~12~

I watched wildly fascinated as she smeared the last of her roasted sweet potato and arugula salad against the homemade salad dressing left on the plate. When she started chewing it and her eyes mindlessly came up, I moved mine to my grandmother at the end of the table, humming as she wiped her mouth and chewed the last of her food.

“Thank you, Lord,” she whispered privately.

My eyes swung over to Wynter, who was looking at me already. Again, I found myself attempting to “get her.” What was her angle? I’d seen her snappy and annoyed, but this mood she was in now, the one after having weaseled her way back there on my property… I expected her to judge me for having Arnie back there and ask why he wasn’t in the main house, or to be overly-sympathetic about me having a brother, who’s different and using that discovery to forge a “deep” relationship. But…no. The ride back was quiet, other than the engine and crackling road beneath.

She’d been reacting the same way she did when she met my—what had to be to her—peculiar grandmother, who liked community prayer, praise and worship, and Bible study. Wynter had given no reasons, over the past two weeks, for me to believe she was religious or a believer. But she sat respectfully through every “spiritual” session she had been invited to since the first night grandmother pulled up to the crib. She didn’t laugh, snicker, or wear any reaction on her face but kindness and acceptance.

So it seems...

Before meeting them down here for dinner, I went to all her social media handles and saw she only posted pictures of my wooded property, toward the back of the estate, before Arnie’s stable. She used the caption, #BlessingsAllAround, referring to the trees towering over her. On another she wrote, #HesTurningMeInToANatureGirl #McKinnonGirl. That one had me wiping a growing smirk from my face. I had to remind myself Wynter was just playing her part. There were no pictures of my brother or hints of her meeting him, and that made me happy.

“Wynter, baby, you look tired,” my grandmother observed.

Wynter pushed her plate up and exhaled, stretching out in her seat. “Because I am, Pastor McKinnon.”

Damn…

If she didn’t look…sexy explaining that on a moan, her arms in the air and chest pushing out. Why did that appeal to me? Why did my mind race to our workout sessions when she spoke little, but attempted every task I charged her with, without much complaint?

“You’re family, daughter.” My grandmother smiled shyly. “You can call me grandmother.”

Wynter’s eyes popped and she hesitated before speaking. “Oh, wow. Thanks. I’d prefer Grandmother McKinnon; at least…that’s close to what Raj calls you.” She looked across the table to me.

“It is, ain’t it,” Grandmother didn’t pose as a question. Her smile deepened. “You know…” She took a deep breath and tossed her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “The Lord has been dealing with me concerning the two of you.” Slowly, I looked over to Wynter and saw her eyes just as nervous as mine. “You know, He said, ‘The Lord your God chose you from among all other people on earth to be His treasured people. The Lord your God chose you from among all other people on Earth to be His treasured people.’” She rocked in her seat, face tight, and eyes still to the chandelier above. “It was over and over again, you know. And I asked Him, ‘Lord, what are You saying? I don’t understand. I know I’ve been staying in their lovely home and I’m sensitive to their spirits and what’s attached to them, but what does this mean?’”

My heart began to pound at that. What was she about to say?

“So…” She crossed her arms, grabbing her chin, studying my expensive ass ceiling lamp. “…about last night when I was in meditation, He said even though it don’t seem like it now, He’s going to use you two to change the world! He said what started out as unpure and full of confusion is ordained to be a powerful partnership and addition to the Kingdom of Christ! Aye!” she shouted, clapping her hands.

This time, Wynter did have a reaction. I could almost read, do something right now! on her expression. Faintly, I shook my head. She needed to chill right now. You don’t object during a prophetic word being given—even if there is a load of bullshit involved.

“Yes, baby.” My grandmother leaned into the table. “No matter what order you did things in to get here, God is going to turn it for His good!” The authority in that declaration was unshakeable.

Grandmother was confident in her Word from the Lord.

“Au—are you suggesting I had premarital sex?” Wynter’s voice was unrecognizable.

“No, baby!” My grandmother shook her head guiltily because that was exactly what she was implying. “I’m not here to judge you. I’m just telling you what sayeth the Lord our God. The past is in the past! Hallelujaaaaaah!” she singsonged.

Here it is…

This was the time where Wynter would snap, lose it on my grandmother and all this shit building since October was about to blow.  

This bat shit, crazy ass woman is telling me God told her I fucked her grandson?

I fought hard to school my expression. I knew how to do it. I had learned to work effectively with hardened criminals. This shit was getting out of hand. It was clear Ragee had the ultimate level of respect for this woman and she was highly respected in her church and family, but I couldn’t have false psychic readings. I wasn’t religious, but still didn’t play with God.

And neither did Raj, so I thought…

But she lied about insinuating I fucked him, too. So, yeah, she has decorum, but she was out of line on so many levels!

My face tightened as I searched for the right words. “Grandmother McKinnon…”

“Yeah, baby?” she answered eagerly.

I twisted my neck, turning my head down toward my right shoulder, unable to look at her and come up with non-offensive words.

“Just please pray for me. I want to do what’s right by God.” My eyes traveled up to her.

It was the best I could do to stay in the right “lane” with her grandson.

Pastor McKinnon’s eyes lit and relief washed over her face. “It is my duty, baby…for you and Gee-Gee!”

I found myself nodding. “Thank you.” I forged a smile.

“I have a savory rendition of baked banana pudding for you, Pastor McKinnon.” Earl appeared, collecting our plates. “You just say the word.”

She giggled. “Sounds good.” She nodded with a smile. “But I’m tired. Old knee done swelled up on me today from praying too long this morning. I think I’mma turn in early, son.”

Earl made the tsk-tsk sound while he worked his way around the table. “Okay, but if you get one of those late night itches, a scoop will be in Tupperware with your name on it.” He winked at her, stopped, and held a stack of soiled plates with one hand in the air. “Mrs. McKinnon, for you, I have frozen yogurt bars. Inside each is fresh strawberries, raspberries, or blueberries—just one fruit per bar.” He finger-kissed the air. “Exquisite!”

“Ummmm…” I hesitated. “I think I’m going to skip out on dessert, too, tonight.” The air in the room seemed to have frozen.

It wasn’t like me to pass on food, especially with this sucky diet plan I’d been on. But I’d been pushed too far today, and was still processing Pastor McKinnon’s false accusation. I knew with just a few minutes, I’d bounce back, but right now, I had no appetite.

“Okay, Grandmother,” Ragee’s tone screamed distraction. If Earl was clueless as to the tension in the room when he waltzed in, he certainly was in the know now. “Let me walk you to your room.”

Earl quietly excused himself. Pastor McKinnon pushed away from the table and Raj was at her side in a flash, politely assisting her from her seat. He followed her to the door behind me, leading to the main corridor. I took a deep breath, sitting back in my seat. Relief from being alone began trickling over me.

“Aye, Wyn.” At that call, I leaped up, spine erect in my chair. I turned to the side to acknowledge him, though I couldn’t exactly see him. “I’m viewing footage of the first leg of the tour tonight to see what changes I’ll make for the second. Be cool to have your input.”

That invitation jarred me. Here I was thinking about which of my favorite porns I’d download and watch while soaking in his gargantuan tub. Now, I was being invited to contribute to his work? That changed everything.

I turned completely around, peering over the side of the wingback chair.

“Sure,” I uttered.

Raj nodded before prompting his grandmother to proceed into the hall. “I’ll be in the media room.”

The room was dark. Pretty much the only light came from the projection screen that was almost half the size of the wall it hung from. Raj took a sip of his Mauve then scribbled something on a writing pad while holding the small glass to his mouth. His eyes held at the screen. It was…cute. He was caught up in what he was doing as I sat next to him with my legs folded underneath me.

“So, you rising in the air is called stage hydraulics?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to do that again? Like with the whole stage?”

He put his glass down and sat up at the edge of the sofa. “I’m thinking to have a few of them this time. Maybe one for the band, one for the background singers, and one for me.”

My head bobbed as the visual for this developed. “Yeah,” I delivered slowly, unfurling my legs to place them off the seat. “That way you can control the attention of the audience.” Then I reached over for his glass and took a sip. Shit… As smooth as it was on my tongue, it burned like hell going down tonight. Damn diet! But I guarded my expression, wouldn’t let him know. “Like if you want to do a wardrobe change like you did after the “DM Unavailable” track, you could raise the other stages and leave the light on them, fade yours, and exit without them missing you right away.”

At first Raj didn’t answer, his eyes were fixed on my mouth as I braved another sip, just smaller than my last. With my regard glued to his for a response, I handed the tumbler back to him.

While gaping at the tumbler, slowly, his head nodded, processing my advice. “Yeah…yeah. I like that.” He went back to his writing pad.

I sat back further into the cushioned sofa and tried catching my breath. I’d quickly developed a relish for Mauve. Only being a wine drinker and occasionally beer, I’d never even heard of that brand of brandy until meeting Ragee. When he sipped it, Raj would hold it in his mouth, sometimes swished it around, before swallowing. A trace of liquid would remain on his bottom lip until he swiped it with his tongue.

Whoa…

My palms gripped the material of the couch as my brain literally whooshed. Then a warm impression coated every limb and extremity. It was the brandy effect. The Mauve had that quickly reached my bloodstream. When I opened and focused my eyes, I saw Raj was peering back at me, the glass in his hand. Then he went back to the screen, and I was grateful because another wave hit. It wasn’t painful, just…embarrassing if he knew what I was feeling. 

Bed. It was time I called it a night, and seeing he didn’t appear to be leaving anytime soon, now was a good time to do it. God forbid, I fall asleep in here, wake up in the middle of the night, and try getting into bed then. He’d probably knock my ass out cold. No. I needed to hit the sack before Ragee.

I shifted my legs from beneath me to sit up. “I’m going to turn in.” Gingerly, I took to my feet.

Before I could right my spine, Raj was standing in front of me—over me. My mouth fell. His eyes bounced between mine and my mouth. His fists curled and uncoiled over and over. He took a deep breath that appeared to be involuntary. Then he stepped closer, our chests hardly a foot from each other. As I peered up at him, his regard kept with that repeated fashion: my eyes then lips. Ragee was big, solid. His muscles, bold and pronounced were even more conspicuous as they flexed in his sleeveless L.I.T. Music t-shirt. His flared nostrils shot a dangerous fusion of Rage for Men and Mauve.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was going to attack me by the tightness in his jaw. But I’d seen him fight, knew he maintained a distance from his opponent to block and throw. No. Raj wanted the distance eliminated, which only meant one thing.

An uncontrolled snort left my nose and my shoulders caved before I could even think.

“You wanna…kiss me?” I felt the V between my brows tighten.

He didn’t speak, but his breathing became audible, the miscellany of scents blown more harshly on my forehead. His chest heaved a little and that’s when my regard fell. Something was so wrong about this scenario. In all the wild thoughts I had of Ragee and me hooking up, none came with this weird vibe. He’d never had this…fence between our chemistry. I could feel desire vibrate from his tight skin as much I could fear. This was some shit.

I gazed back up at his shadowed face. My head nodded once, softly.

“You can kiss me…” I whispered, breathlessly, “…if you want.”

His hand lifted to my face, his thumb brushed tenderly over my bottom lip—so faintly it teased me. I pushed on my toes and raised my chin to prompt him. As he lowered his head, I realized never had I shared the same air as him. I breathed in what he pushed out. Greedily took what he unintentionally shared, which subconsciously infuriated me. Nothing good Ragee McKinnon had ever done for me had been intentional.

And now, when he brought the softest, plump lips with a pungent taste of brandy and honey to my mouth, I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to. It was slow, delicate, explorative—a stark contrast from his inability to ask. Prickles of his beard tickled my skin, but not enough to disrupt the strong stir in my groin, the pounding of my heart. Warm pillows pulled my bottom lip back, paralyzing my jaw, and his fluffy tongue slipped inside my mouth. It wasn’t timid, neither was it aggressive. He was gentle yet expressive. He moved at a pace that had my throat locked tight, holding back a moan shooting from my stomach.

His tongue moved about my mouth, slithering over mine, tasting my damn teeth, teasing my gums. Raj took his time probing every inch of my mouth. And…he breathed for me. I swear, I’d never had anything like it happen to me before in life, but Ragee breathing into me compensated for my inability to do it myself. His tongue licked the roof of my mouth adoringly.

The. Fucking. Universe. Fucking. Back. Flipped.

I couldn’t feel my feet, but I damn sure could feel the slither of his tongue. I could damn sure coordinate my mouth to suck on it feverishly. I could feel when he relaxed his lips to let me. Somehow, I realized he was holding me up, my legs having given out on me. And that’s when I mustered every guard, each ounce of distrust I had, regained my balance, and let go of his tongue.

But Raj didn’t release me. His tongue dragged in my mouth more, goaded mine to continue, and I did. This time with more dignity and skill rather than helpless longing. And we did. We did the oral dance for a spell. Tasting and feeling, an intimate part of our bodies meeting. It was Raj who pulled back first. While it was neat, the end wasn’t expected. He backed away, wiping his mouth, at first, with his lips then hand. At some point, I lost his eyes, but that didn’t sting as much as it used to. My gut told me he’d had enough, and not of my mouth. Raj had had enough of the intimacy that involved my mouth. He’d reached his capacity—one I didn’t know was so great for me.

I took a quick breath, one not as deep as my body needed after going so long without the function. The light from the big screen danced over and around us as we faced each other, but couldn’t somehow look at one another. My feet made the first move backward.

“Ummmm…” I swallowed. “I’ll—goodnight,” I murmured en route to the door.

My movement was casual, but when I hit the main hall of the second floor, my pace turned impatient. This place was huge—colossal, but my feet were on express to the master suite on the other side of the mansion. The moment I was there, coolly, I closed the door behind me. When I could hear the sound of it shut, I collapsed against it.

“Who. The. Fuck. Kisses. Like. That?” I whispered, throat painfully throbbing.

It damn sure wasn’t a man, who preferred men to women.

Fuck that!

“What you and that lil girl be doing?”

My eyes go to the foot of the bed while I lay on my bed. “Huhn?”

She turns to look over her shoulder, away from the television.

“You and that Heather girl from the church. What y’all be doing?”

I shrug.

She swipes her nose as she sniffles back snot. She always rubs her nose. Then she turns her body to the side, getting a better look at me.

“What you…twelve?” I nod. “And how old is she?”

“Eleven.” I go back to beating the air with my drumsticks.

“Shiiiiit,” she swears and chuckles. “That girl’s a damn baby.”

“Not to me,” I challenge.

“What you know about making a woman feel good, Gee-Gee?” Her mouth balls to the side. She don’t believe me.

My shoulders lift again. “Lots of stuff.”

She lifts from the foot of the mattress and before I know it, is squatting next to me.

“Show me.”

My sticks stop. “Huhn?”

One side of her lips curl in a smirk. “Go on. Show me.”

I scoot over toward the middle of the bed just a little.

“Nah.” I try beating the air again, but my mental rhythm’s gone.

“I ain’t gone tell nobody, Gee. I just wanna make sure you know what the fuck you doing. You gone be around here getting girls pregnant if you doing it the wrong way.”

“I be knowing what to do.” I try ignoring her, but don’t want to be rude.

That would be bad. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.

“Boy, if you don’t get yo lanky ass over here and do what I say!” her voice is low, but commanding.

My heart begins to pound. She’s different this time. Everybody says she needs time, but maybe Grandmother letting her stay with me in the basement until a room opens upstairs ain’t cool. But she’s been cool with me. She brings me food downstairs and don’t tell nobody when I sneak on the phone after bedtime. Like tonight.

“If I have to tell you again to get over here and show me how you be kissing that girl, I’mma get a belt and whoop ya big ass good.”

I swallow hard, my arms tremble as I scoot back over to the edge. I know how to kiss girls. I’ve kissed four already. Why do I have to do this?

“Okay. Now sit up straight.”

I do.

“Show me.”

I can’t move. Even though I’m trying, I can’t even push down on my feet to leave out of here. She don’t wait either.

She leans into me, her breath smells like tobacco and that beer she likes to sneak down here. Her lips are soft, though. But it’s gross. None of the girls I’ve kissed smelled like this. I move back to disconnect from her.

She smiles. Her lips spread, showing where the missing teeth were. They weren’t missing before she left this last time, though.

“That’s all you be doing?”

I lie with a nod.

“Little ass, stay lying just like you do when you be telling that lil heffa you gone give her a ring after she let you touch her booty.”

My heart bangs in my chest at that. She’s been listening to us. She’s going to tell Grandmother!

I try to think fast…to say something that’s going to make her keep quiet. When I open my mouth to say something—anything, she moves forward and her tongue’s in my mouth, swirling. I take a deep breath, surprised by her closeness. Her stinking tongue. My head flies back and again, we disconnect. A sharp smack cuts my face.

“Don’t you move!” she screamed this time. “Don’t you fuckin’ move before I tell you. That’s how you gone get one of ‘em pregnant.” I’m out of breath now. I feel lightheaded, but my body is wound so tight, I can’t move again. “Now, let’s do it again. You hold still this time. You hear me?”

I can’t move. Can’t answer.

I don’t have to. She moves in on me again, blinding the lamp light from the nightstand, covering me in darkness.  

“Was it love at first sight?” Pastor McKinnon giggled with such school girl innocence, it made my damn teeth hurt.

Raj’s head shot up from his phone.

I couldn’t help my laughter at the dining room table. “Absolutely not.”

“Pastor, what you talking ‘bout…love at first sight?”

She continued to giggle, this time behind her chubby hand. “I forget. You kids are more into flesh at first sight.”

My amused eyes flew to her grandson. He chuckled scratching his eyebrow.

“Grandmother, I don’t know what Earl put in your sweet tea tonight, but we ain’t having this conversation.”

She laughed, sitting up at the table and going for that very tea. After gulping a few swallows, she murmured, “It’s important, you know?”

Pastor McKinnon’s voice, when she wasn’t preaching or singing her gospel, was so petite and demure, it was almost easy to miss her.

My eyes roved up from my fingers as I was pushing back my cuticles to kill time. We’d just finished dinner.

“What’s that?” Raj asked.

Her lashes batted under those “barely there” brows. “Lying together.” Her chin dipped and eyes widened for emphasis. “As man and wife. It’s needed in a marriage. Even I know about the perils of marriage. If there’s one thing needed to keep that connection, it’s…” She lowered her chin again. “…lying together. Problem is, men are led by their groins. And we women… Well, we’re controlled by our hearts and understanding of the need to nurture and be nurtured. When we feel neglected or our emotional needs are not being met, we shut down.” Her eyes flashed at her grandson. “When there is no heart flow, there’s no…womanly flow.”

“Grandmother!” he shouted.

Pastor McKinnon giggled in response, not the least bit slighted by his warning. This woman was strange, but benevolent. She may miss the mark often, but I was convinced her motives were pure. I didn’t know how a non-married person—pastor or not—could provide marital advice, but I didn’t balk. Hell, I wasn’t really married anyway. At least not in the commitment sense.

“Well, with that being said, let’s forego praise and worship tonight and give you two some time to…” She cleared her throat and giggled shyly. “…lie.”

Before either Raj or I could respond, she pushed her chair back from the table and stood. Raj, being the attentive and respectful grandson I’d been observing, stood along with her while tossing me concerned eyes. Absent was the millionaire entertainer, sought after by countless people. Here was a young boy, endeavoring to honor his grandmother.

I took to my feet, too. It was still early, hardly eight o’clock. What the fuck was I going to do until the morning?

“So,” I snuggled onto my side, pushing my arms underneath the pillow as I faced him, “who entertains the entertainer?”

“Huhn?” Raj halfway rolled his head over to me with hiked brows.

“It’s always evident how popular the entertainer is. Just look at the numbers. But most don’t know who impresses the entertainer when they want recreation. Who do you listen to?”

“Ah, man,” he breathed, finally processing the question. “Like music-wise?” I nodded and hummed my answer. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “Umm… I like anything raw: vocals, instruments, dance—anything natural creatively. Lately, I’ve been stanning over Ameerah. Think she’s dope. Chick’s changing the game with string instruments.”

“How does your bestie feel about you stanning over his ex-lover?” I teased.

“Who?” His face wrinkled. “Young?”

I hummed in agreement again and Raj laughed.

“I don’t know why chicks get so hung up on sex. That’s all that was. Trust me, he ain’t trippin’. He know she’s dope, too.”

“That’s because y’all wasn’t paying attention to her Diane Sawyer interview when she cried about her regrets on love. Men don’t hear or see tears when they fall from a woman. They only feel them when we make them feel it.”

“So Young should have felt her pain because she had a broken heart?”

“No.” My head joggled slightly against the pillow. “From what I could tell, her heart should have never been involved in the first place. Clearly, his wasn’t. I’m just saying it got ugly there for a minute after that fellatio tape got out. I know things had to get thick around that time. People said she was the one to leak the tape.” I shrugged with my lips. “It was her phone it was recorded on. He never spoke about it publicly, but I didn’t hear of him touching her again after that. Didn’t see them being friends after that.”

“He’s her boss. He’s got to work with her. Plus, that’s all conjecture. A lot of details were netted. The public never gets it all, but always got a damn opinion.”

“Did I pluck a nerve?” I couldn’t help my smile.

“Not at all.” Raj shrugged, rubbing his nose absentmindedly. “Young can handle his own. Either way, if he’s good, I’m happy. Who’s your favorite?”

“Favorite what?” I noticed he changed the subject quickly.

“Artist.” He chuckled. “And I ain’t fishing for a mention. You’ve made it quite clear you ain’t a ‘Ragee fan’,” he emphasized with a whiney voice, I guessed to mock me.

“Whew…” I exhaled as I considered that. “Dale is cool. “Licker” was a good track. He’s working his way to legend status now that he’s popping again. Hmmmm… I like Trey.” A smile blossomed on my face. “He’s a slick talker, that one. Nasty.”

His head rolled to peer into me. “That’s what you like?”

“Sometimes.”

“And other times?”

“I like hip hop. Love songs.”

“And you don’t like Ragee?” He mock-gasped.

“I do like your music. I guess I never stopped to pay attention to your body of work. Since we’ve been…” I hesitated, “knowing each other, I realize I’ve liked a lot of your stuff.  I just didn’t know it was you.”

“So, you’re gonna act like you ain’t know me? Get the—”

Laughter burst from my lungs. “No! I’m not saying that at all. I’ve been busy. I don’t go to concerts, watch videos, or buy music. I listen to radio, though.”

“But you know Trey’s music?” his tone was doubtful as he chuckled quietly. “You mean to tell me sex appeals to you more than love does?”

“Where did that come from?”

“You just said you like Trey ‘cause he’s a slick talker. You’re talking about sex. That’s mostly what his catalogue is about. Dale’s “Licker” is about getting head. That’s sex. My music is about love and good vibes, I guess. And you can’t even put my name to the tracks you rock out to in ya car when they’re in radio rotation.”

I took a moment to consider that.

“Oh, you get quiet on that, huhn?”

“No. Just thinking your point over. I don’t consider myself sex-crazed. Can’t be, at least not anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t remember the last time I’ve had some.”

Raj snickered. “I hope you can’t. We’ve been married for a minute now.”

“No. Well before then, too. Your lil kiss was the most action I’ve gotten in like… Forever.”

That revelation shocked the hell out of me as my eyes roved over to Raj. He was frowning.

“What was little about my kiss?”

My face opened in horror. “No,” I breathed. My hand went to his hard chest as I sat up, using my left. “Not like that.” Raj’s eyes fell to where we connected. I swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean that at all.” For a while, he didn’t respond. I was waiting for a smile or laugh to make fun of my seriousness. “Are you fucking with me?”

Then, something in the corner of my right eye caught my attention. There was a tent in his sweats. A thick, conspicuous log against his crossed thigh. My belly dropped like a freefall. Before I could think of a reaction, my head was tugged down to his face by two big warm hands. At first, his lips brushed gently over mine. I was the first to part my mouth. His warm, slivery tongue was ready and my groin wound deliciously. He swiped my mouth then pulled back to bite my lip on a pull. I almost cried, it was so teasing, felt so good. His tongue dipped inside my mouth. I was ready for him, tasted him, and explored his flavor.

My nipples stung in tantalizing pleasure, clitoris throbbed an ache. His breathing deepened underneath me as my hands roved over his bubbled chest and rolling abs. He felt hard and smelled all male. His hands gripped my scalp, holding me to him. The bed of my panties felt weighted in no time. His tongue toured me, this time with unmitigated desire instead of curious exploration. I didn’t want this moment to be a fleeting one like the last time we kissed. It had been too long for me, and there was no way I could continue to ignore how unapologetically virile this man was. He wanted me. I knew it. This time, I wanted more.

Slowly, my tongue unlaced around his. My right hand headed south down his hard torso.

My heavy lids parted, and once I was able to focus on his face, I whispered, “I wanna to see you.”

My fingertips met the elastic of his low rested band and pressed into his pelvis to push through. The feel of his pubes had air gushing from my lungs like a novice. This was different. This was Ragee, my sworn enemy for the past four months. I was entering his personal space, here, for real. The root of him was thick, strained. My ravenous hands smoothed up his shaft, impressed by the girth against my palm, the pulsing veins running the course of him. But when I was ready to meet the helm of his hardness, my ribald probing was met with an unexpected discovery.

Metal.

A piercing. My fingers rolled around the head of his swollen dick and uncloaked a vertical bar with balls at both ends. My eyes widened above him, lips parted. But Raj’s expression held placid. His lids were heavy and breathing disturbed, but he didn’t speak or react.

He’d fucked up.

I wanted him now more than ever. My hand withdrew from his sweats and I swung my leg over to straddle him as my head dipped for his mouth. Raj’s hands didn’t return to my head, but his tongue did receive me. And I slowly sank down on him, in search of his dick, standing at attention. Only, after fully descending and resting the back of my thighs against his, I didn’t feel anything.

My eyes fluttered open and the muscles in my face tightened. Raj’s eyes closed as though he was in pain. That caused me to immediately relieve him of my weight. I reversed my thigh over him like a stretching maneuver, and sat on my knees as I peered down onto him. Did I do something wrong? Was I too aggressive? Ragee had made it clear from the jump he wasn’t exactly fond of me. I took things too far. I had to. Why else would his cock go flaccid with me over him and stuffing my damn tongue down his throat?

Slowly, his eyes opened strained. He took a deep breath and then rose to leave the bed. He didn’t go to the bathroom, didn’t head into the sitting room. Raj left the master suite. 

The whole room reeks of burning plastic and beer. She’s right next to me, rolling on the bed, dancing and singing. She ain’t supposed to be on my bed. I want to get on the floor, but don’t want to be rude. She’s acting crazy. Again.

“She playing hard to get…” she sings, more like wails.

It’s late and I have to do my homework in the morning because I didn’t feel like it after school. But I can’t go to sleep when she’s shaking the bed like this.

“You know them girls who do that, Gee-Gee?”

“Do what?” I ask with my back to her.

“Play hard to get. They say they don’t wanna be bothered, knowing damn well they wanna put they hands down your pants.” She laughs. “Don’t let them fool you. Girls be wanting to do nasty stuff, too. Yup. We do. We just been taught by stiffy church people we ain’t supposed to like it like y’all guys do.”

I’m hardly listening. She talks too fast and too much. It’s late.

“I remember the first time I put my hands down a boy’s pants. His shit was short and rubbery!” she busts out laughing, almost not finishing the sentence.

That makes me think of Heather and what she thought the first time she felt me. It was through my pants, but I hope she ain’t laugh at me.

“You do that, Gee-Gee?” her stinking breath at the side of my face had my body go stiff all over.

“Huhn?” I try to play it cool.

Then I feel her cold hand. “You play hard to get with the girls?”

She’s at my waist and I want to elbow her in the chin, but I can’t do that. She’s family. My mom wouldn’t like that. Grandmother wouldn’t either.

“No. I—I ummm… Don’t play with girls like that.”

“Big lying ass!” She laughs in my ear. “I wanna see what you be showing them girls. I know you do. I see how they be looking at you when you singing. Especially that Heather heifer.”

Her hand is cold and nails are sharp. They dig into my skin, trying to go underneath my sweatpants and boxers. With my arm, I squeeze the bone next to my stomach, hurting myself to keep her from my privates.

“Yo, man!” I scream, the most brolic I’ve ever been with her, but she was going too far. Again. “Don’t do that!”

It’s too late. She got her hands in my pants, her nails scraping against my hairs.

No!

“Lemme see how big is you, boy. I wanna see you…”

I jumped up from the couch, out of breath. Looking around in the dark, it took a minute for me to realize I fell asleep. The living room. There was a chill to the room. My chest heaved and sweat clung to my clothes. I rubbed my wet face with shaking hands.

Shiiiiit!

It was official. They were coming back. I hadn’t had the dreams in years. Years! After going through therapy, I had a breakthrough from being haunted by them. Now they were back.

And I couldn’t even call the one person I knew could help.

Ezra…

“All in all, Live Nation’s now comfortable with the ticket transfers. They’re actually exceptionally pleased at how the new dates leave an overwhelming demand for a few more shows tacked on the end.”  

“Word?” I frowned, looking at my lawyer, Edward Chesney, on the projection screen across from my desk.

As he nodded his confirmation, Mike, from the speaker phone, piped out, “Hell, yeah! Fuck you think this is?” He laughed. “We talking ‘bout fuckin’ Ragee, my nigga!”

The reception on my end for him wasn’t that great. But then again, Mike was somewhere overseas, only God knew where.

Chesney rolled his eyes at Mike’s boasting. I was glad Mike was just audio and couldn’t see it. It was something Chesney would do in his face and the meeting would turn into a bickering match where he would remind Mike that just because he was white and could string together a sentence didn’t mean he didn’t have killers on contracts, too. Once in a while, it was funny; at a time like this, I didn’t have the time. Pushing back the UK tour never set well with me. It was Mike’s idea. People had already bought their tickets. Most venues were sold out. It was another thing that had been stressing me the hell out lately. This could have been ugly. I was empathetic if I was anything to my fans.

Fingering his blond strands, Chesney blew out a breath. “Now that we know we’re still in good standing with them, I can tell Amy over there you’re considering adding the additional dates.”

“They gotta be tacked on the end of the tour?” Mike asked. “They can’t be sprinkled in?”

“That call is up to the talent,” Chesney answered, using those damn inflections.

“Whatchu you think, ock?” Mike asked.

I filled my lungs with air, brushing my hands down my face. I was tired, sleepy as hell considering I hadn’t been “working,” thanks to this fake marriage thing. How can having a fake new wife tire you out like this?

“I ‘on’t know, man,” I breathed, seeing Leech step into the office with his tablet. He stretched out on the couch across the room. “Let’s table that for when you get back in town.”

“A’ight.” Mike asked Chesney, “That it?”

“Yes.” Chesney lifted his brows then thumbed through papers on his desk. “Oh, one last thing. I’ve asked one of my junior associates to take on the Donovan Williams case. He should be flying in…” He checked the time on his wrist. “Oh! He should have arrived already. He’ll be meeting Mr. Williams tomorrow.”

“How much?” I asked.

“Pro bono.”

My forehead stretched. “Huhn?”

Nothing happened for free. Chesney himself was a big shark. He ate well off my business. I didn’t know he’d put one of his people on this when I asked. I only inquired about quality legal services.

“He…” Chesney’s lips and eyes turned up as he thought. Then his eyes were back on me. “He fucked up majorly last week. In lieu of firing his ass, your need came at an opportune time. You can thank him for the stellar representation of your…” He growled, “Well, whatever you want to refer to Mr. Williams as.”

My eyes shot over to Leech. He didn’t know about my arrangement with Wynter. Thankfully, he seemed engaged in whatever was on his device. Chesney wasn’t with the fake marriage ruse either, and wouldn’t stop reminding me.

“I appreciate that. And I’ll give her the heads up.”

“Hold the fuck up!” Mike barked into the phone. “Y’all talkin ‘bout Van, Wynter’s people?”

“Yeah.” My expression addressed his audacity.

“I told her I was gonna handle it. Why the fuck you in this?”

“Because she told me about the shitty lawyer you put on it.”

“Shitty?” Mike yelled. “How you figure he shitty?”

I sat up in my office chair, too tired to do this. “C’mon, man. You know that Marcus Greene dude ain’t getting shit done. The kid been locked up since September. It’s the end of January. He don’t even have a trial date yet, ‘cause your Greene—”

“I told you I was fuckin’ handlin’ it!” boomed through the speaker so loud, Chesney’s head flew back on the monitor and Leech turned to face me at my desk. I waved my hand for him to leave. “That ain’t ya lane. She ain’t ya problem! I know what the fuck I’m doin here, man. Don’t be comin’ behind me like I’m not on my B.I., my nigga!”

I swung my neck to the side of the room, cooling myself before I responded. I let Mike get away with a lot. Sometimes too much because I thought I understood him as a man. He was aggressive, took pride in what he did, and was generous at heart. But when he went so far as to diminish my role as gatekeeper of my destiny, I had to check him.

“Mike,” I started, pacing myself. “I personally don’t give a shit about a Donovan Williams or the deal you made with his people about him, but when you bring bullshit to my doorstep that can fuck up my brand, I’m gonna step in and salvage what I can. And it’s fucked up how you sent her to Speed’s dusted ass in the Bronx, knowing damn well, ain’t shit he could do for her, but get her lifted on some fuckin’ loud.”

“Like I said, I was on top of it!” he shouted again.

“Let me off the ride here, fellows,” Chesney intervened, ready to end the call.

I nodded to dismiss him before tapping to end the chat. Mike kept going.

“Look! I spoke to Greene about Van. He told me he spoke to the prosecutor this week and was working on getting the evidence from the prosecutor. It’s called fuckin’ criminal discovery!”  

“He’s just doing that in the last week of January? You see how fucked up that is? And you got her sitting here looking dumb as hell, playing her part while you ain’t holding up your end of the fuckin’ bargain.”

The line went quiet for a while. “Raj,” he came back a lot calmer. “…this is what I do. I’m Mister Make Shit Happen. I can’t give her what she need so early in the game. This a three year deal. Giving her the deliverables three months into it ain’t gone do nothing but give her time to come up with more fuckin’ demands we ain’t agree to when we cut the deal.”

“So, what the fuck is she getting out of this?” I yelled so hard the echoes of my voice bounced off the wall.

Why was she here, talking to my grandmother every night, not making an issue of her spiritual ways I knew had to be weird and comical for her? Why didn’t she freak out after meeting my fifty-one-year-old brother, who had the mental capacity of an eleven year old? Why hasn’t she made a big deal about me freaking out when she woke me out of my sleep in my bed? Why hasn’t her smart ass cracked one joke about me going soft on her after being so hard my dick hurt, ‘cause I wanted her so damn bad? How was she being compensated for being around my fucked-upness and not making it public?

“Listen, Raj,” Mike tried, his voice the softest it had been the whole call. “I know what I’m doing, man. I swear I do. I always do. Real talk. And you know I do!” he warned, growling. “Just let me do me, and you focus on the next album. Super Bowl’s in a few days, my G. You go and have a good time without me. Do it big for me, a’ight?” I heard the phony humor in his voice. “It’s gonna be litty. But look, I gotta go. I’ll be back that way in a couple of weeks. My time out here just got extended ‘cause of some bullshit. I’ll check in with y’all.”

I disconnected the call and fell back into my seat. My spine jerked to sit up again, and hand went for my cell this time. This was getting out of control. I needed to call my guy. He’d sent texts and called twice since I spoke to him the morning after the wedding. But I hadn’t been man enough to reach back out.

“Ahhhhhhh!” I screamed, throwing myself back into my chair.

Once again, I’d taken the coward’s way out.