“Bullshit! How the fuck are you trying, when you letting that nigga move in?!”
“Because I told him that he could. At least until he finds his own place.”
“What?” He grimaced. “You talking like this is a regular nigga. Like he can’t get a spot with the snap of a finger. Miss me with that.”
“Well…I’m…I'ma do it on my own time. Not yours—”
“I been throwing up, Summer,” he interjected. “Just like the last time. I know you pregnant. Look at them titties. Can barely fit in that bra now.”
Tears clouded my vision. “And you did that shit on fucking purpose!”
“So, what?! It was time to shit or get off the fucking pot.”
I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “I’m still not doing nothing, just cause you say so. I wanna do this quietly. My way. And I won’t let you rush me, as if you don’t have your own bullshit to clean up. Especially with Ora.”
“So, so, I’m supposed to just let you lay up with that nigga, while you carrying my child?”
“You know damn well that I haven’t been fucking that boy. And I have no plans to do so. But I’m handling this delicately. Because I don’t wanna be the stain on his start in the league. He doesn’t deserve that.”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “I aint going for this shit. Matter of fact, since that nigga is flying in,” he mentioned, letting me know that he’d heard more of my conversation than if I’d thought. “I’ll be in this muthafucka, waiting till he gets here. Then we can have a long conversation about all this bullshit.”
I gulped. “And you’d be out of line. Cause at the end of the day, he was your friend. You decided to fuck with me, regardless. So, why be so cruel now?”
Ricky sucked his teeth. “You talking like he’s a fucking child. Him not having one girl aint gone be the end of the world. He’ll get over it.”
I shook my head. “I’m tired of all this drama.”
“Shit, me too,” he claimed.
“Okay, then give me a few weeks to do this the right way,” I pleaded. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“You asking for too much,” he swore. “Am I supposed to just be at the house, praying that you aint letting that nigga feed my baby?”
“Feed the baby?” I repeated in confusion.
“Yeah. If you fuck him while you pregnant, then he’s feeding the baby.”
“Wait, what?” I tittered. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“It’s a nigga thang. You wouldn’t understand.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever—”
He gripped my neck. “If you fuck that nigga, then we all dying ‘round this muthafucka.”
I giggled. “This my pussy. You can’t tell me what to do with it—”
“You think this a fucking game?” He growled, while tightening the grip on my throat.
“You better stop,” I barely got out.
Pulling me in, he hungrily kissed me.
I slightly pulled back, while he was still gripping my neck. “You might as well stop all this, cause I’m not fucking you.”
Needless to say, two minutes later, my bra and panties were on the floor. I was on all fours, face down, ass up. The only thing Ricky wore was a muscle shirt that was behind his neck, as he gripped my ass with both hands, while powerfully driving into me from the back. With one leg on the floor, he was venturing balls deep.
“Ughhhh!” I screamed, as our skin loudly clapped.
