Page 119 of Just Like Summer

Cairo flipped her over, pinned her hands behind her back and kept that deep stroke that would make a mess of her. “I love you. You hear me?”

“Yesss,” she whined, trying to keep her moan low.

“Say that shit, Mariposa.”

“You love me,” she whimpered.

“I love you,” he grunted, smacking her ass and watching it ripple. “I’m sorry for hurtin’ you. I will never do that shit again. Say it.”

“Ohhh, baby. I’m about-”

“Not until you fuckin’ say it. Say it.”

“You love me and you’ll never hurt me again,” she pushed out so beautifully while coating his dick with her essence.

“Pretty ass pussy wrapped around me. You gonna give me another baby, Mila?” he questioned, leaning in and grabbing her chin. Kamilla sucked his thumb and moaned. “I can’t hear you?”

“Yes, baby. Yes. I’ll give you another baby. Shit.” She bucked back, pushing him into the cushions and hopped on his lap. Bouncing up and down on his length, she licked the side of his face. “I can’t stand you.”

He smirked, grabbing her hips and slamming her down on him. “Why? Say that shit.”

“I didn’t even make you work for it,” she whimpered, holding him close. “Just gave it back to you and you took it. Fuck, you feel so good inside of me.”

Cairo licked up the light layer of sweat settling between her breasts. “Shit was mine to fuckin’ take. You love a nigga that’s why. And you know with every pretty ass fiber of your body that I love you too. You’re my fuckin’ moon.”

He could feel her body getting closer to the edge and let her go so she could put her palms on his knees and give him that beautiful view of her tautness creaming over him. “Yeahhh,” he groaned, circling his thumb over her bud. “That’s my creamy ass pussy, Mariposa?”

“Yes, it is. Yes, it is. Yes, it fuckin’ is,” she shivered. “Come inside of it and take care of me.”

Cairo felt his eruption rising and pumped into her, turning her cream into a sticky thick mess. “Pretty ass moon, you know that?”

She opened her eyes and peered into his. “Mmhmm. I know. I know.”

forty-nine

The vibration of her phone on her nightstand woke her up. She was sure she passed out after taking his dick to the back of her throat and riding him again. It was well past Kairo’s nap time. Patting the bed for her son while reaching for her phone, she answered one and couldn’t find the other.

“Hello,” she tiredly answered, pushing herself out of the bed.

“I’ve been calling you for days and now you answer?” Aunt J’s voice came through like a wrecking ball.

“How’d you get this number?” she questioned. For the last five years, Aunt J would call and Kamilla would ignore it and change the number. She’d been caught slipping because she was half-awakened in a post-dick haze. One she was hoping to stay in for the rest of the night.

“You’re my niece, what do you mean how did I get this number? I have my ways. I can’t call you and check on you?” she questioned with an attitude of entitlement.

“No, actually. Because the only talking I should be doing with you is with my fists.”

It was one thing for Aunt J to support Martez, mourn his death harder than she mourned her sister and take her college money and stuff it into her ass. It was another to set up Cairo. The set up that Dania called from the get-go was verified a month and half after Kamilla gave birth to Kairo. She popped up at the house with her opportunist spirit in full view. In a heated exchange, Aunt J let it slip that she didn’t regret calling the cops and telling them that Cairo was the shooter. It only added another layer of scar tissue to Kamilla’s mounting guilt. The fight was so loud and so bad that Fredo had to separate the two and dare Aunt J to come back.

Every year since she’d call to aggravate her because she was miserable and then demand money. Kamilla had never given her a dime, but it never stopped this type of behavior. All Aunt J was proving was that she was as weird and demented as Martez.

“You know how to stop these calls, right? Give me that money. I heard he’s home now. I’ll tell them who the real shooter is. You got the whole hood against me. I can’t even find a decent job. My house is fuckin’ gone. You owe me. Crazy how’d you rather fuck the nigga responsible for KP’s death than take care of your family,” she hissed just like a snake.

“Crazy how you would rather Martez rape me and me keep quiet than fighting for myself. And I can’t help but to assume the same thing happened to you. I know that your brother was killed because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You might be okay with living in that misery, but I am not. And I’m not holding on to the trauma to keep it going for generations. You enjoy it. If you call me again, I will lose this little bit of cool I’m holding on to and come whoop your ass. It’s a promise. Now go tell the police that, you badly built extortionist,” Kamilla shot back before hanging up, blocking the number and huffing. “Can’t even enjoy bliss for a second.”

She walked down the stairs, finding her two favorite people sitting on the couch watching TV. The intensity in Cairo’s gaze let her know that he’d gone, handled the issue, and came back. Take-out was on the kitchen counter and the mess they made was cleaned up.

Sitting next to them, she kissed each and sighed. “You good?”