“Damn, Goddess.”
“Don’t stop.”
He didn’t.
His pace was slow at first. Deliberate. Savoring. Both hands gripping my hips, pulling me to the edge of the dresser, fillingme completely with every stroke. I wrapped my legs around him and he went deeper and I swear I forgot my own name.
“Look at me,” he said.
I opened my eyes. His face was inches from mine. Those dark eyes locked on me with an intensity that made me feel like the only woman on the planet.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. Not a compliment. A fact. Delivered the same way he’d say the sky is blue. “Every stretch mark. Every curve. Every pound. All of it. You hear me?”
“I hear you.”
“Say it back.”
“I’m beautiful.”
“Again.”
“I’m beautiful.”
“That’s my girl.” He kissed me and picked up the pace and everything after that was a blur of skin and sweat and sounds I’d be embarrassed about if the babies weren’t napping in the nursery down the hall with the white noise machine drowning out their mama’s lack of self-control.
When it was over, we were on the floor. Somehow. Don’t ask me how. My dress was crumpled under us like a blanket and his sweats were somewhere near the bathroom door.
“I have to redo my hair,” I said, staring at the ceiling.
“Your hair looks fine.”
“My hair looks like I just had sex on a dresser and then fell on the floor.”
“So it looks accurate.”
I laughed. That full body laugh that came from the belly. The kind I didn’t know I was capable of half a year ago when I was sitting in a jail cell wondering if I’d ever laugh again.
He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at me. Really looked. No smirk. No jokes. Just Prime.
“You happy, Goddess?”
I thought about it. Not because I didn’t know the answer, but because I wanted to feel it fully before I said it. Wanted to hold it in my chest and make sure it was real.
My sister’s murder was solved. Her killer was paying for it. The charges against me were dropped. My babies were healthy. Yusef was back in school, a much better private school, and killing it. My business was thriving. My other sister was finding her power. And the man lying next to me on this floor loved me in a way I didn’t think was possible.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m happy.”
He leaned down and kissed my forehead. Soft. Like I was something precious.
“Good. Now go do your Essence interview. And tell them your man said you’re the baddest woman in America.”
“I’m not telling them that.”
“I’ll call them myself.”
“You absolutely will not.”
“Watch me.”
