“Mi caah manage—”
“Yes yuh can. You beg fi dis, memba?” He strokes deep, heavy, right up to my soul. I moan hard, legs shaking against his shoulders. Then I lose it. Liquid gush out of me, slicking down my thighs, splashing the tiles beneath us. I cross my ankles in pleasure.
“Open back yuh leg,” he growls, eyes wild. My legs tremble. My chest heave. He chokes me, just a squeeze, enough to pin my head to the wall.
“Look pan me,” he orders. My eyes flutter open, dazed.
“Talk to me.”
“I… I feel it inna mi belly…”
He laughs. Not soft… dark and cocky.
“Good. Mi want yuh feel it every time yuh walk. Every time yuh smile. Every man yuh pass, yuh guh memba seh a me sign my name inna yuh walls.”
NICKOI
I’m just getting home. After our morning runnings, shower, breakfast, feeding the babies, I touch the road to handle a few errands in town. When I walk in, the twins are in their nursery, babbling over toys. Zara’s knocked out on the bed, belly down, one leg tucked, one hanging. I stand at the door for a second and just take her in. She a sleep like a baby.
You did that,my subconscious grins.
I did.
I told her straight, I don’t want to see my mother right now. Not today. So I called Gavin to come watch the kids. He’s on his way with his sister. Right on cue, the door knocks. I throw on something quick. Simple. Still look sharp. By the time I reach downstairs and open the door, they’re here. Pizza in one hand, KFC in the next. I swing the door wide.
“Unuh fawud,” I say, and they step inside after greeting me.
“Soon bring down the babies. Mi just a go get ready,” I tell them.
Sash eyes me up and smirks. “So yuh nuh dress yet and yuh look dressed?” Gavin taps her head. I head back upstairs.
“Weh Zara?” he asks behind me.
“She a sleep. But mi a go wake her now.”
“Zara a sleep at this hour?” he mutters. I push open the door. She stirs. Rubbing her eyes.
“Yuh wake?” I smile.
She chucks a pillow at me. “You a give him idea,” she whines playfully. I laugh and start changing, crisp white Louis Vuitton two-piece button-down set, clean. Nike Dunks blue and white to match her. Shoes on the floor, waiting. Zara starts undressing. My eyes don’t leave her. Firm body. Soft hips. All woman. As she passes, I reach out and slap her ass.
“Chro,” she hisses.
“You cool off?” I raise a brow. She just closes the door behind her.
When she steps back out, I take a breath. Then she gets dressed. Blue two-piece. High-waisted shorts hugging her. White Bridgets on her feet. Blue scarf tied over her braids. Light makeup. A soft glow like she wake up moisturized by God himself. In one hand? A Stanley cup, full of whatever she’s having today.
“You look good, Mami,” I say, smacking her ass again. The babies laugh when I scoop them up, and we head downstairs, Zara strutting in front of me.
“No sah, then how Zara nice so?” Gavin says, staring. “A crime she a commit. She too bad.”
“The dolly bad fi choo,” Sash grins. Zara just flashes them a smile and keeps moving. I lay out the kids’ toys and snacks, then turn to Gavin.
“Take care of them,” I tell him, not Sash.
She play too much.
“Ready?” Zara asks, keys already in my hand. I nod and grab the remote. In the garage, the white drop-top Range Rover sits untouched. Today feel like the day to drive it. Zara’s still insidetexting, asking if I’m ready. Late bug. She always move slow when a tome fi move. My phone buzzes.
