My chest heaved and my free hand clenched into a fist at my side. "Maybe so, but I'm tired of cooking for an ungrateful ass nigga who can't decide if he wants me or his other client."
That weight being lifted off my chest gave me a lot more room to breathe. It was the raw and ugly truth spilling out before I could stop it. His jaw tightened and for a second, something flashed in his eyes that almost looked like pain, then it was gone in a blink, replaced by an unreadable mask.
"That's what you think?" He asked, his voice dropped to a dangerously quiet tone.
"I don't know what to think, Syx," I shot back, releasing a bucket full of emotions and throwing it on him. "You keep giving mixed signals. One minute you're calling me baby, giving me forehead kisses, and we're building chemistry. The next, you're putting up this professional wall and talking about boundaries and putting things into perspective. I'm a motherfucking puppet, Syx. You're just like the rest of these niggas. You think I don't know when I'm being played with? I know what I came here to do, but so did you," my voice began to quiver, and I couldn't regain control of my emotions if I tried because I've been holding so much shit in.
"You fell for me too, but you're too coward to admit it, so you create distance between us and you'd rather make me hate you than love you. That's quite the fucking manipulator, don't you think, Syx?!" I challenged, tilting my chin to meet his lowered gaze. "We ain't doing shit but playing tug of war! You don't get to decide who you love, Syx! You can't fucking help it. I wasn't intending on falling head over heels for you, not like this."
He released the tight grip he had on my arm and used that hand to wipe across his face, while releasing a deep sigh of frustration, then landed his eyes back on mine with a squinted gaze.
"I ain't supposed to be feeling like this, Nyne. That's why I'm pulling away, because I know the type of love you deserve. I can't give you that, baby. I was straight up from the get go. I can't do shit with your heart. The only thing I can do is make you cum. I wasn't lying when I said that shit, man. Trust me, everything you feel, I feel, but I shouldn't have been. That's why I been pulling away because we live two different lives. I've built a brand off of pleasing women and I'm good at it, but you're the first woman to make me feel something and that shit drives me crazy. Out of all the pussy I've been in, yours feels like home and I see a future with you, but I'm tied up with this shit, and I know I'd have to make you a priority and be forced to choose?—"
"Am I not worth the sacrifice?" I muttered in disbelief.
He grew silent and that scared me for the most part.
Oddly enough, I'm used to coming in second to men and while I shouldn't have allowed it, it became something I tolerated as if it was normal. Malcolm took some healing, but a pinch of me still put men before me and that's where I went wrong. When relationships end, many women seek new ones with the optimistic belief that we will eventually find worthiness, leaving past pain behind. Despite the fear of a fresh start, we hold onto the hope that true love will arrive, requiring only their willingness to let go and accept it. We often enter new relationships after breakups, hoping to discover our own value and move past previous hurts. Although initiating anew can be daunting, we remain committed to the notion that genuine love is attainable with surrender.
"I don't know, Nyne." He finally spoke, chopping the eerie silence. "Shit! I don't know how to control this when you're all I think about."
"Nigga, fuck you! I just caught you flirting with another bitch a few days ago. You like the idea of being a multi-woman man and I'm not surprised if you came up with making women cum just for your sick ass fantasy and got a group of other niggas into the same weird shit as you."
He gave me a blank face, then released a low chuckle. "Either way, you're here."
That got a scold out of me. He was cutting me deeper and deeper. Without thinking, I raised my hand and slapped the shit out of him. Apparently, it hurt me more than it hurt him because he didn't move, but my hand was stinging. I was starting to regret my decision. I prepared for him to slap me back, but he didn't. All he did was stare at me with a grim expression.
Deciding not to probe further, I walked past him, with my hand still stinging, without an ounce of regret, but the hurt remained heavy on my heart.
I sauntered somewhere into the house and dropped to the floor and cried, rocking myself back and forth. Wherever my gym essentials landed, I didn't care because I was crushed and it wasn't getting any easier. I thought doing yoga was going to clear my mind, but it didn't when the problem was only a few feet away.
The cake walk both of us were in was putting a hold on my heart and I couldn't handle it. The worst thing for me to do was fall for a man that had no intentions of loving me back. It was a double-edged sword for the both of us. We're both grown and we should be able to live fearlessly without falling. I know who I want, but if only I can get my heart to pull away and agree with what my mind is telling me, this'll be a whole lot easier.
Releasing a deep sob, I felt arms snake around me and hold me tight as I rocked myself back and forth, releasing a puddle full of tears, enough for both of us to drown in. Then I felt a kiss to my earlobe, and again once more on the side of my face.
"I never meant to hurt you, Nyne." His deep voice damn near swooned me into a coma. "We shouldn't have let it get this far, baby. In another lifetime, I'll choose you…It'll always be you. You're worthy of so much more than what I can give you. That's my only regret." He admitted.
His words fell on deaf ears, but regardless of that, it wouldn't change a thing. Men have ways of playing and pulling their card of manipulation on women who'll fall for it. That's how they maneuver through life. It's a pretty fucked up mentality to have. The more he kept talking, the more I cried. There was nothing he could say to make me feel better.
"Nyne, baby, tell me something. Talk to me. Cuss me out and shit. I don't like being the reason you cry like this." He mumbled in my ear, his beard tickling the sides of my face and shoulder.
Again, once more, I ignored him until he picked me up and carried me bridal style up the stairs. His arm was soaked with tears that when I opened my eyes, everything was blurry. I hadn't realized we were in my room until I blinked my tears away to see the familiar painting on the walls and the 70-inch flat screen television mounted on the wall. I was prepared for him to lay me down on the bed, but I wasn't prepared for him to stay. He'd already pushed the covers back and just as my eyes opened and my blurry vision regained focus, he was bowing down between my legs, pulling my leggings down with little to no effort. My mouth gaped open in shock when he gripped my panties too, sliding them down with equal ease.
"Syx—" I started, but the word died in my throat when he spread my thighs wide. His large hands gripped the soft fleshand his thumbs pressed into the crease where my legs met my hips.
"Nah," he said, his voice rough and commanding. "You don't get to talk right now. You been running your mouth and shit and going upside a nigga's head. Now you gon' shut the fuck up and let me apologize the only way I know how."
My breath hitched and my heart hammered against my ribs. I was still angry, but my body was already responding to him. When the heat of his breath wafted against my inner thighs, I gasped. Syx had no intentions of letting up, so when his fingers dug into my skin, I knew he was about to punish me and make things worse for the both of us.
"I hate you," I whispered, but it came out weak and unconvincing.
"I know," he said, and then his mouth covered my pussy. With his tongue, he skillfully spread my swollen pussy and sucked on my slit, slowly, making my knees buckle.
The first touch of his tongue made me gasp. The long lick from my pussy hole to my clit had my back arching off the bed. He didn't want to ease into it this time, I guess. He went straight for what he wanted, his tongue flat and wide, lapping me up like he was dehydrated and my pussy provided electrolytes.
"Fuck," I breathed, my hands flew to his head and dug into his scalp, messing up his waves.
He groaned against my pussy, sending vibration waves of shock through my core. Then he began devouring me, his mouth hot, wet, and relentless. His tongue circling my clit before sucking it between his lips was the sexiest, obscene sound and the kind of nastiness that should've embarrassed me but only made my pussy wetter.
