been years since he did a solo concert. His time had been spent on producing and the occasional collaboration. But when he was approached by a youth organization in Harlem, struggling to help inner city kids, he jumped at the chance to do a concert that would raise money for them. All of the ticket sales for tonight’s show were being donated so kids like Jay, who wanted out of the projects but needed the help, would benefit. We had even bought out a section of seats for a group of kids to attend.

As we entered the back entrance of the arena, you could feel the buzz of energy in the air. It was electrifying and contagious. Tiny hairs on my body stood on end. None of the other times I was backstage for an event did it feel like this. Not even when we attended the Grammy’s or the MTV awards. This was on a whole other level.

I spied Jay behind his partially opened dressing room door. He looked good in a pair of baggy jeans and a wife beater. He had a Yankees hat pulled low over his eyes, and I could see his mouth and hands moving as he silently mouthed words to himself.

I gave a tiny knock on the door and pushed it open. My feet immediately took me across the room and into his arms. They wrapped around my waist and pulled me tight against his body. His lips met my lips, and his tongue swept into my mouth and tangled with mine.

When he broke the kiss, he whispered, “I missed you.” And I knew he had. He called me every night and told me so.

It had been a long two and a half weeks with him on the East coast preparing for the show, and me holding down the fort at home. I refused to take Jazzy out of school—even though her mother didn’t seem to care—so the kids and I had to wait to join him. Knowing our history, some might wonder if I was worried about him being gone for so long. And my answer would be no. I learned that I needed to trust him and to believe in what we had. He made his mistakes and I suffered for them, but I knew he made a conscious effort not to put us through that again.

That didn’t mean life was easy. No, I still had my fair share of groupies to contend with, as well as artists who thought he was fair game. We still argued and we still pissed each other off. If we ever stopped, that’s when I’d worry. Because that would mean we gave up on each other.

“I missed you too. Phone sex just wasn’t cutting it anymore. I need my stallion,” I said in a low, needy voice.

Taking my cue, he spun me around and pushed me into the wall. His hands cupped my breasts before running down my front to the button of my jeans.

“Door, Jay,” I got out in between moans when his hand reached in and found the exact spot that needed his attention.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and I mewled in protest when I lost his hand and his warmth at my back.

I looked over my shoulder and saw the door close. Within seconds, he was back and his hands were working my jeans over my hips. I kicked my heels off and used my feet to get my jeans off.

Wanting to see Jay’s face, I turned around in time to see his jeans drop to the floor, and his boxers follow suit. I licked my lips at the sight of his heavy length.

“For as much as I’d love your mouth right now, we don’t have time.” He correctly read my thoughts. “Wrap your legs around me, Mama, and hold on tight.”

His hands went to my ass and lifted me up. Then he slammed me down on him, and I cried out at how good it felt to have him connected to me again.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so damn tight.” He kept up with his steady motion. My back pounded against the wall with each thrust, heightening my arousal. God, I loved it when he gave it to me hard and fast.

“Jay,” I whimpered on the edge of an O that was sure to split me apart with its force. In that position, I never needed additional stimulation to find it. Not with Jay’s size and the way he ground into me with every few thrusts.

“Give it to me. You’re so fucking beautiful. You’re my queen, Tori. Never forget that. Now give me all of you.”

That was all it took. My head flew back. My toes curled, and a string of curse words flew out of my mouth as I came long and hard. Jay wasn’t much further behind me. His lips met mine, and he groaned into my mouth as he released himself inside me.

I wrapped my legs tighter around him as his body weight settled me into the wall. His cock was still deep inside me. I took his hat off and he rested his head on my chest. I ran my hand over his hair as we both came down from our delicious high.

“Ten minutes, Jay.” We both heard said through the door.

Jay groaned. “I like right where I am.”

“Me too, honey. But it’s time for you to make magic.”

He lifted his head and once again blue eyes met green as he communicated how much love he felt for me without needing words.

“I love you, too,” I whispered in answer to his unspoken words, before placing a soft kiss to his lips. “Now set me down so we can quick get ready.”

Once we were cleaned up and dressed, we walked hand-in-hand down the hall towards the entrance to the stage. The closer we got, the energy from the fans became a physical thing you could feel.

He gave me a quick, hard and wet kiss. Then he ran out when his name was announced.

I watched with elation as he welcomed everyone and the crowd’s roar was deafening. There are no words to describe the sense of pride I felt watching him up there. He was born to entertain. He was born to lead. He was born to inspire. I was born to love him. To support him. And to hold him up when he needed it. Some women might not feel like that was enough. But to me it was everything.

What didn’t kill us, made us stronger. Jay and I were a testament to that fact.

My breath caught in my throat, and my heart skipped a beat when a familiar tune filled the arena. A huge smile spread across my face when I heard Jay’s smooth voice sing out the first line of our song. Well, my song.

Looking back on that night, I always smiled. Not just because my husband broke records with how quickly his concert sold out, raised tons of money for a good cause, and made me supremely proud of him. No, it was because that night while we gave ourselves over to the consuming need we had for each other, we also conceived our second son, Lawrence.

* * *

Jay

Looking over at the most beautiful girl in the world standing on the side of the stage, I decided to do something I had originally promised her I wouldn’t. The only reason I so easily agreed with her request was because I figured I could surprise her when the time came.

“Let’s welcome my beautiful wife, Tori to the stage,” I said into the mic, and the crowd went crazy with their approval.

She shook her head and laughed, but she still strutted that fine ass my way. She’s fly as hell, even after three babies, and the way her hips swayed to the beat of the bass made me instantly hard. My diamonds glittered all around her, from her earrings, to her rings, to the necklace she always wore.

Things turned out just like I said they would all those years ago.

I had a down ass woman so fine every man that saw her wanted her. One that stands beside me through my highs and my lows. She looks past my history and forgives me for all my fuck-ups. She makes me laugh, makes me want to be better, and loves me for me. Not for the me with money flowing and an A-list status.

I’d fight to the death and lay down my life for her. Nothing in life would ever be as important as Tori and the family we’re building.

One of the roadies handed Tori a mic and she sang her part of the song I wrote for her like it was nobody’s business. The backup singers had planned for this, so they took a step back and let my girl shine. She had always wanted to perform with me on stage and that’s just one more dream of hers I’m glad I could fulfill, seeing as how she’s fulfilled all of mine.

Her hands ran over my back as she pranced around me, playing the vixen I know her to be when we’re alone.

The crowd was amped to watch us together. It wasn’t something they usually got since we kept our private life just that. Private. Being on the stage together tonight, there was no way to hide the love we had for each other though.

Stepping into Tori’s body, my hand rested on her ass, pulling her tightly to me. Her left hand held the mic while her right held onto my shoulder as we grinded together through the last verse of the song. My fingers traced the tattoo on her lower back of a crown with a J in front of it. She insisted on getting the ink after I came home and surprised her with mine: a crown with a T in front of it.

In the spotlight with the crowd eating out of her palm, Tori’s smile was radiant and her laugh rang out.

God, I loved this woman. My prophecy come to life. My world. My soul mate. My equal.

Some women want a man who will come in and sweep them off their feet. One who will say and do all the right things. I think that shit is whacked. I’d like to see you name one man who is flawless. Nobody walking this earth’s surface is perfect like that. Love stories aren’t meant to be tied up in a neat little bow. They’re meant to show two people who can take the bad and spin it into something good. Who can accept the other for their faults no matter how messy they are. Two people who love each other despite their faults. That isn’t always a pretty picture.

Tori and I may have had our ups and downs, but we wouldn’t have it any other way because perfect is unrealistic and cliché.

When the song ended, my girl took a bow before giving me a tight hug. “You are so in trouble for that,” she whispered in my ear.

She tried to act pissed as she walked off the stage. Just as she was about to exit the neon lights, she turned and blew me a kiss so I knew it was all good. She might have wanted tonight to be about me, not her being thrust into the spotlight, but what she needed to get was that without her… there was no me.

The End