Kaylon shifted in his sleep, his little lips parting like he was dreaming something sweet. I leaned over the bassinet and fixed his blanket. The room was warm, dim and peaceful for a good ten minutes.
Then I felt that stare…
Pressure walked in like he owned the floor, the walls and the air I was breathing. He had on some black sweatpants hanging low on his hips and not a damn shirt in sight, just tattoos and muscles and that “I want somethin’” energy all over his face. He was looking at me like he was annoyed and horny at the same time, and that combination did something to me I didn’t wanna admit.
He closed the door slow, his eyes never leaving my legs.
“So…” he said, dragging the word like it had attitude. “I’m still on punishment?”
I twisted my mouth. “You’re not on punishment, Pressure.”
“Mm.” He walked closer, leaning against the dresser while his eyes followed my hand moving the oil up my other thigh. “So I can hit then?”
I blinked at him. “No.”
He scoffed like I told him the sky was purple. “Pluto, stop playin’. My dick hurt. I feel like I’m gon’ die.”
“You’re dramatic,” I said, laughing while I closed the bottle. “You don’t wanna pull out, and I’m not having another pregnancy scare. Kaylon is three months old. My insides haven’t even recovered from your big-headed child yet.”
He put a hand on his chest. “Big-headed child? He yours too.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Which is why I’m not gon’ have another one right now.”
Pressure rubbed his face, groaning. “Baby, come on. Why we arguin’ about this again? Just let me in it.”
“Then pull out.”
“No.”
“Pressure.”
“No.” He lifted his chin like a five-year-old. “I don’t do that.”
I pushed my hair behind my ear, feeling my patience get thin. “I’ll get on birth control then.”
His entire face twisted. “Hell no.”
“See?” I said, throwing my hands up. “You don’t want condoms. You don’t want birth control. You don’t want to pull out. So what you want me to do? Magically not get pregnant?”
He walked closer until his knee hit the mattress and his voice dropped. “I don’t trust that birth control shit. What if it make you sick or fuck up somethin’? I want more babies with you, but I want you healthy too.”
I stared at him because it was sweet… and ignorant at the same time.
“Pressure, I’m not having another baby back-to-back,” I said. “My body is tired.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand sliding up my oiled leg like he didn’t care about anything else. “Okay… so can I at least eat it?”
I paused.
He blinked at me, looking desperate and horny and completely unserious. “I ain’t even gotta fuck. Just let me taste my pussy, please.”
I covered my face because the way he said that had my stomach flippin’. “Pressure…”
“Baby, come on,” he whispered, kissing up my thigh. “I’m tryna compromise. I’m bein’ mature right now.”
I laughed. “You call this mature?”
“Yes.” He kissed higher. “This is maturity, Pluto. I’m growin’ as a man.”
