I rolled my eyes and simultaneously cracked a slight smile. The way he said that took me back to a time when it was us against the world. Booda had always been demanding, but he was never loud and never begged. He said something once and expected me to fall in line, and most of the time that was what I did.
I didn’t mind following his lead because Booda protected me, spent bags on me like it was nothing, and made sure I never had to ask for anything twice. He knew how to take care of me, mentally, physically, and emotionally.
If I got mad, he knew how to calm me down, and when he was wrong, he knew how to fix it in a way that made it hard to stay upset with him.
Booda had an effect on me that I couldn’t shake, nor did I want to. I listened, even when I wanted to be stubborn, and even when I had doubts. Because Booda… he was all man. No imitation. No flake. I knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t lead me astray.
Sitting here now, hearing him call me like that again, I felt that same pull trying to reel me back in.
Before I realized what I was doing, I was on my feet and inside the bathroom.
Booda stood just outside the shower, his dick hanging mid-thigh, with a smirk on his face. He knew I would come whenever he talked to me like that. I was pathetic.
“I like that you listen. That’s what kept a nigga going hard for you,” he said, and inside I swooned like a little bitch.
But I didn’t show it.
Instead, I stripped out of my clothes and said, “Whatever,” as I passed by him to turn on the shower.
Grabbing my hand, he guided me into the tub and stepped in behind me.
Steam rose around us. The water was hot enough to sting, but it didn’t touch the heat building in me when I felt Booda’s chest press against my back.
Next thing I knew, his hands were everywhere.
He started at my shoulders, fingers working in slow, deliberate circles as if he knew exactly where the tension sat.
A breath slipped out of me before I could catch it, and I clenched my jaw, annoyed at myself for giving him that.
“Relax, Momma,” he murmured, thumbs digging deeper along the base of my neck. “I’ma take care of you like I used to.”
His touch slid lower, working down my back, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment a little too much.
“Damn,” he said under his breath. “You still fine as fuck.”
I rolled my eyes, but he kept going, his hands spreading across my sides, taking his time.
“You were fine back then, but now…” he went on, lips close to my ear. “You even better. This chocolate skin is even softer. Yo’ back smooth as hell… and you still got the kind of curves that make muthafuckas break they neck to look at you.”
His hands traveled lower, kneading and exploring as if he was trying to learn my body all over again.
“That ass still sits just right. It ain’t big, but it’s enough to fill my hands. I love that shit,” he said, cupping both cheeks as he used his thumb to massage them. “You perfect, baby.”
I swallowed hard, staring straight ahead as tears of longing filled my eyes.
“You cut your hair,” he added, fingers brushing the side of my head. “Fits you. Shows off those high cheekbones.”
His hand moved to my chin, and he guided my head his way to get a better look.
“I love every part of you,” he said, taking me in.
My heart pounded, and I felt my clit thump, but I held firm. I couldn’t let him talk me out of my panties. Well, technically, they were already off, but I couldn’t let him get inside me.
At least not yet.
“Don’t start,” I whispered.
“I ain’t started nothing,” he replied, voice steady. “I’m just calling it like I see it.”
