“I love you, Lo.”
“I love you, DaVinci.”
We went right back in—sloppy, hungry, like we’d been waiting too long. She yanked my shorts down and freed me; my dick hit her wet folds. The smack echoed in our garage and I damn near lost my mind. She was soaked.
“You gotta have the wettest pussy this side of the Mississippi, baby,” I muttered, teasing her opening. She rocked her hips, soft and slow, teasing both of us. My baby stayed wet like a puddle.
“Only you can do this,” she breathed. “Let’s be clear.”
I slid inside her favorite place on earth and moved her up and down on my dick while she moaned, playing with her nipples.
“You know I love it when you get on that freak shit,” I said. “Take this off.”
She slipped the cheetah-print nightie over her head, and I leaned in to suck her nipples. She held my neck, feeding herself to me.
“Ouu, baby,” she sang. I slowed down, pressed our bodies closer. The slow stroke got her every time. Her legs tightened around me, our lips locked, and we fucked each other until she was screaming and I was grunting and releasing deep into her.
“Gahdamn girl.”
She kissed me again, slid down off my waist, fixed her nightie, and gave me that look that always made me want to call every game off and stay home with her. But we had somewhere to be, and time was moving faster than either of us realized.
We headed upstairs, and she disappeared into the bathroom to shower. I followed in behind her, and we showered together. We tried to keep our hands off each other, but somehow my head ended up between her legs. It was just like that sometimes; I was addicted.
We made it, and out she headed towards the closet to get dressed, humming Sweet Thing, under her breath.
“I gotta go bae. I’ll see you later at the game. Langston is taking me, because I’m sure you wanna drive your new car tonight.” I said, entering the closet and wrapping my arms around her waist.
“You know me so well. I’ll see you later, baby.” She turned around and cuffed my cheeks while looking in my eyes. “You’ve had a helluva career, a helluva impact, and tonight, may be the last game you play on your home court, but it won’t be the last time your heart and impact are felt. Accept your flowers tonight. You deserve them.”
If I was a crying ass nigga that would’ve had me in tears. I pecked her lips, neck, and forehead while she giggled.
“Thank you, my love. You're definitely not beating the cupcake allegations now. I’m telling everybody too.”
“I’m fine with that. But it's only for you. I’ll see you later, baby. Go.”
“Okay, I’m out.”
When I made it inside the car, I sat quietly, giving myself a second to settle my nerves. Tonight was everything, the announcement, the reunion, the whole damn turning point. And her speaking over me hit deeper than I expected. Put more weight on the night than I imagined, but I welcomed it.
A few hours later…
“My man, my man, my man, baby, dickin’ me down drivin’ me crazy,”I rapped right along with my girl Megan thee Stallion. I understood my sis. I felt her. And honestly? I meant every single lyric. I was giggling so hard my lip gloss kept sticking to my teeth.
I felt more like myself than I had in weeks. Rest will do that for you, but being loved right will do it faster. I was behind the wheel of my new Hummer, easing up to the light in front of the arena with my music turned up and heart full to the brim. I wasn’t rushing anywhere. I wasn’t running on fumes. I wasn’t fighting sleep or burnout or whatever lie I told myself to keep going. I was just… here. Present. Breathing. And honestly, damn near giddy.
It was dumb how happy the truck made me.
No, actually—he made me happy.
The truck was just the bonus.
I saw a lot of things for my life, but dating DaVinci Bryns wasn’t one of them. Having a man like him to love me was also not one of them, but by the goodness of God, I was. I had a man who overly loved me in the best damnway. God had done his big one, and it reminded me of DaVinci joking about me being God's favorite. I was believing that more than ever now.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror and shook my head, because I really looked good as hell tonight. My dress was a full sequin replica of DaVinci’s jersey, cut into a classy silhouette that hugged me exactly the way I liked without doing too much. Black, white, and gold. Black open-toe thigh-high boots that hit mid-thigh and the heel gave me that extra inch of attitude. The diamonds glittering on my neck and wrist caught every streetlight I rolled under. My curls were barrel-set, brushed out just enough to look intentional without being stiff.
I looked like somebody who was loved right. You could see it in my skin, in my smile, in the little softness that kept sneaking out when he got his way. But I loved giving him his way. He could have it all. I had indeed become a cupcake for him, but he deserved it.
My hospital scare still sat somewhere deep inside me, but I wasn’t letting it swallow me up tonight. I’d scared myself. Scared him. Scared my friends. It slowed me down long enough to hear my body for once, and letting myself rest without guilt was so foreign that it made me cry on the first day. But I listened, and I felt better. Stronger. Clearer. And it showed.
