“Emery, pleeease. I can’t?—”
“Shhh.” He captured my lips again as I came once again.
How could one do that?
There was something about kissing when cumming that made sex more intense. My legs and body shook violently as he growled in my ear, and I felt his body quake as well. I held on to him tightly as we both breathed heavily until we settled.
This was the second time he’d cum inside of me for two days straight. I had to stop this with him, or I knew for sure he was going to impregnate me, which I had a feeling was his primary goal.
After we settled, he pulled me up, picked me up, and then carried me out of the room. I was freaking spent. Three orgasms back-to-back had taken a toll on me, and I felt myself getting sleepy. It felt like an eternity before we made it to Emery’s room. Once we made it inside the huge ass room, he carried me into the attached bathroom that could probably fit a small damn zoo. He turned on the shower and set me on the bench. He tapped the smart screen above my head, and music began to play.
Jhene Aiko “While We’re Young” serenaded us at a low volume. The four showerheads sprayed down on us, and he grabbed my loofah and Caress almond body wash and began at my feet, up my legs, until he covered my body with suds. He then dropped the loofah and grabbed the washcloth using the Dove soap bar to wash behind my ears and neck. He dropped to his haunches before he commanded, “Open.” My legs opened, and he washed my private areas.
Once that was complete, he rinsed me, then began washing himself as I watched him in awe. The man was blessed with his looks, his body, and that big dick lying low, touching his inner thigh. I couldn’t believe I was in this space with him after all these years. Now, I was feeling conflicted because while my old love was doing everything in his power to get me back, and my new love seemed to be doing everything to push me away. I loved Liam, but his actions were flummoxing, and I had no clue what we were doing. One hundred thirty-six hours ago, I wanted a life with Liam. We talked about marriage and having children, the works.
Now, as I looked at this God of man rinsing the suds from his tatted-up, muscular, tall body, I didn’t know about that. Nonetheless, I wouldn’t just jump back in with Emery like he wanted me to. He was still in the streets, and I was still on the opposite side of the law. Although he told me he would be done within a month, I still had to be cautious.
“Get out of your head, Yummy. No matter the circumstance, we gon’ make this shit work. I’m not coming up off you, so dead that thought, mamas. You should have stayed away from me.” He smirked, leaned down, and kissed my lips. “Come on. You need your rest. Gotta get my brother and cousin off them pigs’ radar.” He pecked my lips again, turned off the water, and helped me out of the shower.
We dried and climbed into bed naked while he cuddled up behind me. The familiarity of his arms that were now bigger and stronger lulled me to a peaceful sleep.
Chapter
Eight
EMERY
Isat next to my parents, Uncle Nick, and Aunt Serenity in the back row of the courtroom while Yumi and AUSA George Smith gave their opening arguments. My baby was good. She was making Mill and Mook look like fucking angels when they had been damn heathens all of their lives. I smiled as I watched her in her element, making the prosecutors look foolish. That smile stayed on my face until her nigga, parents, and cousins crept into the courtroom.
Mr. Clark’s and my eyes met, and I could see his lips turn up slightly as I smirked at him.
My, how shit had changed.
I was once his golden ticket to The Chocolate Factory; now I was someone he frowned upon because I knew his dirty little secrets. I didn’t give a fuck, though. My only focus was getting his daughter to marry me and have my babies.
It was the end of the closing arguments, and they called their first witness to the stand.
Leyla Johnson.
The broad who was recording the video. It was sad that she didn’t know or understand the rules of being a snitch. I was pretty sure she was still out here moving freely as if she were untouchable.
“Who is that?” my father whispered to me.
“The chick at the bar that recorded the video. I saw it, and it doesn’t reveal shit.” He nodded, and our focus went back to the chick raising her right hand, taking the oath.
George approached the stand while I waited to hear what this broad had to say.
“How are you today, Ms. Johnson?”
“Pretty good.”
“That’s good. Ms. Johnson, can you tell me what happened on the night of April fifteenth?”
“I went to the bar with some friends for some drinks.”
“And what was the name of that bar?”
“Park Avenue on the Boulevard.”
