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She wrapped her hand around the base and looked up at me. “Mm. I missed this.”

My head fell back against the couch as she took me in her mouth.

“Fuckkk.”

She ran her tongue under the base of my dick, and my hips rose to meet her. She swirled around the tip as her soft hand twisted at the base.

She pulled away with soft pop, continuing to stroke me slowly.

“Condom’s in my pocket,” I rasped.

She fished it out and rolled it on.

“Nah,” I said, stopping her when she tried to get on top. I stood, bending her over the arm of the couch and yanked her shorts down. Harmony arched at the perfect angle, looking over her shoulder as I pushed inside her.

“Dez—oh shit,” she gasped. Her face dropped into the cushion as she moaned, hands reaching back to grip my thighs as I gave her hard deep strokes. “Fuck. Just like that.”

I gripped her harder as I drilled into her, trying to focus on how good she felt. But when I closed my eyes, there was Belle’s face again, and my dick only grew harder thinking about what it’d feel like to have her like this instead.

I growled and picked up the pace, like I could fuck the image out my head if I went hard enough.

“Oh God,” Harmony hissed. I put one foot up on the couch, braced a hand on her shoulder, and took my frustration out on her. I was pissed at myself for using one woman to stop thinking about another. I already knew it wasn’t going to work.

Harmony came first—loud, her whole body clenching around me as she buried her face in the cushion. I followed a minute later, slamming deep one last time as I released into the condom.

I pulled out and stood there for a second, breathing hard, my heart pounding. My legs felt like they were filled with lead.

Harmony turned over and sat on the couch, fixing her bonnet back into place.

“Damn,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “Who pissed you off?”

I chuckled, pulling off the condom. “Nobody.”

“Lying again.” She stood up on shaky legs and grabbed her shorts off the ground. “You forget how long I’ve known you.”

She took the condom from me to throw away as I pulled up my boxers and pants. She returned with a bottle of water.

“Well, that was fun,” she said, plopping down on the couch again. “You staying?”

“Nah. I got shit to handle in the morning.”

She nodded as I bent down to kiss her forehead. “Be good, ma.”

“I’m always good, Dez.” She blew me a kiss and stretched out on the couch.

My mind was a little clearer, the tension pent up in my body gone. And before I realized it, I was driving past Belle’s building like a fucking stalker.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, shaking my head.

I was too fucking old to go back and forth with a woman who wanted to play power games. I opened my phone and deleted her number.

8 LA’BELLE EVANS

When I was thirty, I dated a guy named Andrew who worked in pharmaceutical sales and had a cute condo in Jersey City. He didn’t make enough for me to skim off of, but he was sweet and liked buying me gifts and sending me money. For my birthday that year, we flew to Palm Springs first class and I was so hype about it, mostly because it was more than the nigga before him had ever done.

Then eight months in, his wife called me.

Not a bitter ex or baby mama. This fool had a whole wife and two kids that he lived with in a big ass house in Bergen County. She wasn’t mad at me, because this wasn’t Andrew’s first time stepping out, and how could I have possibly known? The place in Jersey City was their rental property that he used for his other women. Apparently, it was cheaper to keep her than get a divorce.