Chapter Twelve
Game Night Confessions
Marquise
If this bitch touches me one more time, I’ll snap.
“Dance with me,” Whitney said, pulling me onto the dance floor.
Reaching the middle of the floor, she immediately grinds her ass against my soft dick. She rolled her body, but I wasn’t moving. Pops twirled Mom around before we caught each other’s attention, and his brows dipped in confusion.
I knew this wasn’t right, but Erin’s rejection in the bathroom crushed me. Over the past few weeks, I've changed everything about myself. I was back in therapy, blocking every woman calling my phone, turning down top-tier pussy, and for what? All I wanted to do was show the world who owned my heart. Erin’s too busy worrying about what people would think. When we met, I was a ladies’ man, and I never hid who I was.
“Marquise, dance with me,” Whitney whined, with big hope-filled eyes.
She extended her hands toward my neck, but I pulled them down. I preferred that she didn’t touch me at all. Scanning the party in search of Erin, I found Malcolm instead. Following hiseyes, I scooped Erin in conversation with some dude in the corner. It appeared they had exchanged phone numbers, and I was heated.
“Marquise,” Whitney whined, reaching for my hand.
I freed myself to remind Erin’s ass that she belonged to me. Right now, I was in the wrong, but I didn’t give a fuck. Pushing through the crowd, Malcolm met me, blocking my path.
“Quise, calm down. You started this back at the apartment,” he said.
I hated when he held me accountable. With us sharing features, it’s as if the mirror was speaking back to me.
“I understand, and you’re right, but get out of my way. Erin ismywoman,” I said.
Malcolm smirked before he moved aside but followed me. I approached Erin, stepping in between her and whoever this was.
“Marquise!” Erin yelled with hiked nostrils and wild eyes. “I’m talking…” she said.
I jolted my head backward. “I personally don’t give a fuck, if you want me to be honest,” I stated.
She attempted to walk away, but I gripped her elbow, stopping her departure. My shoulder jerked backward, seizing my attention. I turned to find a man several inches shorter standing toe-to-toe with me.
“I believe the lady doesn’t want to leave with you,” he said.
I chuckled. “How would you know what my woman wants?” I asked.
Erin pulled on my arm for my attention, but I didn’t honor her request. She moved next to me, tugging on my shirt.
“You are overreacting. It isn’t what it seems, and not that you had the right anyway. Didn’t you just leave the dance floor?” Erin questioned.
I peered down at her, trying to cap my temper.
“Erin, are you okay?” the guy spoke around me.
He asked for attention, leaving me no other option but to address him again.
“Walk away before I knock you out,” I warned. “I gave you two passes already, talking to my woman and touching me,” I said.
“You didn’t give me shit,” he said, and I released my grip on Erin
“Barry, don’t escalate this. Please walk away,” Erin said at the point of pleading, adding more fire to my burning anger.
“I knew you were a pussy with the name Barry,” I said.
“Marquise, please, baby, it’s not what it seems,” I heard Erin pleading with me.
