Jayla
The drive back to my place was awkward amongst other things; Jamila’s teasing smirk from the passenger’s seat annoying the hell out of me while my body still radiated with the heat from everything Khalid had done to me - or everything I did to him.
It was a perfectly mutual exchange of… energy; something I wouldn’t be able to forget no matter how hard I tried. And I honestly wasn’t even sure if I wanted to forget considering we would’ve probably been at it again by now had it not been for Shaq and Mila’s poor timing. But since I knew my sister’s petty ass wasn’t letting this go anytime soon, I decided to address the elephant in the backseat when I told her, “This is all your fault.”
With a hand to her chest, she turned and asked, “My fault? I didn’t throw you onto Khalid’s dick. That was all you, Jay.”
“But if you wouldn’t have been sneaking around town doing who knows what with Shaq, I would’ve left at a regular time just like everyone else,” I reasoned, knowing it was a stretch since it wasn’t like I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.
Jamila knew it too, making it easy for her to reply, “Well, you didn’t. And it worked out in your favor cause he definitely dicked you down somethin’ proper.”
“I’m sure I wasn’t the only one getting dicked down somethin’ proper…” I muttered, hoping to take the spotlight off myself and put it on her.
But to my surprise, her grin only turned a little silly when she said, “Actually, you were. Shaq and I just went to the highest point of the city to try some special strain of weed he had. Something about elevating the effects by literally being elevated which was why I didn’t have any service on my phone. But it was honestly a little romantic. Much more romantic than whatever you and...”
“Shut it. You know nothing,” I stated firmly, the details of it all being the furthest thing from her business.
Still, that didn’t stop her from insisting, “I know enough. And my opinion of you has only grown substantially.”
“Seriously, Mila?” I asked with a roll of my eyes as I pulled up next to where her car was parked and finally checked my wig out in the mirror, the embarrassment from earlier doubling in size since it was more than just a little crooked.
But there was nothing I could do about it now besides fix it, doing just that as Mila squealed, “Yes, seriously! After that fluke of a situation with carbon copy Jason, I didn’t think you’d give casual fuckin’ a real chance any time soon. But it looks good on you, sis. Khalid is a good look.”
“Khalid is my client,” I reminded her - or myself, trying to figure out how I would tread those waters now that we had officially crossed that line. But thoughts of a next step felt premature considering the soreness between my thighs was just now beginning to settle in.
Of course, Jamila wasn’t at all fazed by the possible complications, quick to add, “Your fine ass client who adores your uptight behind and obviously has an exceptional dick that you’ll be thinking about every time you look at him. Yeah okay, Jayla. Strictly business.”
I wanted to deny her claims, but there was really no use since she had read my ass with ease. I mean, Khalid was definitely fine, was certainly showing some level of interest in me, and the dick… well, that just spoke for itself.
So instead of even addressing what she had said at all, I waited for her to climb out of the car before I told her, “Text me when you make it home, please.”
“And text Khalid like you said you would,” she replied, hovering over the door with a demanding expression as if she expected me to do it right now while she could see me.
It was a smart move since she knew the matter wouldn’t have been anywhere near urgent otherwise. But it was also the perfect opportunity for me to play the older sister card when I told her, “Mind your business, Mila.”
With a shrug, she insisted, “I’m just trying to help. I mean, if you don’t text him, I can guarantee someone else will. But if you’d rather have him take that second round out on a random in his inbox, go right ahead.”
As if I was already addicted, the mention of a “second round” had me reaching for my phone, stopping short of actually sending him a text by reasoning, “He’s probably already asleep by now.”
“The way that nigga looks at you? Nah, he’s definitely waiting by the phone,” Jamila replied, giving a little wave as she sang, “Have a good night, Jay.” Then she climbed into her car and gave another little wave through the window before pulling off and leaving me to my thoughts.
And the fresh layer of wetness between my thighs.
With a frustrated sigh, I reached into the backseat for my jacket, fishing around with my hand before turning around to see it wasn’t there. And once I realized why it was missing - because I had left it at Khalid’s - I dropped my head back against the headrest with another sigh, trying to decide if this was a sign from God or a trick by the devil.
“Gotta be God,” I concluded, grabbing my phone to shoot Khalid an innocent text before I changed my mind.
“Hey. Did I leave my jacket at your place?” - Jayla
As if he was waiting by his phone like Mila insisted, his response came almost instantly.
“Yup. You coming back to get it?” - Khalid
Gnawing on my lip, I was just about ready to start my car up until I thought about the company who had interrupted us in the first place. And with Shaq in my head, it was easy to turn down what seemed like an invitation.
“It’s not that big of a deal. I can get it Monday at work.” - Jayla
“Nah, this is a personal matter, so I’m not bringing it to work. If you want it, you gotta come by the crib and get it. ;)” - Khalid
“Oh, he thinks he’s slick,” I thought with a grin, typing out the solution I knew he wasn’t trying to hear.
“Then I’ll come by tomorrow morning and get it.” - Jayla
“It might be in a donation box by then, shorty. Just swing back by real quick.” - Khalid
Knowing his cousin was there, going back to Khalid’s wasn’t really an option; though it probably should’ve been since having company around was the only thing that would keep me from pouncing on his ass now that I knew what he was working with. And just the thought of getting another fix had me firing off a text I’d surely regret in the morning.
“Or you could just drop it off here…?” - Jayla
Waiting for a response had me anxious, mainly because I didn’t want Khalid thinking I was taking advantage of the circumstances. I mean, he was clearly wide open, and I was just… working on it, meaning while I might’ve been ready for more of the physical, the idea of anything beyond that wasn’t on my personal agenda. But according to his reply, he seemed to be on the same page.
“If I come by your place, this jacket ain’t the only thing I’m droppin’ off, Jayla.” - Khalid
By now, I was practically gnawing a hole through my lip, typing out a quick reply before I finally got out of the car.
“You sound so sure. ;)” - Jayla
Tucking my phone into my purse, I made sure I got myself into my apartment safely - and without any annoying bouquets from Jason - before I checked for a response.
“Because I am sure. So what’s up?” - Khalid
His arrogance had me hot all over again, leaning into the countertop for support as I calculated how much time I had to freshen up before he’d be arriving. But there wasn’t even a second thought when it came to texting him my address with a reminder to bring my jacket.
&
The sexy smirk on Khalid’s face when I opened the door told me I had made the right decision in inviting him over - and the right decision of changing into something a little sexier.
My silk robe was tied at the waist over a lingerie set I hadn’t pulled out in far too long, my furry Fenty Puma Rihanna slides which Jamila referred to as “dick-appointment slippers” were on my feet to let him know I meant business, and yes, even my wig was straightened, secured, and ready for action.
It was the first thing Khalid commented on, pinching my chin as he teased, “Awww. You fixed your hair just for me to come over here and fuck it up again. How cute.”
Slapping his hand away with a giggle, I let him inside, adding an extra sway to my hips since I knew he was watching even when I threatened, “Keep talking and I might not wear my wig at all.”
He caught up to my steps to pull me back against him, wrapping his arms low around my waist and growling into my ear, “You think I really give a damn about a wig when you got all this goin’ on? Take it off, hang it up, put a bonnet on, do whatever you gotta do, shorty. I honestly don’t give a fuck.”
I turned around in his hold with another little giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck when I told him, “For someone with hair, I find it hard to believe you really don’t care about it as much as you claim you don’t.”
“You see how scruffy my shit is right now, don’t you? I already told Londyn earlier, I’m just about ready to cut it all off,” he replied so plainly that his words almost didn’t register in my head.
But once they did...“What? No! I mean, your locs are like... apart of your brand now. And I haven’t even gotten a chance to pull on them yet,” I told him, playfully giving some of the back ones a slight tug as a preview of what I really wanted to do.
Instead of flinching, he only smirked. “That’s a little selfish of you, Ms. Mitchell. Valid, but selfish.”
“If I don’t look out for me, then who will?”
“Right now? Me. But tomorrow? I can’t call it,” he replied in a way that fell heavy on my chest.
In fact, it was so heavy that I pulled away from him, asking out loud, “Why’d that honesty feel so brutal?”
The question was more for myself than Khalid since I wasn’t sure why it affected me at all. I mean, that was what I wanted, so it really should’ve been music to my ears. But it made sense once Khalid followed me to answer, “Cause you know I’d do whatever for you, but you’re too scared to accept it. So you’d rather fight the war of this world solo-dolo instead of just letting me be the one looking out for you.”
Just like that, all the sexual energy I started with had turned emotional in a way that I wasn’t ready for, Khalid’s rawness doing a number on my heart that had no business being involved. But I suppose after dealing with someone who made up the stupidest of lies day in and day out, to have someone be completely honest and straightforward was… refreshing.
And it made me want to reciprocate.
So I laid it all out there, grabbing his hands when I expressed, “Khalid, look. I really do like you. It’s just… I’m not really looking for anything serious right now, and it seems like you are. And I don’t want to give you the wrong impression by letting this become a thing if you’re expecting it to be more. I lost a lot of what I thought I knew about myself with the move and the divorce, and I guess I just need some time to… learn the new me. By myself.”
It was a strange predicament; being on the verge of turning thirty but somehow also being a beginner in so many ways, figuring out who I really was and what I wanted to be, navigating my personal life as a single woman and my professional one as the “new girl”, discovering the various changes in my body and with my sexuality. But they were all things I was excited about, and I could only hope Khalid would understand; though I would be just fine if he didn’t since this was about me and only me.
After my spiel, the silence between us was long and thick to the point where I just knew Khalid was getting ready to bolt out of the door. But to my surprise, he brought a gentle hand to my cheek, offering a little smirk once he finally replied, “Just be my homie for now. We can do that whole fallin’ in love thing later.”
The smile that grew to my face in response felt premature without confirming, “So we’re good?”
“Yes, boss lady. We’re good,” he answered with an enthusiastic nod before slowly pulling me back against his chest into a hug.
It felt great to be in his arms, and especially great to have his support. But now that we were on the same page, it felt more appropriate to ask, “So… can we get to what you came over here for, or...?”
“Yeah,” he replied, reaching back to grab whatever he had left by the door then shoving it into my hands. “Here’s your jacket.”
“Quit fuckin’ with me, Khalid,” I scolded, his laugh in response reverberating throughout the front room as I tossed the jacket to the side. “What’s so funny?”
“Seeing you at work on your uppity negro shit and then seeing you off the clock, drinking, talking shit, tryna fuck and all that. It’s mad cute,” he answered with a little tug at the bow that was keeping my robe closed.
I caught it just before it opened so that I could have his full attention when I defended, “First of all, I’m never on some uppity negro shit. I keep it professional, yes. But I’m no one’s Auntie Tom. Second of all, I’m not trying to fuck you. I am about to fuck you.”
He laughed again. “See what I mean. Even when you want some dick, you make it sound proper. Not that I’m against it; obviously. I’m just stating an observation. It’s cute.”
“Well, what am I supposed to say that’s less cute, and more, you know I’m about to snatch your black ass soul?” I asked, letting the robe peek open just enough to make it clear I wasn’t on any “cute” shit.
The glimpse earned me an appreciative, “Damn” before he licked his lips to reply, “I don’t know. Put some of that bad bitch swag you always braggin’ about in your Instagram captions on it.”
“Ahh, so I have to be Natasha Fierce to get your attention?” I asked with a sly grin, flipping the front of the robe back to fully unveil what I had going on underneath; an ensemble that definitely fit within the Natasha Fierce guidelines.
This time, Khalid couldn’t keep his hands off me, his fingers gently grazing my abdomen when he answered, “You already have my attention, Jayla. But who the hell is Natasha Fierce?”
Between my groans in response to his touch, I managed to explain, “Beyoncé has Sasha Fierce. My alter ego is her cousin, Natasha Fierce.”
With a sexy chuckle, he moved his fingers from my stomach to my ass, giving it a full squeeze when he asked, “So when I’m hittin’ this from the back in a couple minutes, am I supposed to call you Jayla or Natasha?”
“Do you have an ex, or someone who thought she was an ex, named Natasha?”
The question came from a dark place, back when Jason would call me the names of different women he claimed were from his past when his slip-ups were really based on whatever out of town flavor of the week he called himself dealing with. But Khalid wasn’t Jason. And as if to punish me for even comparing the two in my head, he gave me a hard smack on the ass that made me squeal before he answered, “Can’t say that I do.”
“Then I’ll let you pick. But I’ll be damned if you mix me up with one of your other chicks,” I warned, taking the opportunity to set the record straight while things were still new; something I hadn’t done with Jason, wholeheartedly believing I didn’t need to.
Once again, Khalid reminded me that they weren’t at all the same person, frowning when he replied, “Never that,” before leaning in to whisper against my lips, “Ain’t none of them got it like you, baby.”
With my bottom lip pulled between my teeth, I whispered back, “In that case, come fuck me like your career depends on it.”
“Well damn, Natasha,” he blurted with a nervous laugh, only making my grin grow even more mischievous once I put on faux-innocence to ask, “Too much?”
“Considering part of my career is really in your hands? Absolutely.”
I was sure he assumed me asking meant I would let up if he felt overwhelmed. But really, his answer only made me feel that much more empowered in my decision to let this happen, my inner-bad bitch fully activated when I dropped my robe to reply, “Well… you better fuck me like you mean it then.”