~4~

 

“Sorry I’m running late.”

I looked up from my Audemars as Molly rushed into the small waiting room with her small arms filled with folders.  I caught a glimpse of Lil Bruh posted outside the door before she kicked it closed behind her. There had to be bad news for her to ask to see me and not just shoot an email. I had so much to do. I’d just left a meeting with my product manager and lawyers in Manhattan to drive all the way over to Bernardsville, New Jersey for this “important” meeting. This cut into my time with D.J. Scratch to go over my show at Drai’s tomorrow. That was all the way in Englewood, right back near the City. And I was lucky he was so close just before the show, and I didn’t have to fly out to Vegas a day early just to vibe and plan with him before we did the show. On top of that, I was sick as hell. Post-nasal drip and a scratchy voice was not a good look before a show; it didn’t matter, it wasn’t a full concert.

“S’all gravy,” I offered as she sat at the other end of the small table. The paperwork she struggled carrying spilled out over the table and she tried drawing it back into a neat pile. “You good?”

Molly giggled, stacking the thick folders as much as possible. “I will be.” She bit her bright red bottom lip as she struggled. “Okay,” she breathed, finally looking at me. Those aquamarines ablaze with emotion. “Mr. McKinnon—”

“It’s Raj, Molly. You know that.”

No need to add to her obvious anxiety with unnecessary formalities. I’d been knowing Molly for over a year now. We were past that.

“I know.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “First, thanks for meeting with me on such short notice. I know you’re a busy man and this may be costing you money—literally. But I couldn’t do this over the phone.” She took a deep breath and tried calming herself. “The state’s pulling the plug on the Bearing Love program.” Another breath. “We got word a few days ago from our project manager, and my boss has spent the past few days, trying to negotiate to have them rescind or even downsize. It hasn’t worked, so we wanted to reach out to you as a courtesy.”

“Program’s been running and well for over a year.” I scratched my bottom lip as my eyes grazed the table blindly, trying to come up with something. Anything. This was messed up. “You guys have data on the progress of your work. You can’t write some stats to retrodict your purpose?”

Molly shook her head. “Nothing so far.”

“Is it the money? Do I need to dig deeper to supplement more?”

Again, those blonde waves of her hair swung. “We reached our supplement funding requirement for the budget period.”

“Then why’re they pulling the plug? It’s always about money. Gotta be. We ain’t even at the end of the three-year-pilot period.”

“We have a new governor. A new administration means new priorities and new agendas. To be honest, word is Bearing Love only got green-lighted because of a favor the old administrator owed a friend of one of our bosses here. This is considered a ‘luxury’ program. The new government doesn’t see identifying sexually abused children, rerouting them from the foster care waiting list, assuming legal care, bringing them out here to ‘no-where rural New Jersey,’ and treating them with intense counseling and music therapy a viable alternative. The powers that be at the upper echelon government level have to be on board with it for it to succeed, no matter how sound and revolutionary the approach is.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately, that’s how it goes around here.”

I chuckled, scratching inside of my beard.

“What’s so funny?” she asked with a soft smile.

“Nah. It’s just that I just took a meeting a few days ago with the state.” I shook my head, still chuckling. “They need something from me and I turned them down.”

Her eyes ignited with amazement. “Whoa! The state? You turned them down?”

I jerked my neck, shrugging. “It’s just property. I bet they don’t even realize how they just rep’ed their right hook back at me.”

“Too bad you choose to be anonymous here.” Molly was suggesting I could have possibly used that as leverage to keep the program alive.

I scoffed. “If only it were that simple. Politics ain’t my thing, Molly.”

Her eyes fell below, and she nodded her acceptance.

“How long are we talking?”

“We don’t know yet. Possibly six months. Perhaps a year before they’re registered for foster care.”

My eyes closed and squeezed on their own. I grabbed the bridge of my nose. This was the last thing I expected when she hit me up.

“Anyway.” She began sifting through the mountain of folders she carted in here. “Benji will be an easy placement. He’s older—could possibly be fifteen before this program shuts down. Mathew and Devon won’t be as easy a sell. Mathew’s anxiety and medications make him an unlikely candidate for fast placement. And Devon’s trauma happened over such a stretch of time, the only way to ensure his development and healthy survival at this point is long term therapy. Otherwise, he’ll be another Newark statistic. You know?”

My eyes fell to hide the vividness of that prospect. Molly didn’t know I invested in this program to try to foster a connection to boys like me. She had no clue how knowing I was doing something to help boys with similar scars to mine helped me feel human. I’d prayed for years for an opportunity to pay it forward with anonymity. Out of nowhere, Ezra hit me up with information on this program. He said he’d heard about it from the manager of a group home near his place. It had been the perfect match.

Now, I sat here regretting it. How can I let go of these young boys and toss them to the wolves of foster care? I’d met them twice, but they had no knowledge of my sponsorship. I never wanted anyone to know.

“I have an evaluation to get to but want to leave you with this. Another reason I couldn’t do this over the phone.” She slid a sealed envelope over to me before gathering her things to go. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call.” Her smile was warm and final neck bow professional.

I returned the bow but was too curious about the envelope for words or facial gestures. As the door closed behind her, my phone vibrated over the table.

J-Exec: All’s clear for tomorrow. Also peep this…

It was an IG link I automatically clicked on without thought. It took me to a post made the day before. It was a picture of some young girls in some parking lot with Teke and… Wynter. She stood next to one of the girls, holding the peace sign, smiling bright and looking sexy as fuck. She wore a big blue, silky looking blouse with long sleeves and coochie shorts.

When did she start wearing those?

Then I had to remind myself I met her last fall; I had no idea what she wore before moving into my homes. Her teeth were bright and nicely aligned. God, it felt like forever since I’d seen the light of them. The slide-in heels she wore made the look less casual, but the way Wynter crossed one leg over the other, she appeared very comfortable in her skin. And fit. Her thighs looked to have toned since she left.

She’s still working out…

That discovery made my heart swell with pride and jealousy. My eyes scrolled down the line where Wynter and Teke were separated by one girl. His head was to the side and smile loaded with arrogance, speaking more to me than I should have believed he was.

The caption read: And then this… Going to load up on cheap junk before the movies and see fine ass Teke from B City stroll out of Quick-Shop with this beauty.  

I could see someone asked was Wynter and Teke a couple. The girl responded, “It looked like Teke wanted to be.” Then as I kept reading—like the pathetic ass I am—I saw someone sensibly explain Wynter was married to me. No one responded to that in all the eighty comments there. Because I read them all.

I came out of the app and clicked to rest my phone. My back reclined in the chair as I took a deep breath, and my fingers went to my beard as I thought. The truth was I needed to get to that meeting with Scratch, but I felt exhausted all of a sudden by the blows coming. Seeing her with this clown reminded how far we’d drifted, and so soon after finally connecting. And I couldn’t forget about the news I was just hit with about Bearing Love.

That reminder brought my attention to the envelope Molly left. I ripped it open by the flap and pulled out the contents. There were brochures on the adoption program in the state. The one on top was specific to the registry. Buried in between was a letter not addressed to anyone neither was it signed. It was, however, detailed with specific steps on how to adopt a child or specific children who are in need of a home.

Tossing the papers down, I laughed my ass off.

I muttered to myself, “I got a play-play wife I’m tryna legitimize, a business manager I’m praying will keep his life, and a grimy cousin I’m weeding out my life. Even if she lets me back into her life, there’s no way I can bring three kids with me. She really gone think I’m crazy!”

And by the way, Wynter, these ain’t all black boys. One’s mixed with some crazy ass combo, and the other’s white…

I stood laughing, needing to go.

Even with the laughter, my chest ached with a pain like no other.

We came bustling through the door, looking a sweaty sight. I couldn’t stop laughing at Teke’s pathetic limp after he crawled out of the limo.

“You’re horrible!” I teased, holding the door for him.

“And you’re evil,” he emitted with little breath to spare.

I had very little in my lungs, too, from cracking the hell up at him.

“See…” I tsked. “I told you those energy drinks are bullshit and wouldn’t help with cardio.”

We were returning from a private guided mountain hike. It was a guided trail and admittedly, I wasn’t a strong runner, but Teke couldn’t even make it a full mile before his knees buckled. Sean, a son of one of the L.I.T. Music executives, came out with us and had to endure Teke’s blasphemous grumbles and complaints. He had to hear my bursts of laughter, too, as I cracked the fuck up from his laziness.

Sean’s cheeks were a deep hue of pink, I was sure from the exercise as well as our antics. “Time to soak in the fucking tub, dude,” he bade as he toed down the hall toward his room, looking a bit pained, too.

The mountain was no easy feat, but it didn’t kill me. It actually distracted me. Teke helped, too.

“You gonna be alright, bud?” I babied him, swiping my hand across his head while he leaned over with his hands on his knees. “You know we stopped walking over twenty minutes ago?” I lifted a brow.

“Nah. Every step I take for the rest of the day is gonna be painful.” His face was stretched in torment. 

“Soak it off in the tub like Sean,” I advised. “That should help.”

“Nah. The hell with that.” I turned to find out who was approaching us. “The grill has just been sparked. Issa pool party popping off!” Irv announced, his face lit with excitement.

Teke stood straight, though his posture was still off a bit. “Word? Food?”

“And you know this!” Irv did some two step. “I got some ass coming through soon. Going to slip on my trunks before she pull up.”

“Who got the grill?”

“The chef!” Irv’s face lifted mockingly.

“That’s all it takes to get you motivated?” I teased Teke.

His greens landed on me and sparkled. I’d been getting to know that expression. It was one steeped in curiosity and keen interest. It also cued me to bring in my friendliness.

“You down?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Awww! C’mon, Wynter!” Irv encouraged. “You never wanna chill.”

“And don’t try to say you gotta work out, ‘cause what we did is enough of a workout for a whole damn month!” Teke challenged.

I shook my head at his thinking that was such a rigid workout. I was no fitness enthusiast, but I didn’t think the mountain hike to be a gladiator’s obstacle. Right now, I needed a bath and my writing pad to get some things out.

“What’s the problem? The post?” Irv asked.

“What post?” Teke’s question was anxious.

Irv tossed his chin my way. “Spilling That Hot Tea. They posted some shit about you and Raj splitting.”

My eyes closed, squeezed, then blossomed open. I couldn’t catch myself to prevent it. “What?” burst from my lips.

Teke turned to face me, examining my reaction. He was such the curious one.

“You know they stay on some bullshit,” Irv tried. “You see what they posted about y’all.” He snorted.

Teke’s greens shot derisive bullets into his bandmate. Needing to calm myself to save face, I took a deep breath with closed eyes. When they opened again, I managed a smile. “I’mma need Spilling That Hot Tea to hit me with a heads up before they shoot out their bullshit.”

Irv chuckled, pulling his basketball shorts up his hips. “Yeah. Fuck ‘em.” He pivoted to leave. “I’mma see y’all. Gotta get ready for shortie. If you see me grinding up on her in the pool, stay the hell away or I may spray y’all wit it, too.” He laughed as he took off for the stairs.

“Ilk!” Teke charged. “Nasty ass fuck!”

When he turned back to me, I made my first step to move in the opposite direction of Irv. I didn’t miss the slant in his eyes.

“Gotta go.” I singsonged, backing away from him.

“When I see outrageous shit they post about me, I deal by having a good time, living my best fucking life. Come out back and chill.”

I was to the foot of the staircase. “I’ll think about it.” I smiled, taking off for my wing.

When I glanced back once on the second floor, Teke was still there, standing with his hands on his hips. I winked, not slowing my stride. The moment I hit the long hall leading to my suite, I pulled my phone up and tapped to get to Instagram. My fingers moved feverishly until I made it to the social media gossip blog’s page. Sure enough, there was a post about speaking to someone in Raj’s camp that said he was ready to call it quits. According to this insider, Raj was finally coming to his senses now that he’d had time away from me to think. My true colors were spilling now that I was with L.I.T. Music and under the arm of Teke. It was clear I had ulterior motives and breaking into the industry was one.

That shit hurt because none of these people out here knew me. They had no reason to believe this was a lie. It was clear the hospitality I’d been shown was out of respect for Raj. Shaking my head, I made it to the suite, closed the door and immediately started shedding my clothes on the way to the bathroom.

And where’s he? My thoughts continued to cycle through my mind.

Why wasn’t he somewhere making it clear this was a lie if—if it was? What if it was true? I hadn’t heard from him once since being out here. Who’s to say he still wanted this agreement? It was, after all, between Mike Brown and me. Mike was now fighting for his life. Maybe Raj was cleaning house. This would be his out of the deal he didn’t want in the first place.

I showered and toweled off with thoughts shooting out faster than I could censor them. Was he really done with this? If Mike died, would I be free to resume my life marriage-free? What would that mean for Van? For L.I.T. Music? Before I knew it, I’d tossed on shorts and a t-shirt. I grabbed my writing portfolio and iPad and dumped myself on the massive bed and stared at the two, not knowing what to tend to first. The iPad would only lead me to more gossip about my counterfeit life. Opening the writing journal would be futile because I couldn’t stop thinking about my counterfeit life.

A knock at the door disrupted my self-torture. I hopped off the bed and curiously crossed the room.

“Oh, hey, Jackson…” I stumbled on my words because he was the last person I expected at my door.

“What’s going on, Wynter?” It wasn’t an actual question. “Just wanted to let you know the grill’s been lit downstairs. You guys been working since day one. It’ll be good to have some unity in letting your hair down. Come break bread.”

My head shook slightly and eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know you were here.”

The boss was at my bedroom door. This was unusual. He’d been in and out since we started. And when he was here, everyone wanted his personal attention, an opportunity to woo him. He’d been gracious to me. Lined me up with Diane Roberts. That fortune was unheard of.

“Flew in early. Just landed. I’ll be headed out to L.A. to meet with Young about your session next week with him.”

“Oh. Okay.” I couldn’t shake my stupor.

Jackson nodded and I thought he turned to leave. “You okay?”

My eyes shot up. “Huhn?”

His naturally hooded eyes narrowed with sincerity and his thin lips lifted some. “Are you good here? Comfortable?” Then he stepped closer and lowered his thick nose and bearded chin. “Teke ain’t laying it on too heavy, is he?” His natural baritone turned even deeper.

My face opened in understanding. “No!” I shook my head, not wanting to erupt trouble in the old boys’ club. I was no stranger to testosterone. What Teke had been serving here in Arizona was child’s play compared to what I’d seen. “Absolutely not. I hope I haven’t given that impression.”

“Nah.” He scratched the back of his head. He’s the last person I wanted to believe there was something to those rumors. “It’s just I heard you didn’t hang around much after work. Wanted to be sure I was taking care of you. Last thing I need is Raj upset because of my neglect—”

“No!” I sang, shaking my head convincingly. “Nothing like that. I’ve been on a rigid workout schedule or holed up in here trying to earn my spot in the program. I swear; it’s all good.”

With poked lips, he nodded he was convinced. “Okay. The pool is crisp,” he tried again as he walked off.

“I’ll be down.” I decided in that moment.

Jackson nodded again over his shoulder and I backed to close the door. I reached around my neck to unclasp my necklace, removing it for the first time since receiving it. Then I changed into a bathing suit and headed down to the party. 

I watched as his face scrunched, cheeks rose, and top lip hiked, looking as though he were in pain or discomfort. Hell, I was the one enduring a wire down my throat through my nose. His squinting eyes went to the hand-held camera he used to monitor my insides.

“I see some inflammation and thin mucous.” His hot breath hit my face, annoying me that he’d just finished munching on fresh salsa and tortilla chips before doing this examination.

We were on the G550, headed to Vegas, and Captain Morgan had just announced our landing in five minutes. That gave us enough time for this exam. Dr. David McHenry had been my personal physician assistant for three years now. He was available for travel when I needed a doctor. This trip I needed medical observation. I’d been working and pushing so damn hard, I could feel myself weakening. The problem was, I couldn’t stop. The constant work helped keep my sanity. The result of it was having a flexible laryngoscope snaked down my nose, into my throat.

He clicked off the camera the inserted wire was attached to, then slowly pulled the flexible wire from my nose. “Not the worse by far, but not good either. You need rest, brother. The new Pacific time zone is going to zap you soon.” He stepped back to the table across from me to clean his professional toy. I wiped my nose and grabbed my decaf green tea. “I know you go straight to the venue for a sound check, but after that, you need to get some rest.” I bucked my brows, reaching for my phone. “I’ll check you again just before you hit the stage. Take a couple of those drops before then.”

After nodding, I went to my text app and found Jashon’s message.

J-Exec: All cleared. Car waiting on the other side.

Binh worked this flight and as he approached I knew what was coming.

“Please prepare for landing, everyone.” His epicanthic folded eyes narrowed even more as he spoke. “Chairs upright and seatbelts on.”

Lil Bruh took his seat. He was kicking it with Tina about some new game for PlayStation. I pulled my seatbelt on and sat back, stretching my legs. My phone read four o’ seven, Pacific Standard Time. In my hand, my phone vibrated, and the face switched to a text.

J-Exec: Yo you see this?

Next came a screenshot from IG. It was the same post from Wynter’s account about the Chanel jewelry, but Spilling That Hot Tea’s caption read: Post and delete. That description was typical for celebrities and usually meant they realized their mistake in posting something in the first place then backtracked to delete it. It was never a good look. If they only knew, she hadn’t posted that bullshit in the first place. I felt my abs clench in fury. Powerless. I felt straight up weak in my defense of her. I hated it. 

I swiveled around to the back of the jet. Myisha sat with her legs curled under her, holding her Galaxy Tab.

“What’s the plan?”

She didn’t answer right away. I guess she’d gotten used to me sidestepping her. But I needed her attention for this.

She blinked a few times before her mouth moved. She shifted in her seat before her words were ready to spill. “Oh. Ummmm…” Her hand reached up and scratched her head then she glanced down at the tablet again. “You have sound check in like…thirty minutes. After that, you should have time to rest up for the show. I’ll be out looking for that headband to go with your ensemble tonight. I’m looking for new sunglasses, too. When I’m done, I’ll drop them off to your suite—”

“Nah. Danny G’ll pick them up from you at around seven, eight.”

Myisha’s forehead lifted. “Oh.” Her eyes skirted over to Danny G, who sat next to a shortie he brought with him. He tossed a nod to Myisha, agreeing then went back to ol’ girl with zero waist and a fat donk. I told him he could bring her on this trip and take a few hours off before the party tonight. “Okay.”

I nodded, feeling the descension of the jet into Vegas.

“I have no idea why you’re following me here!” I faux complained, just partially serious.

He trailed behind me mischievously, humming a silly ditty.

When I peered over my shoulder, wearing a goofy grin, he stopped with an open face, and gasped. “Teke never lets a fine ass woman walk to her room alone.” He held up the three-finger Scout salute. “It’s my duty to protect and serve.”

I sputtered a laugh. “Boy, please! We’re not in a crime-ridden city. This is an Arizonian ranch.”

“You’re still precious.” His expression sobered and voice deepened.

I turned ahead and saw I was just at my door. Thank goodness. Teke was playing a dangerous game after hours of drinking, eating, and socializing by the pool. I was no fool. Dude wanted to fuck. And while I appreciated his covertness, I wasn’t new to this game. Handsome as fuck and all, I wasn’t up for grabs. Perhaps if my life wasn’t a SNAFU (situation normal, all fucked up) of lies and confusion, I’d give him a try. But as it stood, even my damn heart was jacked up. My life was a mess. What he was proposing was messy. I hated mess almost as much as secrets.

“And I’m good. Thanks for the laughs, though.”

There was an elongated period of pause as his face tightened, and he readjusted his stance while apparently wrestling with something. Could Teke produce an unblemished and substantive thought?

“Why you think they put you all the way on this side of the house?” His vibrant, marble eyes glittered. “You’re away from everybody else.”

In this tipsy state, a girl could get lost in those. Squeezing my eyes, my face dropped and I pinched the bridge of my nose. 

I muttered, “I have no idea, Teke.” My head lifted and I regarded him again. “But I do know I’m tired as hell and need that bed inside.”

Lies slipped easily with him. I was nowhere near tired. My ass drank too much, to the point of looseness. If I didn’t retreat, I’d do or say something in front of these people I couldn’t take back. As jacked up as my fake marriage was, I still wouldn’t dare embarrass or compromise his reputation out here. Part of me believed Teke could smell that alcohol-induced vulnerability in me, hence his boldness tonight.

“It’s only nine,” he tried.

“And no better time for me to rest up.” I pushed down the lever to one of the doors of my suite. “Gotta get up early for my workout.” Then I opened it with a shoulder, dismissing him.

When Teke made a move to follow, a startled giggle lunged from my belly and I scurried inside, closing and locking the door behind me. My palm flew to my face in a smack. This was frustrating. Going day after day wearing a mask. There was no one I could be completely honest with about my issues: fears, desires, and…truth. That was the first spark of joviality I’d had in almost two weeks. Slowly, my eyes fluttered open as I released a long breath.

Immediately, my attention drew to the dark statue in the black and white striped upholstered chair to my right. Another alarmed shrill zipped from my belly and my eyes went wide as I leaped backward on the doors. Mid-shock is when I recognized him. He sat mannequin-esque still with his legs spread apart and brawny arms stretched on either side of the rests. His chin toward the floor, but fiery amber orbs set decidedly on me. They were dark, intent, and wroth…on me.

Instantly, my distress heated to fury. Before I fully contemplated it, my feet were on the move to him. My mouth balled angrily.

“Why the fuck are you here?” I croaked, suddenly out of breath.

He didn’t move, didn’t utter a sound. I couldn’t dismiss the sharp precision in his hairline. The dark small twists on his head looked groomed and glistened, and his beard was thick and fuller than I was used to seeing it. One faded, messy brow was arched high with righteous indignation. His rayless eyes raked over my heaving body starting from my head, down my hard face, to my moving chest, then pelvis, and finally legs and feet. But I noticed when they distinctly journeyed back up to my chest.

I lifted my arm toward the door. “Answer me or get the fuck out!”

After a pregnant pause filled with my anxious anticipation, he slowly stood to his feet. Without preamble, he stepped dangerously close to me, his eyes plastered to my chest—and not even my breasts—my chest for some odd reason I didn’t care to deduce. I knew he was weird as fuck but had no more time to waste. And—

Damn…

I was in pain. The raw, gut-wrenching ache I’d associated with the memory of him had resurfaced. My face tightened more, eyes strained to hold the tears in, and my lips trembled uncontrollably. It was painful to allow the tears to fall, and yet agony fighting to hold them inside. I decided on the latter.

And why the fuck was he staring at my chest? My fingers, instinctively, touched where my tear drop diamond hung. That’s when my lungs seized, and it clicked. I didn’t want to cave in defeat. It was missing. I’d taken it off earlier, thinking I may go for a swim. I’d been getting in the pool with it since being here, but consciously. Today was the first time I’d taken it off since he clasped it on my neck.

But what explanation did I owe him? He fucking ran from me—ran me off like it was easy to do. My heart was still stitched up, staples popping out every few days when I would succumb to the agony of his warm memory. He fucking hurt me and didn’t give me time to defend myself.

Before I could move to my next thought, my arm flew in the air at rapid speed and the palm of my hand collided with the side of his bearded face. His head swayed slightly, but those dark eyes remained on me. My heart beat violently in my chest. His indifference charged me with anger, and contempt pumped heatedly through my veins.

His nostrils were wide, breathing audible as he glared down at me. He wouldn’t give me a response…the response I needed. All of this because I didn’t wear the necklace? Oh, that was more important than my feelings a couple of weeks ago at his estate? I hauled off and slapped his ass again.

His hand came up faster than I could register and protect myself. My thin tank, torn at the cleavage as part of its design was ripped, severed completely. I glanced down at his handiwork, following his gape. My nipples rose to hard buds from sudden exposure. Exposed. I was bare to him.

I felt my chest heave uncontrollably. My livid glare lifted and with balled lips, I struck him across the face again.

His reaction was in a flash when I was lifted into the air like a toddler. In route, my face jerked too close to his. I could smell too much of his delicious scent. His heat was something I once knew—even if for just a brief period—causing my resistance to vanish. And I went for it. My hands clasped at the back of his head, his soft hairs brushed against my fingers and palms, and my lips collided with his. I would have easily thought I was the aggressor if his tongue didn’t hastily slip into my parted lips, sweeping with lust. 

He swiped inside my mouth with propriety. His big piping hot hands gripped my ass, chilling me with lascivious defeat. Then I was tossed onto the mattress, the unexpected thump snapping me out of my stupor. He sat up on the back of his legs, thighs spread apart, aside my own. His palms rested over them as he continued to study me.

My face spasmed again. And again, I wouldn’t let my tears betray me…not in front of him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded again.

His eyes narrowed at my chest.

“Don’t! Don’t you fucking trip over jewelry after what you did to me. I don’t owe you or your manipulative ass cousin shit. Just go ‘head and sign the divorce—”

My protest was muzzled by those lips I’d been craving at night and early mornings—any time I hadn’t been distracted by work. The lips that drove me to work out to distract me physically. I chased his tongue, tasted and wrestled with it until I could no longer breathe. His withdrew and the angry V carved between his brows appeared. Even angry, he was damn it delicious. I knew it wasn’t right. I’d been telling myself this self-consciously since laying eyes on him. But my body was still deeded to him. My hands going to the waist of his jeans was evidence of that.

I watched as his eyes followed. My touch was rushed and desperate and my mind couldn’t catch up to stop. I made quick work of undoing his jeans then my greedy hand went to his erection. Clearly, I moved too fast because he leaped up to his knees to relieve himself of my coarse touch. The payoff was the sight of his thickness jutting. He wasn’t at full mast, but it was him—it. The Apa was present. The presence of the bar disappeared, the balls nearing toward his thickening flesh. I couldn’t fucking breathe; it was such a beautiful sight. My eyes swung up to find his moving from it to me, only this time his lips stained with my lipstick were parted.

A pulse of rage coursed through my chest again and I whacked him across the face. Again. Again, his head swayed slightly, but his regard turned darker. That swift act of violence only seemed to aggrandize him. His dick doubled in size.

My heart banged against the wall of my chest. So many emotions running through me at one time.

“I fucking hate you,” I hissed.

His eyes dropped to my hand gripping his engorged dick and he shook his head.

The fucker drips arrogance at a time like this?

Then his hands were at the waist of my shorts. With quick work, they were unfastened and being yanked down my hips.

“You need consent,” I grated angrily. “I won’t hold your hand through that process.” I wanted him affected. Hurt as he’d done me. I’d say anything to do it.

For a brief moment, he froze, eyes rolling around considering my threat. Reading between those lines. But he scooted back after a while and slid my shorts and panties down my legs and off, knocking my flip flops from my feet. He stood to his knees between my thighs and pulled them apart. He pushed them back to my chest, gazing heatedly at my bared sex. My eyes wandered to his pulsing cock, the barbells as it stood next to his belly button.

His hand came down and he stroked himself.  A groan shot from his belly, it sounded tortured. I was out of breath, mouth agape as I fought for control. My eyes lost focus and vision blurred as the sight of a dollop of liquid appeared from the dimpled head. Before I could regain my sight, he aligned it against my dripping sex. And then he breached me. Pain, pleasure, familiarity, and another unnamed reaction flashed through my body, causing my eyes to close. The gentle rocking of him inside me, forced me to be here, in the moment with him. I wouldn’t break. Not for him.

When I saw the muscles around his eyes loosen, the crooked vein in his forehead protrude, and his jaw hang in the air, my heart swelled. A flutter of bliss flashed in my groin. My fists gathered tightly at my shoulders, but my hips widened for him, needing him deeper. His hips swirled and screwed to meet my welcoming. I could feel my flesh softening and swelling around him. His head dipped and his tongue lashed my right nipple that bounced from his thrusts. My spine arched over the bed and my groin threatened an explosion. I hated the way my body immediately responded to him.

And I slapped his chest with one hand. The other followed, then again. Again. As my blows landed, my pussy soaked up more and more of him. He didn’t flinch or move to eject his pleasure tool from me. If he knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t either. I couldn’t control my emotions. I hated him and needed him. That concoction sent me insane.

The levy broke, and the first tear fell.

“I fucking hate your guts!” I grounded out with squeezed eyes and a pulsating sex. “I cared about your troubled ass.”

My wrists were seized and pushed aside my head.

“And I fell in love with you,” he growled inches from my nose.

My eyes shot open and lungs froze.

“No!” I breathed out.

He was lying. There was no way!

But it was too late. His angry glare didn’t reflect the efforts of his plummets because they became more aggressive. The Apa had found a sweet sensitive target and banged and banged and ban—

“Oh, shiiiiiiiiit,” I cried, feeling my body come apart underneath his meaty frame.

He drove into me with a demanding thrust my body convulsed from and my heart bled from. I couldn’t contain the tears. Bliss coated me, and betrayal whispered seductively in my ear as I released my fists and circled his neck, lifting my pussy for battering. My heart, too. I held onto him like I needed him to breathe. My core roiled and churned as I came to a dizzying intensity.

When my groin slowed enough, my arms released him and back fell onto the mattress. I lay splayed beneath him. He withdrew, eliciting a moan from me, then his soft mouth was at my right breast. His tongue circling, lips suctioning, mouth teasing. The pace was unhurried, but the action was deliberate. He was keeping me warm as I came down from an earth-shattering orgasm. My weeping was completely ignored, but my handling was gentle.

I tried pushing him away, feeling awkward with my level of vulnerability. He took my hand and placed it over his galloping heart as his imposing frame hovered over me. I didn’t know when his shirt came off. The rhythm disturbed me, it pounded so hard and fast.

“Wyn…” his timber so deep, voice so low I barely heard him petition my eyes open. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

That quickly the mercurial maniac had turned from angry and indifferent to passionate and regretful.

This fucker…

I sniffled the tears back.

My hand was shifted from his chest to between us, then between my sweaty thighs. I couldn’t believe I’d been worked up to the point of sweating already. When my fingers brushed against my sex, I gasped, and my eyes opened to his heated ones. He slowly crawled down the bed, not removing his eyes from me. When he settled between my twitching thighs, he tossed his chin to tell me to start. Before I could process this request, his tongue darted and swiped against my fingers. He wanted guidance, a reenactment of Saint Justin.

The best time of my life…

My body was still recovering, but my damn fingers moved to my slippery labia. Damn… I could feel my juices on my thigh against my wrist. He moaned as he laved in the wake of my fingers. When I clamped on one with a finger and my thumb, he sucked on it, taking as much in his mouth as he could. When my two digits roved the opening of my sex, his tongue dived in with gusto. After his girth and Apa work, his tongue soothed and tickled the swelling left behind.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head, body slowing to a relaxed state. When I was ready, my fingers swiped up to my clit. His lashings were eager and his breathing matched the intensity. He used his big hands to pull me closer as he groaned. It didn’t take much. Wasn’t long before my spine snapped and shoulders trembled from another explosion.

“Ooooh…” I moaned, gripping the back of his head.

I let up when the contractions did. And he pulled back, lay his head on my inner thigh, soiling his hair, face and beard with my essence. His eyes were squeezed tight and he looked pained down there. Revelation hit and I panicked while my body still hummed from the earthquake.

“Ar—Are you okay? Is this hard for you?” I whispered, barely able to speak. “Is…this affecting you? Taking you somewhere?”

With his eyes closed, he croaked in a deep tenor, “No, baby. I’m just feeling more love and regret for you than I can handle.” His strained eyes cast to meet mine. “I’ve never felt this for anybody.”

I dropped back onto the mattress, rolling my eyes, shutting out the sharp pain. I would not do it. I wouldn’t be that girl to fall for a guy because of his surfaced torment. His troubles had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the secrets he carried for that crazy ass family. I wouldn’t be a punching bag for anyone just because I could take the blows. I was tired of that shit.

Hot tears fell again, burning the sides of my face.

Abruptly, I was lifted from the bed and flipped over until I was on all fours.

“Raj…” I cried.

I could feel the crown of his cock, pushing between my cheeks. This position, it melted me. In an instant, I was heated all over. I knew the power he had in this one. When the Apa came alive times ten for me. I could never come from behind until my husband…and his apadravya piercing. Just like now, once settled deep, his thick cock massaged my walls, stimulating them while barbell balls banged around back there, deep inside. He rocked deep and thrust hard. When he took me at the shoulders and pulled me into his hard chest, his big arms wrapped tightly around me, holding on to me as though I was needed by him.

This proximity deluded me, addled me. It made me feel as kept as I should have when he pushed me out the back door of his estate. But his hold…this position as his waist rolled, bringing me oodles of pleasure I didn’t know how to handle because I’d never had it this way, it drove me crazy. When he bit down on that sweet spot between my neck and shoulder, my body shuddered, and I felt helpless. Weakened by a power he wielded over me. One I wasn’t used to.

“Please don’t cry.” His words were choppy due to those deep drives.  

“I’m trying not to.” My eyes squeezed closed. “You’re not worth a single one of them.”

But he was. He was worth more than he knew. I just didn’t believe I was the woman to meet his needs.

“I’m going to make this right. I swear.”

“How? We’re divorcing—” A sharp sensation of pleasure shot through my groin. I breathed through it. “Remember?”

“Never, baby.” His delivery was more like a cry as he plunged into me.

The pleasure struck then expanded in my groin, making my movements meeting his thrusts urgent. I plopped back on him, smacking my ass into his thighs, being filled by his wild sword.

This was wrong. All wrong. But damn, she felt so right. I didn’t come here to attack her. I only came to clear up a few things. And to see her. I needed to see her. And feel her. I would’ve settled for a handshake. Would have paid for a hug.

But this…

Having her in my arms while reaching the depths of her didn’t help my obsession. I clasped against her softness, felt her toned thighs around me before plunging her from behind. For the first time in my life, I held my heart in my hands. Her body glistened from sweat and trembled with controlled desire. And her mouth… I grabbed her at the chin, feeling her ragged breathing just as much as hearing it and I swallowed her mouth. My tongue pushed forcefully into her mouth and at first, she didn’t react, lips lay collapsed. But after a minute or so, I felt the aggression of her tongue. She tasted me, teased me, grabbed me at the back of the head. 

Like an animal, I found myself licking a trail from her shoulder to her ear, wanting to taste her sweat. I needed to experience her in every way, to carve her into my memory. My grasp slipped a few times from her wet hips, but my grip was tight, anchoring her for my dives. My head swam from her smell, feel, and cushioned pussy.  I was prepared. Was prepared to accept if she told me she wanted something different after the way I let her go. I told myself to eat it if she even had the balls to tell me she wanted to be with another dude. I came prepared for everything…except this.

When she pushed her fingertips into the back of my head and dropped back on me, massaging my wood with her tightness, I remembered. I remembered her passionate side. I recalled how I didn’t know a lot about Wynter, but I had a clue about my lover. And my lover was deliberate, bold, and unapologetic. If she was giving me her body, it was with intent. There was hope. I just hoped I had the time to earn her trust again.

When I felt her cheeks squeeze tight and her shoulders jerk, her mouth relaxed and pussy tightened. Then my balls seized and belly leaped. Wynter moaned, her shoulders now vibrating. My thighs shook beneath hers and I blasted off, feeling my hot cum shoot into her quivering pussy.

For me… All for me.

My head swam in delirium as my pelvis bounced on the back of her legs until I was empty. Easing up on my grip, I traced my fingertips down her thick, spread thighs. My tongue caressed her sweaty neck and she trembled, falling back into my chest, mumbling her approval incoherently. I wanted to lay her down and pour my heart out to her. Wanted to name to her every demon haunting me. We could do it, hash it out here in this room. We wouldn’t leave until I was gutted and totally open to her.

“Your phone.” She swallowed hard, her voice hoarse.

My eyes opened first. Her words were emitted so softly. Then I heard the vibration from near.

“Your phone, Raj,” she repeated.

My eyes closed again, squeezing at the reminder of time. I had to go. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed her pillowy hips and pulled out of her. A shiver ran from the back of my head to my ass when I did. I reached down to my pants at my ankles and pulled my cell from my pocket. It was a text from Lil Bruh, saying it was time.

“Shit…” I groaned then rubbed my hands down my face.

It didn’t escape me when Wynter scuffled to the other end of the bed, holding her tits in her arm protectively. Her eyes were red and face wet. I felt like shit. Pushing from the bed to pull my jeans on, I tried to speak, but no words left my brain. I grabbed her little t-shirt I’d snatched off and wiped myself clean of her, even though I wanted to bathe in her juices. Wynter sat quiet, gaping at me like a wild woman while I tried to find the words.

After buttoning them, my phone vibrated again. Without reading it, I hit Lil Bruh back that I was on my way. My wary eyes went to my wife’s, whose mirrored mine. Was she scared of me? She damn sure looked broken.

“I—” I tried. Dropping my head back and closing my eyes, I tried again. “I didn’t come here for this.”

“Then, again, why are you here?”

As cold as her words were, they did spring my brain into function. I went to my back pocket and grabbed the folded envelope. Then I tossed it to her across the bed.

“That’s one reason. My main reason was to see you. Let you look me in the eyes.”

“For what?” Her face lifted as though she was going to cry again.

“So you can remember me.”

“I don’t even know you.”

My eyes closed again. I squeezed them against the wave of tightness I felt in my chest. “You do. I swear, you know more than most. I want you to know more. All of me.”

Wynter didn’t speak. Her eyes closed, too, and then tears fell from them. That was it. I had to go. I was out of time and my being there seemed to be causing her more pain than understanding. I walked toward the door. Then my legs stopped. I turned around and caught a last view of her. Wynter didn’t look like the rock she did when she left my estate. She looked well-fucked and broken. Without thinking, I reared back on the bed and looked down at her with a full heart, ready to burst.

I took her face in my hands and kissed her sweetly. Smelling her essence on my lips turned the kiss passionate. Our tongues locked and swirled. A moan pushed from her belly and my dick swelled in my jeans again. I only stopped when I felt lightheaded and needed to either breathe or be inside her again. Trying to catch my breath, I lay my forehead against hers. Wynter’s eyes were closed and cheeks lifted as though she was going to cry again.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please just trust me enough to give me more time to figure this out.”

“You can walk away.” She sniffled. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Bullshit!” I knew by the way she hit me, the way she held on to me while I dug into her. “Read the instructions in the envelope and follow it to a T. Please, baby.”

I would beg if I had time. With crazy regret, I let go of her and headed to the door. I chose not to give a last glance to her, thinking it wouldn’t be wise. When I closed the door behind me, I couldn’t decide if I felt better about my decision to creep up on her or worse about tasting her again. Wynter made me understand the weakness of men in love. Why the greats sang about begging, crying, and pleading. I would do it all for her.

I found my way downstairs without running into anyone. When I came in, a housekeeper told me where her room was without questioning me. A part of me wanted to hire security to keep her safe. The more rational me told me not to ignore the glimmer in old girl’s eyes from recognizing me. Of course, she knew I was Wynter’s husband. Remembering my way to the garage, I passed a room that looked like a lounge. Two guys were on big recliners talking. One caught my attention as I did his. Only his eyes didn’t twinkle for me like they did when he posed for pictures with my girl. My steps broke a little as I recognized him and Jon. Jon kept chopping it up, not seeing me.

My phone buzzing in my hand reminded me why I wasn’t still upstairs, buried balls deep into my wife, begging for her love. I took off just as quietly as I strolled in.

I had several windows in the room split between two different views of the house. I ran to several until I found my target. Lil Bruh stood next to the open door. Pathetically, I watched him hop into the waiting car near the garage door, disappearing into the night like a damn thief. I had no idea he was in Arizona and wondered how long he’d been here in the house. Did he see me outside? What if I hadn’t come up when I did?

Like a damn fool, I watched the car until its brake lights disappeared from my view and didn’t stop a moment sooner. Not even his sea of men dripping down my throbbing thighs could get me to leave that spot until I knew he was gone.

Again.