12. Sametra #2
“Anyway,” I laughed. I thought about my stepmom. She was just like one of my best friends, always hot in the pants, her and my Daddy still flirted constantly even after all these years. Lorana took one look at Malik last night and knew her stepdaughter had found her match.
“Plus,” Halo added, sliding a mimosa across the table, “we’ve been waiting for you to get some good loving for literally years. This calls for celebration.”
I took a sip of the mimosa, the bubbles tickling my nose. “It was... perfect. He was perfect. Dinner was perfect with my family, Daddy actually likes him, which you know is a miracle.”
“Okay, but what about after dinner?” Winnie pressed, leaning forward with hungry eyes. “Because that smile you’re wearing and the way you keep touching your neck says you’re getting flashbacks.”
Heat crept up my face. “Y’all are terrible.”
“That’s a yes!” Halo squealed. “Our girl got some premium dick last night!”
“The best, 91 octane type shit,” I admitted, and they erupted in cheers like their favorite team had just won the championship.
“Details, heffa,” Winnie demanded.
So I told them. Not everything; some things were too sacred, too personal to share even with my girls.
I couldn’t tell them I ate his dick whole on the first night.
I definitely couldn’t tell them he ate my ass, and I ain’t never had no shit like that done to me before.
But I told them enough. About how gentle he was, how he took care of me, how he made me feel like the most desired woman in the world.
Because, as nasty as he was, he still made love to me.
I bit my lip, trying to hide my smile, but my girls caught it immediately.
“Oh, you got it bad,” Winnie observed. “Like, completely out of your damn mind.”
“This is beautiful to witness,” Halo added. I’d known Halo since she started at the fire station. We both decided that as the only two Black women, we would stick together. We’d been attached at the hip since then. She had definitely seen some low moments.
“Okay, maybe a little crazy about the nigga, but not full blown, give him a threesome crazy.”
“So glad you clarified that,” Winnie joked, making us laugh loud as hell.
“Just promise us something,” Winnie said, her tone growing more serious. “Don’t let fear make you push him away. It’s time to put yourself first for once.”
Winnie was different but just as important.
She’d been my friend since grade school until her family moved away due to military orders.
We’d stayed in contact through letters, then emails, then texts, and video calls.
When she told me she was moving back to St. Ambrose after her husband’s retirement, I knew I was about to be blessed with having my day-one best friend back in my life.
Having both of them here now, watching me finally find real love, felt like everything was coming full circle.
I nodded, emotion thick in my throat. “I promise.”
“Good,” Winnie said, raising her mimosa. “To our girl, finally getting the love she deserves.”
“To Dr. Big Daddy,” Halo added with a wicked grin, “for knowing how to treat a queen.”
“To Dr. Big Daddy.”
I couldn’t wait to see him again tonight.
It was as if I hadn’t just seen him this morning.
I think I was at the beginning stages of being dickmatized.
I hadn’t thought about cooking for a man in ages, but tonight I was about to be a domestic goddess, feed my man pasta, rub his belly, and then sit on his face if the night permitted.
After the girls left, I threw myself into cooking with an energy I hadn’t felt in years.
I put on my old-school playlist and danced around the kitchen while browning Italian sausage, ground beef, and the ricotta mixture, coming together perfectly.
The smell of garlic and herbs filled the house as I stuffed the shells, adding extra cheese because Samaj was a cheese fanatic.
I was sliding the dish into the oven when I heard the front door open.
“Ma, I’m home!” Samaj called out, the sound of his wheelchair rolling across the hardwood following his voice.
“In the kitchen, baby!” I called back, wiping my hands on a dish towel.
He rolled in looking tired but happy. “Smells good in here. Stuffed shells?”
“Yes, and uhm, Dr. Holloway, Malik’s coming for dinner.” I tried to keep my voice casual, but the smile threatening to break across my face probably gave me away.
“Oh word?” Samaj grinned, parking his chair at the kitchen island. “So it’s like that now? Y’all a thing?”
“What you mean, ‘like that’?” I asked, pointing my finger at him playfully, though we both knew exactly what he meant.
“You invited him to dinner and you’re making the meal you love but hate to make because it’s sooo time consuming.” He shook his head, still smiling. “I’m happy for you, Ma. For real.”
“You sure? Because if this makes you uncomfortable?—”
“Ma, stop.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I told you yesterday I want you to be happy. And if Dr. Holloway makes you happy, then I’m team Malik all the way.”
“And what about the car? Should we give it back?”
“Ma, be foreal. I don’t think he would take it back anyway. I know enough about Dr. Holloway to know he doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. I enjoy our chats. That’s my dawg.”
“Heard from Ashe?” I asked, wondering if he’d told his son I denied him the chance to see him at ten at night. Ashe was a master manipulator, and I hoped my son was back in his right mind and seeing straight through his bullshit.
“Nah, barely. He’s still in town, but I don’t know. Lately I’ve been feeling like he ain’t being honest with me. I know I got some siblings or something. What do you think?”
“Nope, I’m not touching that baby. You wanted to learn, so I’ll remind you…a hard head makes a soft ass.”
“You ain’t gon let that go huh?”
“Yeah, not for at least three or four years,” I laughed as the doorbell rang. We both looked toward the front door, then at each other.
“That’s probably him,” I said, suddenly nervous.
“Go answer it,” Samaj said with a knowing smile. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”
I smoothed down my burgundy spandex shorts and crop top set that hugged me perfectly and showed off my curves just right. Taking a deep breath, I headed to the front door, my heart racing with anticipation.
Through the peephole, I could see Malik standing on my porch, looking good enough to eat in a Nike short set. He had a bottle of wine in one hand and what looked like dessert in the other.
I opened the door, and his eyes immediately traveled down my body and back up, lingering on my exposed midriff.
“Looking good as usual, LT,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “Stomach out, ass out. I brought banana pudding, but I’d much rather have you for dessert. You gon let me?”
“Maybe,” I said with a flirty smile, stepping aside to let him in. “Depends on how good you’ve been.”
He stepped inside, setting the wine and dessert on the side table before turning to face me fully. “I’m always good, baby.”
Before I could answer, he came closer, leaning in to kiss my lips. I moaned a little, tasting mint and Chapstick.
“Missed you,” he murmured against my mouth.
“It’s only been a few hours,” I laughed breathlessly, but I had missed him too.
“Too long,” he said, kissing me again before we heard Samaj’s wheelchair approaching.
“Y’all better break that up before I have to bleach my eyeballs,” Samaj called out, rolling into the living room looking freshly showered.
Malik stepped back but kept one arm around my waist. “What’ we know, Maj? How was the game?”
“We won, so it was good. And we know we got this. You good?”
“Better now,” Malik said, giving Malik dap. The sincerity in his voice made my heart skip.
We all took a seat at the table. I made plates and passed them around, we said grace and dug in.
They seemed to have jokes amongst each other, and I loved that.
He was with Malik at least three times a week, so it was natural for them to bond.
Malik always told me how much Samaj reminded him of himself, which is how he knew my son would make better decisions moving forward.
We ate, laughed, and had a good night. The boys praised my stuffed shells and helped me with the kitchen until Samaj retreated to his room. Me and Malik took the wine onto my patio and cuddled up under the string lights.
“Thank you for inviting me tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I felt at home. Needed that.”
“I felt like I needed to prove I could cook,” I shrugged, laughing. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t care one way or the other. You’re stuck with me even if you burn water. We’ll just hire a chef,” he said, and I giggled, but I clocked how he dodged the second half of my question.
So, I asked it a different way.
“You good? You miss home?”
He shifted. I reached up and grabbed his beard, gentle but firm, turning his face toward mine.
“Look at me. Is everything okay?”
He paused looking lovingly in my eyes before nodding. “Nothing I can’t handle. And yeah, I always miss home. There’s something about the South that don’t hit the same anywhere else. I’ll get back soon.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the sounds of the evening settled around us.
Crickets chirped in the distance; a soft breeze rustled through the trees.
The night was beautiful, not too hot and not too cool.
It was Friday and that meant my neighbors would be partying tonight, if they weren’t already.
I could already smell the grill going. The night air relaxed me a little. I was a creature of comfort.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked. Aware that my mind was running a mile a minute. I desperately wanted it to slow down, but we were getting closer every day, and I had questions. Questions I hoped didn’t run him off.
“Is it too soon for the ‘what are we’ conversation?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.