~13~

I rolled over, taking a deep breath on a hum. My eyes fluttered open to the blinding white of the room then quickly closed, letting me know I was awake for the day. After another deep breath, I turned onto my side for the nightstand. My hand patted the surface before my eyes cleared of the morning haze. No potion water.

Hmmmmm…

I turned to my left, peering over to the other side of the massive king. No dent and no wrinkles. That’s when I lifted my head to sit up. After falling back on the pillows stacked against the headboard and rubbing my eyes again, I took another deep breath. I glanced around the colossal suite and saw no movement or signs of another human being. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand for the time. It was seven-seventeen in the morning.

Hmmmmm…

That’s when it was clear; Raj hadn’t come to bed last night. The thought was insane as I shifted off the bed for the bathroom. I wondered where he was. Had I said something to turn him off? Was I pushing past his limits? I squatted over the toilet and soughed contently as my bladder relieved itself. I still hadn’t brought up the dick-deflation-gate or the spazzing after being joined in the bed-gate. It was all strange. Emotionally accommodating a man like Raj could be draining. It made me wonder about the type of women he dated. I had to decide right away to not jump to any conclusions as far as his mood.

I washed my hands and face, brushed my teeth then stepped on the scale. Oh, my… One hundred eighty-one pounds. That meant I’d lost fourteen pounds since starting this bossy-weight-loss-thingee with him a few weeks ago. That piece of accomplishment sent joy bursting through my chest, landing me on cloud nine. It was a marvelous day starter. After wrapping myself in a fluffy robe, I headed downstairs for answers—and maybe food.

Damn… I always thought about food!

I plopped down the steps feeling weightless. It may have just been in my head, but I felt lighter. The moment I hit the marble at the base of the stairs, I heard clanging from the kitchen. And that’s where I headed first, seeing the hall brightened from oversized windows in doors. The sun was generous for a wintery morning. It boldly beamed through the elaborate kitchen windows and French doors, showering the floors. I skipped over to the three-tier serving platter stacked with fresh fruits to make my pick.

“Morning, buttercup!”

My bright regard shot up and ahead. Earl turned, first with his head over his shoulder then completely with a tight smile.

“And a good one it is, dear,” I singsonged, ending it on a smile bright as the reigning sun.

“My…” He whistled. “Looks like yours is starting out better than mine has.”

I snorted, neck jerking back. “The swanky itty-bitty food you’ve been feeding me has turned me into the same.” I backed away from the island to give him a full twirl and sashay, my arms reaching above my head to demonstrate the presentation of my body. There was nothing to see in the bulky housecoat, but that logic didn’t stop me. Yeah, I was being cocky about the melted pounds, but Earl seemed to always be about good fun.

“Girl, you’re looking nice and…” His purposeful crestfallen expression was timed perfectly. “…fluffy.” Earl went back to his work of placing the polished pot in a drawer. Laughing, I moved back to the island to decide on my first fruit of the morning. He turned back to me. “I can get your smoothie started.” His chin tossed to the green apple I finally grabbed. “You want me to slice that up for you to eat after your water?”

I’d forgotten about the nasty lemony potion that quickly, which was probably why Raj had it waiting for me by the bed lately. I took a deep breath, annoyed by the reminder of my cleansing commitment. That also cued my thoughts to return to the man himself.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Forgot about that nasty shit.” I plopped my chin on the back of my hands I clasped together with my elbows propped on the countertop.

“Morning, Earl,” someone greeted behind me. Then I felt a tap on my arm. “Hey, Wynter.”

It was Josh, walking in with his gym bag.

“Hey!” I greeted, happy to see him, but right away picking up on his glumness. Josh dropped his work duffle on the floor before pulling out a seat at the island. “You look pissy.”

Earl grabbed the apple from my hand as I spoke. “Morning,” he offered Josh. “Yeah. What’s biting you.”

Josh took a deep breath and rubbed his face. “I wish I’d known boss man pulled an all-nighter. I could’ve changed my schedule around before riding all the way out here.”

“An all-nighter?” I asked as my citrusy water was place in front of me.

Without delay, I began gulping it down, ignoring the strong bitter tang.

“Yup. The young maestro has pulled another shut-in and demanded everyone else to do the same.” Earl’s brows rose.

After the last guzzle, I slammed the glass on the countertop.

“Yo—” my words stumbled at a revelation. Ragee not coming to bed meant he’d been working all night. “You mean to tell me they’ve been working since ten a.m. yesterday?”

“Yesterday?” Josh asked, just as flabbergasted as I was.

Earl nodded with pursed lips. He was down for the chinwag as usual. Ordinarily, it was comical, but this morning, I was utterly shocked.

I turned to Josh, who ran his fingers through his jet-black hair, his cheeks puffed then hot air shot through his mouth, telling of his obvious frustration.

“I’m sorry, Josh. Does that mean your session is canceled?”

“I was told it’s been pushed back,” he muttered, regard somewhere in the air.

“And pushed back could mean later on this morning. If he’s lucky, this afternoon—”

“Or tonight,” Josh finished for Earl. “There’s no telling when that man gets stuck in the studio. Lucky for you, I caught Greg Philinganes and his people leaving about five minutes ago.”

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“He’s one of the people Raj’s working with for this new album, I’m guessing. You’re too young to be familiar with his work, but he’s played with the greats. Ragee, being the neurotic ass perfectionist I’ve been told he is, is on his shit if he kept that man in the studio this long. The gardener said Mark Kibble left at five, saying he had a family event he couldn’t miss this morning.”

“Who’s Mark Kibble?” My eyes bounced between the two men.

Josh shrugged, even furrowed his eyebrows, still annoyed.

“Young lady, you have lots to learn about the industry you’ve married into,” Earl shook his head as he sighed. He pushed the apple wedger down onto a saucer, splitting the fruit into eighths. “I would say google these people, but you’ll be meeting them quicker than the results will load.” He handed me the plate of sliced apples. “He’s helping Raj with the vocal arrangement for this song they’ve been working on.”

“Which song is that important?” Josh’s thick brows met.

“An old jazz number, “Setembro,” Earl answered. “I heard bits of it while bringing in food last night before I clocked out.”

“And what’s so special about this track?” Josh still sounded argumentative. He was angry.

“It’s a remake of a nineteen-eighties song by a Brazilian artist—” He paused to think. “His name will come to me. Fine Brazilian brother—they all are, in my opinion.” Earl shrugged. “Back in the late eighties, Quincy Jones released it with other notable musicians and vocalists…Take 6.” His head tilted in the same direction it did when he mentioned the Kibble guy.  

“And what does Kibble have to do with Quincy or Take 6?”

“Kibble is a member, honey. Keep up!” he snipped.

“I’m trying. I caught the correlation, at least,” I tried.

“Well, apparently, you aren’t catching many.” He tossed his chin in the same general area before wiping down the counter with a rag. “Raj and Kibble just produced an independent track together that was released last year. You ain’t know that either?”

Okay, now Earl is being just as crabby as Josh this morning.

“Nope!” I grabbed the plate and plastered a smile. “But what I do know is I’m down fourteen pounds, thanks to the neurotic”—I tossed my eyes to poor Josh—“unreasonable and inconsiderate client.” I frowned for sympathy then I turned to leave the kitchen.

“Your protein shake will be ready for you soon, Missy Thang,” I heard Earl call after me.

Quickly, I decided to head toward the studio. I couldn’t believe this man worked for almost a whole day. As I ambled there, chewing on an apple wedge, I tried remembering the last time I’d heard from Raj. That’s when I recalled I hadn’t since he said he had a session.

On my way there, as I traveled the long corridor extending the main house to the studio suite, bodies came my way. They looked to be dragging. A few of the men carried instrument cases. They nodded my way, but I could perceive the grumbles in their whispers to each other as they left for the “day.” They were exhausted, some zombie-like in their sloth movements.

Almost there, I noticed a short black woman with an elaborate head wrap, covering long locs. She carried a guitar case and was on the phone, but nodded as we passed.

“Mommy had to work late, baby. I’m on my way home now to take you to school,” her vocals pleaded to what I imagined was a small child.

Now in the suite, the closer I drew to the doors of the studio, I could hear soft music playing. Then it was stopped. As I opened one of the doors, it started again. I almost ran into two guys who were leaving out as I was coming in. They apologized with red swollen eyes, and one even on a yawn. By the time I made it into the main area where the gigantic mixing board was in the center, most of the room was cleared out, though Gary was still sitting there working. But the space was a mess. Chairs looking to have once been organized and placed together were in major disarray. Loose music sheet papers were spread on the floor, clearly dropped.

Leech, who resembled a beetle to me, was in the corner with a bag, tossing out empty water bottles and soda cans. I saw where there were trays of and an array of mostly eaten sandwiches, vegetables, and a sweets platter. It was clearly one of Earl’s presentations. And the room was rather cold. My neck swung all over, observing the chaos of music production.

So this is what an all-night studio session looks like?

“A’ight,” coarse vocals had me turning a ninety-degree angle. “Now run it from the second beat of that lift,” Raj ordered. “I want to up that chord progression.”

He was in one of the recording booths, encased with mostly glass. I couldn’t see his face because it was hidden behind a circular mesh screen attached to a microphone. But I could see he wore an off-white military styled cap. The music ran again, and after a few seconds of a seductive saxophone flow mixing with a gorgeous melody, Raj’s live silky chords ran with those already recorded. I didn’t understand what he was doing. What he was producing in the booth, releasing before my eyes, didn’t stick out from what was already on the track he sang over.

“Cut that shit, man!” he shouted over the track, after abruptly ending his notes. “Damn!” he hissed, resembling that same frustration Josh displayed back in the kitchen.

I heard rattling near me and turned. It was Leech, clearing gum wrappers from the floor.

“What’s he doing?” I whispered as Raj asked Gary to run it again from the same place.

“‘Bout to drive everybody crazy. We been at this since yesterday morning. Everybody left, and he still at it,” he mumbled while picking up trash.

I followed him a few feet toward the chairs clearly a live band had recently occupied.

“What’s he trying to get?” I bit into an apple wedge, being lighthearted in an obviously tense atmosphere.

“It’s like a seven-layer vocal track he tryna redo. Dude’s been singing all the melodies and arranging damn near a six-piece orchestra.” Leech shook his head, clearly exasperated. “Dude gone crash. A couple’a people did before he called it closed.” Taking a deep breath, he bent for more trash and walked off to continue his cleaning.

The track ran again. Raj sang, and again, he demanded it be stopped because he’d gotten the note wrong, I was guessing.

This time, with much gruff in his voice, he bit out, “I got it from here, G.”

After a few words in return from Gary, it was clear Raj was releasing him from the session. Gary stood from the mixing board, grabbed his hat and keys before he saluted the vast, mostly empty room, and left. Raj dropped the headphones on a metal hook near the microphone and exited the dim booth.

His head was low as he traversed over to the mixing board, face toward his feet. Ragee didn’t even notice me standing there. But I registered his approach, his scent, aura, and weighted steps over the wooden floor. I recognized the broadness in his chest clad in an off white long-sleeve cotton shirt clinging to each globular muscle on his arms, shoulders, and the swollen boxes of his breasts. He was delightful in shower shoes under long hard bowed legs covered by off white sweats. 

“Well, good morning, favorite hubby,” I joked softly, but cheerfully as I snickered.

Raj stopped in his tracks, his head swung up and heavy eyes hit mine. His face was vacant, something I was used to. His eyes roved down my robe, making me wonder how many times he asked in his head what in the world was I doing in his studio wearing it. This morning, I didn’t care. I was happy. Raj couldn’t ruin it if he wanted to.

I pushed the small saucer toward him, extending my arms fully. “An apple a day…” I smiled. When he didn’t respond, I was reminded of his draining session. “I can have Earl whip you up some tea. I’m sure it’ll soothe your chords.” I hiked my brows for appeal.

Raj’s eyes dropped back down to the floor and he continued toward me at the mixing board. With one hand at the lip of the console, he leaned over it, studying colorful buttons and knobs. He punched a few, turned his cap to the back, and scratched his head underneath it as he observed a monitor that looked to be reading a pulse.

Resting against the board, I lowered my head. “I panicked when I woke up and you were gone this morning.” I slid an inch closer to him. “I had no nasty ass water.” I giggled alone, ignoring the faint smell of his cologne.

Way too dangerous to dwell on.

“I’m out, yo,” Leech announced curtly as he walked toward the main door. “I’mma be in the kitchen looking for grub if you need me.”

Raj offered him the same empty gaping he gave me. That’s when I noticed the bags underneath his eyes. His beard was unkempt yet deliciously wild, telling of his laborious night.

“Guess what?” I proposed, giddy. Raj’s heavy eyes rolled toward me. I bit off another bitter wedge and garbled, “Down fourteen pounds!” I paused with big eyes, anticipating a reaction. My face fell when it didn’t come. All I saw was his strong jaw bone flex from the movements just beneath his cheeks, the plumpness of his full lips unmoving. Now nervous, I laughed. That intimidation and doubt about us being cool today had returned. But I couldn’t let him smell it on me. I was determined to walk out of here with my spirit intact. I scoffed, “Welp, I’m going to take my one-hundred-seventy-eight-pound ass upstairs and throw on my workout clothes then take my smaller-in-inch ass and run that track because I’m about to be the old Wynter, a bad bitch, in about another month. Watch!”

Just as I was about to step off, Raj wrenched from over the board straight up on his feet and hovered over me. His head was cocked to the side, brows thick and almost meeting, his nostrils flared, and breathing perceptible.

“You need to watch your mouth,” he grated. “It’s fuckin’ filthy.”

My face fell and lips parted, pieces of apple peppered on my tongue. Before I could speak, Raj took me at the chin and crushed my frame with his weight. He pushed his tongue in my mouth and twirled against mine. My nose expanded, needing air from shock. I mounted on my toes, completely startled. When his left hand cupped the back of my head, a damn levy broke between my thighs. My legs wobbled, knees threatening to give.

Ragee was on me. He was devouring me with his mouth. His scented heat was all over me, and that quickly, it seemed as though I’d skipped cosmos. I was in the arms of a man, who wanted to ravish me—was ravishing me. Raj’s hand brushed down my chest through the robe, massaging my breast. His other hand moved to the back of my head, securing me again. In this universe, he was a man without the layer of opacity. He was being clear about his wishes. He wanted me.  

 A moan slipped when he used a knee to spread my legs. Hurriedly, I pushed back onto the lip of the board and opened more for him. His one hand was steady, pushing up my shaking thighs. My one hand went to grip the ledge, the other gathered his shirt in my palm. I didn’t trust the muscles of my body to hold me independently. His hand was on my sex, brushing over my moist lips. His two fingers swiped over my clit in a circular motion, revving me.

Shit…

Holy hell…

The gang of fucks…

Ragee was taking it there…with me! His one finger slid inside. My shoulders lifted and back caved. I couldn’t remember feeling this good in…forever. I could feel my desire for him against his slippery finger. Could hear the swishing of it under the thick robe. With his right hand, he yanked my hair, pulling my head back. He bit my bottom lip, scraping his teeth over it, and I whimpered helplessly. The last thing I expected when I woke up this morning was Ragee all over me, drowning me in demanding kisses. Then he pushed my legs wider, indecently wider. The type of wide, I knew. He lifted my thighs to lay against the sides of his abdomen, creating just enough space for himself. The type of space needed to—

“Ahhhhh…” I grunted at the first feel of his silky bulbous head pushing inside of me.

Both my palms went to his thick shoulders, my head veered back, the pressure outstanding. His entry was borderline painful. He was thick and…wide. I hadn’t felt that type of ache in…forever. His hips rolled against the backs of my thighs, driving his thickness into my tight core. And damn it, I wanted him. I felt my back and armpits start to mist from the intrusion. My body may have been delaying making that clear, but my head had decided long ago. I wanted Ragee.

I bit my lip with squeezed eyes and willed him inside. My fingers gripped his straining neck, breasts lifted to reach his hard chest, and spine poised to welcome him in. His heat, angry expression, scent, disregard, and thickness had made the choice and he began to rock into me. His first few plunges were rough, intensifying the ache. But I commanded my body to relax, to open to Raj. I opened my eyes and peered deeply into his. In my heart, I felt it was the right thing to do. Ragee needed human connection. His face was hard, jaw locked with determination. Did he feel he had something to prove? I had no idea what was going through his mind, but it worked. Raj’s lunges into me were smoothing in no time, but his penetration was deep—aggressive and thorough. There was a distinct friction against the walls of my sex, making my belly feel air-light.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

Shit…

It hit me. It was the piercing. I felt it, both balled ends pushed against my swollenness, revealing pleasure points I never knew existed. His breathing chopped as he plummeted into me, loosening me with each thrust. My robe had slackened, exposing the thin gown I wore underneath. Raj pulled it up to clear the way. His abdomen smacked against the puffy pouch of mine with each thrust. Biting his lip, his head dropped, regarding our meeting place. When my eyes followed, I saw the ramming of his heavy ridged muscle, all but the head of it. It was covered in my translucent excitement. He was veiny down there, too, the dense root surrounded by a black, wiry bush. And that damn reckless knocking against my walls…

“Oh!” I chirped when a volt of pleasure sparked in my core.

It was so powerful and unexpected, my back gave out and I almost fell back onto the mixing board. My hand flew back to break the fall, but hit a button. The sounds of Raj’s vocals without the music filled the air. Realization played on my face when my eyes widened and I stared into his empty eyes as he pounded into me. Raj’s voice, though I’d heard it close to a hundred times by now, was nothing short of instrumental. It was strong, pure, agile, and dense. The harmony was synced, delivered with clear pitch. The irony of it all was dizzying.

I was in a multi-million-dollar studio, having sex with my fake husband—who was actually my legal husband—a Grammy winning, B-list actor. He’d had a particular disdain for me, but after months of being forced into a life together, had begun to trust me to share private conversations. He’d kissed me recently, told me things I was sure were unavailable to his fan base. And now, under the spell of his majestic vocals, he was unraveling me in a way I couldn’t explain.

Raj’s pelvis circled as he grinded into me, sending the apex of him hitting all over my womb, his metal member banging all around. A delicious disturbance. My core shook then vibrated, the walls of my sex gripped him with growing need. My spine arched, legs lifted and tightened behind him. My heels dug into his hard, smooth ass as I held onto him like the next few moments would change everything for me.

And it did.

A bomb imploded in my groin and my pelvis pelted over Raj. I pulled his hard body into me, yanking his face down to mine and cried into his mouth as a cloud of bliss showered over my entire body. My tongue stilled and neck gave out as my lungs burned from efforts of silence. I floated in his arms with him driving between my tense thighs. And it wouldn’t stop. Pleasure rolled in over and over and over again, panicking me. I lifted my head and peered into his eyes, no longer able to hear anything but our coarse breathing. A sharp glimmer sparked in his one vacant eye.

Quickly, the muscles around his eyes went lax as he watched me intently.

Floating, I mouthed, Raj.

It was a helpless cry in a moment I was lost to complete euphoria, seeing and hearing everything in slow motion. I’d never experienced pleasure this long after an orgasm—maybe I was still coming? It was frightening and…blissful as hell. When I was able to feel prickling in my toes again, gratitude filled my chest and I grabbed his head again, bringing his soft mouth to mine. My tongue pushed inside and swiped against his. Then he withdrew, his mouth and lethal cock, and pulled me from the lip of the mixing board. He spun me around and bent me over faster than I realized; my nose was inches away from a row of knobs. My legs were spread, drenched pussy rubbed over with his impatient and searching fingers, and abruptly, he was inside me again.

His hands gripped my waist as he plummeted into me hard. I could feel my body begin to mist under the thick robe, but the sense of Raj’s now familiar scent was louder. His thrusts were strong and deep, and in this position the impression of the balls from his piercing bar was new. The curve of his thickness reached a new sensitive spot. I stood tense on my toes, trying to hold my balance against his plunges.

In no time, my groin began to quicken. My spine lengthened of its own accord. No longer were his lunges too wild; I wanted more. Craved more. He lifted me by the chin and his thrusts turned upward. His lips were on mine, tongue ravishing my mouth. That was a bad move. Within seconds an orgasm rolled over me again. I could barely manage on shaky legs and a wobbling spine. Couldn’t believe I was coming this way. It had never happened. This time, I could tell it was Raj caught off guard and unable to breathe. The thrust of his hips grew unilaterally. They no longer swiveled to knock the head of his cock against the walls of my sex anymore. And he grew thicker inside of me, pelting faster.

Lips to lips, I felt his jaw go lax, but I didn’t want to lose him in the moment. I wanted Raj to stay with me in the space. So, I grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled his tongue into my mouth sucking on it while tightening the walls of my sex. I milked his tongue and dick while lifting my pelvis into his hard thrusts.

A tortured croak leaped from the back of his throat into my mouth. His arms gripped me harder, pelvis drove deeper, and eyes slowly rolled to the back of his head before closing. I could feel him throbbing inside of me almost as perceptibly as his chest beating against me. I remained arched to him until his arms relaxed around me, a gazillion thoughts running through my mind. And for the next few seconds, Raj held onto me.

With a pounding heart and uncontrolled breathing, his thick chords tumbled, “I—” Ragee swallowed, hesitating. “I know we did the tests and stuff…but…I ‘on’t know about your birth—”

“I’m covered,” I immediately offered, not wanting him plagued with that concern. “I’m more than covered.”

Pregnancy had never been ideal to me, so I eliminated it as an option as much as I could.

I felt the cool air of his relieving breath hit my hot neck before his arms withdrew and he pulled out of me. An ache sounded all over my frame, I was so tender. Raj immediately pulled his sweats up to rest low at his waist and aired out his shirt, righting it. Slowly, I turned and straightened my robe, my eyes pinned to him, closely observing.

He took a deep breath, nostrils still flared, eyes above my head. He wiped his mouth, cupping his beard, clearly struggling with a thought.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my vocals regretfully trembling.

He rolled his eyes, letting go of another breath.

Raj shook his head, his eyes landing on me. “I don’t want you to—” His head swung away before returning. He pointed to my body covered in a robe then his finger swung back to himself, referring to what we’d just done. “I don’t wanna play games with you.”

“I’m not going to get hurt by a mindless fuck. My heart ain’t available to bullshit.” It was true. I may have been wildly attracted to him, but I was fully aware, this was no fairy tale romance. I had no idea what it was in the moment, but knew it was incidental at best. We were adapting to our circumstances and clearly acted on the attraction that had been building over time. Nothing more. “I’m built tougher than that.”

“Yeah…” he challenged, eyes brushing past me. “Me, too.” Maybe not his tone, but his words were dismissive, competitive.

Two minutes after sex, he was rejecting me again. What I couldn’t share was I didn’t have the fortitude to fight with him about his sudden mood change in this instance. That “mindless fuck” had just stripped a piece of my armor. I needed to put space between us. Ragee’s guard was far stronger than anything I had in my artillery in the moment. Before I knew it, my feet were retreating from him already. They were dragging my heart from this disaster. My mind needed to catch up. I turned and headed for the door.

The channel connecting the studio suite to the main house was thankfully less eventful than earlier. My legs wobbled at each step and body trembled, weakened. And my throat… It was thick from trying to fight a budding explosion. I ducked my head in the bright foyer and took up the stairs as fast as I could. The commute felt like an eternity as I moved briskly down the long hall to the master wing of the second floor. After closing the door behind me, ripping the housecoat from my trembling frame, I locked it then stumbled over to the bed post, needing to catch my breath.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five…

I went all the way to fifty-five before I was able to gain my lungs. By the time I made it to the bathroom, his cum had reached my ankles. I was so shaken and disoriented, I ambled into the shower with my gown on. The water had heated and trickled all over me before I realized it was on. But I didn’t take it off just yet. I may have gained my lungs out by the bed, but my mind was a different story. That took even longer. I didn’t cry. That wasn’t my style, but I was able to recognize my vulnerability. The sting to my ego. Something about what happened over there wasn’t right. Even a mindless fuck wouldn’t leave me feeling bruised like this.

But I did nothing wrong…

Raj came on to me. I didn’t go down there to seduce him, just to celebrate—or simply, announce—my victory. When I grasped the answers wouldn’t come, I decided to pull the gown off and wash. I pushed myself to go on with my day. Mind fuck and all, Ragee wouldn’t get the better part of me. I was built stronger than that. This was an agreement. Something I had to see through, because I was a woman of my word.

After leaving the shower, I dressed for my work out. When that portion of my morning was done, I grabbed lunch from Earl’s kitchen then took a trip to Essex County Jail for a visit with my uncle where I acted as though I hadn’t had a sneak fuck attack that blew my entire mind.

Just like that, my day and the next few days ahead blew by without me crying about something I didn’t understand, neither could I control. Ragee came to bed and rose the next morning, leaving behind my citrusy water potion as usual, never breathing a word of what took place in his studio. And me? I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of my curiosity. What he could do, I could do even better.

I stood over his desk, watching him peel the lid off another aluminum container. “You wanna buy another quarter horse?”

He stuffed more chicken in his mouth and wouldn’t look at me. “Yeah. For Wynny.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing he couldn’t see. “Her name is Wynter. And she can’t even ride,” I tried. “Why would I pay for a horse for her, Arnie?”

Arnie’s hands fell to his desk beside his dinner containers. He preferred them to plates lately. “Because,” he sang out in a duh manner, annoyed, “she was sad. She was sad when I saw her before and she was sad when I went to see her today.”

He was getting upset, too. I knew this by how he balled his fists around his food. I let out a hard breath. I only drove back here to bring him his dinner before leaving for Bible study. My driver was waiting on me at the main house. I didn’t need this. The moment I pulled the truck in park, he was at the door, hyped up about a surprise. It took him to unpack his food here in his office stable—that he didn’t use as an office—to make this crazy announcement.

“She ain’t ya girlfriend, man.”

His head shot up. “She’s my sister-in-love!” His tone was as if I accused him of doing something wrong.

“Yeah, and my wife. You ain’t gotta get her stuff.”

“I want to make her smile. She’s sad.”

“Did she tell you she’s sad?”

“No.” Arnie shook his head stubbornly. “She looked sad, Gee-Gee.” He stuffed more food into his mouth.

I turned to lean back against the desk. Two days ago, after she ran out of the studio and I finally gave up and ended the session myself, Earl told me he saw Wynter kicking it with Arnie in the gazebo out back. That was weird. Arnie was never beat to come up to the main house. I’d have to bribe him to come if we had family over. For his birthdays, I had to get used to taking the party to his ranch. By the time I made it up to the master suite that day, I saw them from the terrace. It was before she took off to visit her uncle. I was glad Arnie brought Wynter up. I needed to nip this in the bud and now. Wynter may have been cool, but she was temporary. I didn’t want to mix my brother up in this mess, which was why I never introduced them.

I shook my head. “I can’t cop her a horse, Arnie.” That was final.

“Why?” His face was to his plate. “You let me get horsies when I want one.”

“Because Wynter ‘on’t want no horse, man.”

But mine…

She damn sure was good at mine. Memories of her throwing her pussy back at me was burned into my brain. I had no clue of her sexual experience, but that one time on the mixing board told me more than she ever let up in one of our late night chill sessions. It still messed me up how the best sex I ever had was with my fake wife.

“It’s gonna make her happy, Gee-Gee! Women need to be happy.” He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork. “Then they give us babies!”

“Whoa!” I jumped to my feet. “Whatchu know about babies, bruh?”

Arnie didn’t answer.

“Yo!” I called to him, but it was a waste of time.

If there was one thing we had in common, we McKinnon-Michaels brothers could shut out the loudest voices in the room. When we were done with conversation, we were done.

“Bruh-Bruh,” I started toward the door, needing to go, “ain’t nobody having babies around here, and that includes you and Sarah. A’ight?”

I watched his profile as Arnie kept eating. Wasn’t no answer coming from him. He’d officially given me his ‘fuck off” and I respected it.

“Don’t forget lil Anthony’s party is Saturday.” She stopped to giggle. “He said he wants Uncle Gee-Gee to sing “Happy Birthday” to him on YouTube,” she sputtered.

I laughed myself. Kids can come up with the craziest things. Anthony was Antwan and Heather’s oldest son. In his almost four-year-old mind, that made perfect sense. It kind of did, just not as fluid as he thought. I scratched my head, seeing we were pulling up to the house.

“Dude’s shot out.” I chuckled. “I’m not gonna be in town this weekend, though.” I’d forgotten all about lil Anthony’s birthday. Myisha usually kept me on top of things like this.

“You mean to tell me his godfather won’t be at his fourth birthday party?” I heard the bite in that, though Heather would never be direct with it. Her guilt wouldn’t let her.

I took a deep breath, feeling drained. Service was lit at Redeeming Souls. So lit, I almost regretted being home. There was something about losing yourself in the tabernacle. Getting through that and not having a good night’s sleep in three days had me running on empty.

“I’ll make it up to him.”

“You working?” I could hear more than simple curiosity in her inquiry.

The car stopped and I hopped out. “Nah. Not really. Super Bowl networking.”

“Super Bowl networking? The Kings made it, must be.”

“The hell you been?” I scoffed. “Under a damn rock? I know Antwan’s big on football.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “He’s big on a lot, and not big at all.”

I shook my head with the phone to my ear. I wasn’t going there with Heather. We agreed that was one of our weak points. If she couldn’t be strong, I would.

“Yeah. My Kings made it again this year. Shit like this don’t happen. Like ever.” I let myself into the house and strolled down to the coat closet, not knowing how long this conversation would last. I didn’t want to rush Heather, but I was eager to get home because Earl had texted about my grandmother wanting to talk to me. “Should be fun.”

“Nice.” She took a deep breath, making it hard to believe her statement. “You’re going to support Trent Bailey. I’m sure he’ll be shocked and appreciative of you coming out of your shell.”

It’s all for work.

Trent was a long-term friend of mine—an all around good brother, but if I were to be real, the only reason I was going to be a part of the festivities was to be seen.

I think…

“She going?”

I stopped, holding my coat in the air at the closet. Something in my chest tightened at the whisper of her words. They felt…dirty…scandal-like. She. Her. Wynter. My fake legal wife.

I hadn’t really kicked it with her since the morning I went ape between her tight thighs in my studio. That was three days ago, and it bothered me that I missed our conversations. These few days without our late-night chats were cold to me. I hated that I…felt something about not talking to her. Since when did I give a damn about talking privately to my fake wife?

Fake, but legal wife…

I shook off the thought right away. Bible class tonight was the first time my mind wasn’t clouded with trying to figure this out. I reached for a wooden hanger and arranged my coat on it.

“Uh… Yeah. That’s the purpose. Right?” That question wasn’t for Heather.

“So, y’all get two suites when you have to travel together?” her tone was soft.

I didn’t know how to answer that one. When I had the arrangements made a week ago, I requested one suite. Wynter and I could now share a bed. Well, actually. Very well. But that was before I spazzed the hell out on her. I still didn’t know what made me take it there with her. It was like I had no damn restraint. When I saw her in my studio, her face was tight and lips still swollen from just having woken up. She wore a robe, which meant I knew what was underneath. Everything about her screamed of the intimacy we’d built on the low. And I was tired that morning, exhausted. I took a trip from reality and stepped into savage land.

And I want to again…

“Gee-Gee.”

“Huhn?”

“You never answered my question.”

“What question?” I legit forgot, so caught up in my head again.

She laughed. “Y’all stay in separate rooms when away, too?”

We didn’t stay in separate rooms now. I didn’t want to do that in Minnesota, either. I wanted Wynter in my bed. I wanted to kick it with her again.

I closed the coat closet door. “Not sure about separate suites. Could be one. I don’t know what Myisha booked. Maybe.” I vocally shrugged.

It was something men did when they wanted to play dumb. I wasn’t about to explain to Heather how things had changed between Wynter and me. It didn’t matter because all of it was temporary anyway.

 “Well, just be careful,” she heeded. “I can’t say enough how risky all of this is. I don’t wanna have to commit a homicide and repent later. I hate this.”

“You trippin’, girl.” The humor in my tone was natural. It was easy to gloss over things for me. “I gotta go. Earl texted me in church, saying Pastor McKinnon needed me.”

“She probably got word of that drama with the choir.”

“A’ight.” I was closing the conversation.

“Love you, Gee,” she whispered.

“Later.” I tapped to hang up.

The first place I headed to was the kitchen. It was empty at first, only half the lights on. I walked toward the large room, hearing small noises until I found Earl deep in the pantry, cleaning the lower shelves.

“Aye.”

On his knees, he strained to turn around.

“Oh,” he grunted. “She’s in her room. I told her I’d send you when you got in.”

“What’s good?”

“She said she needs to go home and check on business for a few days.”

I nodded, thinking Heather was right. When I left out, Earl called behind me.

“Should I call for a driver?”

I was already on it, phone in hand, searching the number to text. “I got it.”

Then I went straight up to her room. After knocking, she invited me in.

“Gee-Gee!” she called, surprised by my presence. “I’m glad you came straight home after Bible study.” She strained to get up from the sofa chair where she was watching television. “Did the presence of the Lord make itself known tonight?”

I shrugged with my face, confirming. “Saturated the sanctuary.”

“Amen. Praise His holy name.” She powered off the television. “The choir director—the Dawn girl—got into it with Bobby and a few others in the choir tonight at practice.”

I wouldn’t tell her Heather had just given me the latest on the ride home from the City. I was confident the whole church knew about it at this point.

She made her way to me and nodded toward the bed where I noticed a bag packed.

“I called a meeting with them for tomorrow night. But I got Evangelist Mary taking me to Robert Wood hospital in the morning. Elder Johnson’s having his hip surgery.”

“Oh.” I scratched my mustache. “A’ight.” She stood straight with her bag in her hand. I noticed it wasn’t all she arrived with. But I still needed clarity. This could change a lot. “So, this the end of your sabbatical?” I covered my curiosity with a joke while grabbing the bag from her.

“No!” She raised a hand and shook her head. “I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

I stood in front of her. “Okay.”

“Okay, baby?” She tried smiling.

My grandmother was trying to soothe me. Little did she know, I was past the age where her protective presence was necessary.

“Okay. Evangelist Mary gone ride me over to Heather and Brother Taylor’s baby’s party Saturday. Now, I done talked to the ministerial staff and told them I’ll be back here next week; I’m still on leave. But I’m gonna be in service on Sunday to restore order amongst the people.” She moved to leave the room and I followed her. “Then I’ll check in with you to come back out here.”

We were headed down the stairs. “S’all good. You welcome back whenever you like.”

“I know, baby.” She breathed hard, dropping down step by step sideways while holding onto the rail. “I gotta come back. The Lord ain’t say my rest time is up. My numbers look okay, but He said they’ll get even better, and I’mma be obedient to His heeding. Amen?”

“Amen.”

Once we hit the first floor, I grabbed her coat from the closet. By the time we made it to the front door, the car was sitting idle waiting on her. I walked her out, freezing my ass off while getting her in the car and her duffle in the trunk.

“You got my number, Pastor,” I reminded her while hunched down beside the car door. “Let me know if I can be of more help.”

Funny thing was, I trained my grandmother to go through other channels to reach me. Yeah, she’d always had my number, but I wouldn’t answer when she’d call. I’d have Myisha or one of the assistants call her back to check, telling her I was tied up. But for the first time since I was a kid, I didn’t mind my grandmother’s direct access. Her being here these past few weeks had shifted something between us.

“Amen.” She nodded. “You’ll hear from me in a couple of days. I promise.”

After closing the door, I tapped the roof, dismissing them. Then I jogged back into the house, loving the heat hitting my chilled frame right away. It was mad early, but felt late, thanks to my grandmother’s schedule. At close to eleven at night, my day was still high time. Since she’d been here, it had been shut down time.

The time when I’d be upstairs running my yap to her…

And I was tired. Damn, I was fatigued. I could head into the studio and lay a few lyrics looping in my head the past few days. I could even correct a few melodies on the “Setembro” remake. But I was honestly burned out. So, burned out, I didn’t even want to think about what my grandmother leaving meant for me. And Wynter.

I tapped a few times on my phone and listened to it ring.

“Yeah?” I heard loud music in the background.

“Confirming for tomorrow. Everything set?”

“Texted Captain Morgan a couple of hours ago. Jet is fueled and being stocked tonight. The suite has been confirmed. Security will arrive about an hour before you to do a sweep. TB’s people know you’ll be in their suite.”

“Cool.” I climbed the stairs.

“Oh, and Nelly from Azmir’s camp hit me up yesterday. She said he wants you to stop by his suite, too. He wants to meet Wynter.”

“Perfect.”

“I know. Right?”

“You good?” I asked.

Not that I cared for the details of my cousin’s dating life, but Myisha hadn’t been talking about her time away when we spoke. It was always about business.

“I’m grand. Just grand.” Her tone was bland, but that was her sense of humor, it seemed.

“A’ight. Be safe.”

“Be smart.”

“Always.” I disconnected the call and made my way down the hall to the master suite.

That tightening in my chest started again the closer I got to the doors. I wondered if she was sleep. Each night since she ran out of my studio she’d been asleep by the time I came to bed.

Damn…

My eyes squeezed closed, upset. I’d had her trained to do that. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but what I needed, and Wynter had been making it happen.

Quietly, I stepped into the dark room and closed the door behind me. I crept over to the walk-in and kicked off my shoes then started taking off my clothes. I could smell her in my closet. Her things hadn’t been in here a full month yet, but she was here. In each corner of my room. The craziest thing about that was I wanted her here. I couldn’t tell her because I couldn’t explain it and didn’t know how long I’d want it. But I did.

God…

I messed up. I let her leave the studio and hadn’t had the heart to man up and at least talk to her about what happened. I thought to kick it with Ezra about it tonight, but decided against it before I sent a text before service. I had a feeling what he’d say, and I was sick of dealing with that old ass issue.

In no time, I was in the bathroom to take a leak. My mind was so busy and back on this shit with Wynter, I didn’t realize I couldn’t pee until it hit me I’d been staring at the same spot in the wall, over the toilet for mad long. I looked down at my dick and saw it was almost full blown hard in my hand.

Nah…

I closed my eyes and rolled my head backward, willing myself to think about anything other than this girl. My dick was hard because I could still smell her. She was every damn where! I looked across the bathroom and saw her house coat tossed across the vanity. Her slippers were inches away from the magazine bin. Wynter had taken over my damn room.

This was my life. I was a married man. What was crazy was when I did imagine myself married, it was only with Heather. We would fantasize about what our lives would be like together. She swore she was going to be the type of wife that stayed home and took care of everything, including the kids. She said I’d only have to go to work and come home with money to feed our family. She’d even fix my lunch every day.

That had me busting out laughing over the toilet. My free hand went to my bare chest where the ache still throbbed. Me, a wife, kids, and a nine-to-five. That would never happen—at least the last two. My eyes shot down when I heard trickling in the toilet. I’d finally started to piss. To pee! This shit had become so bad I couldn’t even pee?

After washing my hands, I cleaned my face and brushed my teeth. The pain in my chest was still there as I walked out into the main room in the dark. My feet felt heavy and my head started to pound. This was crazy. I pulled back the cover and lowered myself on the bed, and that’s when her scent turned dizzying.

Oh, God, what is this?

Since when was I affected by a woman to this degree? I shuffled underneath on my back and lay stiff on the bed, trying to stay on my side. I closed my eyes and fought hard to fall asleep. Chest pains, head pains, dick throbs. This day had to end, and soon.

Word…