Chapter 8
8
Mona
W hen I invited Clinton over for breakfast, I didn’t know what to expect. Technically, I hadn’t ghosted him, but my lack of response to his messages may have made him feel otherwise. I lowkey didn’t expect him to agree to meet me so quickly, nor did I think he’d be happy to see me.
It was as if he was the missing piece to the puzzle I’d been trying to put together since he left my bed in New Orleans when I opened the door and saw his smiling face. I wasn’t expecting him to fling me over the back of the couch, devour my pussy, and fuck me like he did, but I wasn’t mad that he did.
Although I’d been committed to one man for several years, I’d had my share of sexual encounters prior to getting married. I’d been having sex for twenty years and had probably had as many partners before I met Winston, and not one of them treated my body the way Clinton did.
“Have a seat, and I’ll make you a plate,” I told him.
While he sat at my kitchen table, I piled French toast, bacon, eggs, and breakfast potatoes onto his plate. After putting it in the microwave and setting the timer to forty-five seconds, I turned to face him and leaned against the counter.
“Did you remember French toast is my favorite, or is this a coincidence?”
“I remembered.”
“I guess I can test your claim of making the best French toast ever.”
“I guarantee you will agree.”
When the timer ended, I took his plate from the microwave, sauntered to the table, and placed it in front of him.
“Do you want water, milk, orange juice, or a mimosa?”
“I’ll take a mimosa, please.”
Before preparing his drink, I retrieved the syrup from the pantry and put it on the table. When I tried to walk away, he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulled me to his side, and bowed his head.
“Lord, thank You for this food, the woman who prepared it, and the glorious appetizer between her thighs she allowed me to dine on before this meal. Amen.”
“Oh my God! I’m not saying amen to that. You’re nasty for no damn reason.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining a few minutes ago.”
“Whatever.”
I pushed away from him and went to the fridge to get the champagne and orange juice. Before returning to the table with his drink, I made a plate for myself and put it in the microwave.
“Here you go.”
I put the glass on the table in front of him and waited for him to look up from his plate.
“What the hell did you put in this batter?” he questioned with his mouth full.
“That’s my little secret.” I winked before going to the microwave to get my food and glass of orange juice from the counter.
I sat across from him and began eating my food. When he picked up his glass, I noticed his eyes fell on mine.
“Just orange juice for you?”
I nodded, trying not to make a big deal out of it. “I had a few glasses before you arrived to calm my nerves.”
He leaned his head to the side with a questioning gaze. “Why were you nervous?”
“A few reasons, but mainly because we hadn’t talked in a while, and I’ve been ignoring your texts for three months. I wasn’t sure what your attitude would be like.”
He chuckled. “First of all, I’m a grown-ass man. I don’t get attitudes. Secondly, I already told you I just wanted you to know I was thinking of you. It would’ve been a pleasant surprise had you responded, but I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Did you really think of me that much?”
“I did, and every attempt to get you off my mind failed miserably, so I gave up.”
“What kinds of things did you do to get me off your mind?”
His brow raised. “Umm, I’m pretty sure you don’t want to know. Now, about this French toast batter…”
He’d just finished the last bite of his food.
I shook my head. “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”
“It’s that serious, huh?”
“I need something to keep you coming back.”
“Shit, if you let me eat that pussy as an appetizer before every meal, you’ll never get rid of me.”
“Is that the only reason you’re here… for sex?”
“Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.”
“Let’s go to the living room.” He stood and extended his hand toward mine, and I took it, allowing him to help me up.
Our hands remained connected until he sat on the couch and pulled me onto his lap.
“Let me clear up any confusion. This isn’t about sex. I can get sex from plenty of women. I feel something with you that I haven’t felt with another woman, and when you’re ready, I want to explore it.”
“I started therapy when I returned from New Orleans.”
“Has it helped?”
“It’s helped a lot, and I’ve discovered quite a bit about myself. One of them is that I’m afraid to be alone. That’s why I stayed with Win—”
“Ain’t shit changed, Mona. Don’t mention that nigga’s name in my presence.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed before continuing without mentioning Winston. “I stayed in my marriage longer than I should have and took the disrespect, the lying, the cheating, the verbal abuse, and so much more because I was afraid of doing life alone.”
“Do you—”
“Wait, I’m not done.”
“My bad, baby.”
“When I reflected, I realized I didn’t need a therapist to tell me that, but she helped me acknowledge and deal with it. When I told you I wasn’t ready for a relationship, I was trying to prove to myself that I could be alone.”
He didn’t respond immediately, probably waiting to make sure I was done talking. “Have your feelings about being in a relationship changed?”
“If you’re asking if I’m ready… I guess that’s debatable. I’m still working on me, but I found the happiness I’ve been looking for within. All these years, I was looking for my partner to make me happy, but now I know I’m the only person responsible for my happiness.”
“That’s beautiful, baby.”
“It is. I don’t fear being alone anymore, but I don’t want to be. I want someone to share my happiness with.”
“I know someone who wants to help increase your level of happiness and enhance your life if you’ll allow him.”
I leaned forward and kissed his lips. “Really? Tell me more.”
“He’s handsome, financially stable, you won’t have to worry about baby mama drama, and he understands what it means to be in a committed relationship.”
“He sounds very intriguing, but you left out one thing.”
“Really? He sounds perfect to me.”
I stood, lifted the hem of my sweater, and pulled it over my head. “I need to know what that dick do.”
He pushed his sweatpants over his hips, and the way his dick sprang to life made my mouth pop open.
“I think you know, but c’mere and let me remind you.”
He adjusted his body on the couch, and I straddled him, slowly sinking onto his dick. We sighed with relief as if we hadn’t connected this way less than an hour ago.
“Show me how you ride this dick.” His voice was low and filled with desire.
I grabbed the back of the couch to brace myself. My breasts aligned with his mouth, and he took full advantage of it, swiping his tongue across my nipples.
“Mmm, yes, baby,” I cooed while moving my hips in a circular motion.
The more he licked, the wetter my pussy became. As I squeezed my walls around him, I tightened my grip on the back of the couch and bounced my ass up and down.
“Nah, you ain’t playing fair, baby.”
He palmed my ass and took control of my rhythm, slowing my pace. However, nothing could stop the storm between our loins from brewing. Our climaxes began to build, and the simultaneous pulsing and throbbing sent me over the edge.
“Oh damn! I’m—”
“Me, too, baby. Let it go!”
My apartment was momentarily filled with moans and groans until only our heavy breathing could be heard. His head rested on my chest while mine fell on his shoulder. I inhaled his manly scent, mixed with our combined pheromones, and it smelled like the sexiest perfume ever created.
“You good?” he whispered.
“Yes… and I’m pregnant.”