She turned sideways and rested her head on DJ’s pillow while feather stroking his forehead.
“You’re the coolest. You know that?”
“You’re the coolest,” he replied. “And we don’t need dad.”
Her chest felt vacant. Somewhere over this past year, she had sent the wrong message. She hadn’t validated DJ enough. She hadn’t supported him enough. She had been in therapy, butshe hadn’t made one appointment for him. It was clear that the divorce was taking a toll on him.
“We always need family, and Daddy will always be that.”
“You don’t have to pretend, Ma. I’m not a baby,” DJ said.
“I know you’re not, bud,” Lauren whispered, sighing. “Everything is going to be okay. You’ll see.”
Lauren sat in front of the fireplace, wine glass daintily propped in her hands, and she swirled the red Bordeaux to emote the notes before sipping. Rather, gulping because she cleared half the glass before lowering it back to rest on top of her knee. Shit was just stressful. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. The conversation with DJ lingered in her subconscious, pulling at her gut, and she needed to talk to someone about it. When the doorbell rang, she almost regretted making the call. Surely, there was anyone else to confide in. Certainly, Demi was the most logical choice, but she felt like DJ these days. Demi had his hands full, and his focus pulled. With his hands full, she knew DJ hadn’t expressed this same disdain to his father. She wondered if this was what life would become. Parenting alone and then crying silently about the heartbreaks her son wasn’t brave enough to share with Demi.
She made her way to the door, and the nigga who stood on the other side of it gave her chills. She should have been taking her ass to sleep. She had a huge event to oversee tomorrow, but instead she was playing a dangerous game in the midnight hour with this beautiful man.
“You came,” she said, surprised.
“You called,” he shot back.
“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have done that. The first of many regrets I’ll have by morning.”
“No regrets, Lo,” Nyair said. “I ain’t never left a woman with none of that, just memories.”
“What if maybe, just maybe, this time you don’t become a memory?” She asked. “What if you stay?”
“You make it real hard for me, Lo,” Nyair said. He was standing on her porch, feet at the tip of the threshold like he was debating on coming inside, like he couldn’t come inside without permission. Lauren recalled the vampire movies she would watch with DJ, and she reached for his tie.
“You’re welcome to come in, Ny,” she said.
Holy shit. Scratch that. The unholiest shit ever was about to take place, and Lauren felt the anticipation surging through her veins.
“Your son is here?” He asked.
“He’s asleep.”
“You can’t call me over here when he’s here, Lo,” Nyair said as he stood in front of her, forcing her back to the wall. He stared down at her with so much wanting that she couldn’t match his stare. His left hand cuffed her cheek, and then somehow, it was around her neck. His other hand lifted her right arm, trapping it against the wall. His lips were close enough to taste the mint on his breath, but the slightest distance kept them from kissing.
“Why?” She didn’t know if the question was in her head or if it lived in the air. She was lightheaded and so turned on that she squirmed under his touch.
“Because I can’t control how you’ll react to the pleasure I’m trying to bring you, Lo. I want to be respectful, but shit goes down how it goes down when I go there with a woman, and it ain’t PG-13,” he said.
“He’s a heavy sleeper,” she whispered.
“Nah, not heavy enough.”
Lauren wanted to scream because who did he think he was to predict her level of pleasure. It was so cocky. He was sure of himself and his ability to please.
GOD. I WANT TO FUCK THIS NIGGA.
Lauren was sure she had lost her mind. This wasn’t a regular man she was talking about. His cloth complicated things. It made him seem like something she couldn’t have, shouldn’t crave, yet here she was, doing the unthinkable with one of God’s chosen. The challenge of his resistance but knowing how badly he wanted to have her was foreplay all by itself. This temptation was one she didn’t have the willpower to keep resisting.
“We’ll have to keep it light, for now,” he said, finally pressing his lips to hers. Lauren melted. It felt so good to be dominated in a way that still made her feel safe. She didn’t know how he could touch her like a lover with the limited time they had spent together. His kisses were so deep that they made private places tremble with desire. Her body was begging him for connection, for touch, her clit throbbing uncontrollably as the pulse between her thighs raced the one in her chest.
“You taste so good,” she moaned. He tasted like a man. Like deep chocolate and cinnamon, like too much of him would make her tummy ache. He was an instant new favorite flavor for Lauren.
Legs up, around his waist, she had no insecurities about how heavy she might be because this man was built like an athlete. She could only imagine his stamina. She didn’t know if he tried to press into her the way he was doing or if dick just naturally found pussy, but she felt him and she wanted it. BAD. More than she had ever wanted it in her life. She just needed these clothes to go away; hell, she needed DJ’s little-ass to go away at thispoint, because the damage she imagined Nyair would do was irresistible.
