TWENTY-ONE
I admire the soft lilac sunset as Kross drives into the harbor parking lot. He kills the engine and shifts to me, his Adam’s apple bobbing at a hard swallow. “My mama’s a crackhead.”
“Oh,” I gasp. “I’m so sorry.”
“She ran from an abusive home at sixteen, fell into the trap of a pimp, became a prostitute, and he got her pregnant.” I remain quiet, allowing him to share his story. “CPS took me from my mama at five years old after a neighbor realized I was alone in the apartment.”
“God…” I reach over to touch his hand.
He catches his breath and continues. “I went into foster care with a woman who collected the state checks and barely cared for the kids. So I turned to the streets at twelve.” He lowers his eyes from me as if embarrassed. “I sold drugs up until fifteen when I met Cairo. He brought me to Mama G and changed my life.”
“You’ve dealt with a lot,” I say. “Made it through. You didn’t allow your pain to hold you back or fall victim to it. You’re thriving. A successful businessman. And you help others.”
My heart relaxes as his lips slowly curl into a tender smile. “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say.”
He traces my knuckles with his thumb, inciting warmth in my belly. “So, what’s your deep shit?”
“My mom had me at fifteen,” I reveal. “To this day, she refuses to tell me who my father is or what happened. It could be a classmate. A dirty old creep in the neighborhood. No one knows the truth except her.”
Sympathy fills his eyes. “Davi…”
“My mom dumped me on my grandparents. She visited once every few months until I turned eighteen. We barely spoke while I was at fashion school.”
“Where was she living?” he asks.
“With friends. My grandpa kicked her out when they learned of the pregnancy. He asked her to move back after his anger cleared, but she didn’t. There’s still tension between them to this day.”
“Man,” he exhales.
“That’s my messy story. Don’t feel ashamed about yours.”
“I was worried learning about my past would chase you off,” he says. “And I don’t…”
“You don’t what?” I urge in a soft tone.
He stares into my eyes. “I don’t want to lose whatever this is, Davi. Even if the moments are brief.”
I glance at our linked hands, now realizing how intimate it is. “What are we doing?”
“You tell me,” he groans, lifting his other hand to stroke my cheek. “You’re the one who keeps acting.” My eyes close on their own as he lowers to my neck and presses his thumb against my pulse point. “I can’t be just a friend, baby girl. I know you’re feeling it, too.”
“Kross…”
“I want to know every little thing about you,” he rasps, his voice laced with need. “Your favorite flower, dessert, and your favorite thing to do that helps you relax.”
It’s hard to fight the emotions when he’s touching me. The answers slip out in a horny breath. “Orchids. Strawberry shortcake. I love stargazing.”
“Damn.” His fingers lower, hovering just above my breast. “What I’d give to eat your pussy while you stare at the stars.”
“Ah!” I jump and open my eyes at the sudden vibrations on my lap. Pulling away, I rifle in my bag and snatch out my phone, wincing when I realize it’s Jamir. I swallow before answering, “Uh, hey.”
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Um, walking in the park,” I lie, hearing Kross sniff.
“With Trishell?” Jamir questions, tone calm instead of accusatory.
I look at Kross as I lie again, “By myself.”
He cuts his gaze to the harbor, clenching his jaw.
“What’s up?”
“I thought about how I spoke to you yesterday. It was terrible. I’m sorry for not believing you. You’re a loyal and honest woman. You’d never cheat on me.”
Yet, here I am with Kross, my pussy clenching and opening in preparation for his dick. “Hmm.”
“I’ll meet you at the park,” Jamir says.
“No,” I respond a little too fast. “I’m already at my car. Come by later after I clean my apartment.”
“Okay. I love you, baby.”
It feels like a challenge to say the three words. I’m not sure I mean them wholeheartedly anymore. “See you.” I hang up and drop the phone back into my bag.
The tension in the car is thick. My body’s yearning for another touch, and at the same time, guilt is bitch-slapping me.
Breaking the silence, I rasp, “Thank you for lunch and inviting me to the youth center.”
Kross turns to me after a few seconds. “You happy with him?”
“Jamir’s a good man.”
“That’s not what I asked, Davi.”
“It’s the answer I have.” I glance at my lap. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I want you,” he says firmly, touching my chin and making me look at him. “You can’t be happy with how he treats you. Maybe it was great before, but lately, he neglects you. He puts his work above you and isn’t interested in your passion. You’re still with him ‘cause of the years between you. But you aren’t happy.”
“How do you know that, Kross?”
“Cause I see you, baby. See the joy in your eyes when you’re with me, hear it in your voice, and feel it flowing from your body. Now tell me, you want to dive deeper with me?”
The conviction in his words shoots through me like electricity. Despite having a powerful urge to explore these emotions, I keep thinking it’ll hurt Jamir and Iree. She loves Kross. Jamir loves me.
Suppressing the hunger, I turn to the window and say, “No.” The word weighs a ton coming out.
Kross scoffs at my response and starts the car.
I stare at my lap while contemplating. There’s no denying I’m all twisted inside because of this man. I don’t feel the same rush with Jamir. Not even close.
The drive back to my car in the youth center parking lot is quiet. Kross is about to get out to open the door for me, but I stop him. “That’s okay. Thanks again. And thank you for trusting me with your story.”
“Thank you for listening and sharing your own.”
“See you.”
“Soon,” he declares. “Cause I’m not backing down.”
“Kross…”
“Davi.” His piercing gaze makes my pussy pucker. “Don’t fuck him.”
I jerk my head back. “That’s… bold of you.”
My body shivers as he reaches over and caresses my lips with his thumb, turning my panties wet. “The sounds you made on the phone while falling apart prove it’s my dick you want inside you. So don’t force yourself to fuck that man. When you’re ready, tell me.”
A soft groan breaks free, inciting his devious smile.
“ Are you ready?” he teases.
“I have to go.” I quicken out of the car, feeling wet and sticky as I hop into mine.
Kross waits for me to pull out of the lot before driving in the opposite direction. Something’s tugging on me to follow him, like an unseen thread woven between us. It requires a lot of willpower to fight it and continue home.
Jamir charges for my mouth the instant I let him into the apartment, kissing me hungrily. “I’m sorry.”
“Mm…” He’s my boyfriend, yet I feel so uneasy.
“Let me make it up.” He squeezes my ass while licking the same spot on my neck that Kross touched earlier and had my pussy clenching.
“Wait.” I writhe away from Jamir.
He angles his head. “You’re still mad at me? I apologized, even though I had every right to feel a way about you being with that man. Look at it from my perspective, Davia. What if I was hanging out with another woman?”
“I get it, Jamir. I’m sorry.” Yet, I’m not sorry for having phone sex with Kross or yearning for more.
Afraid he’ll see the truth in my eyes, I move to the window and hug myself.
“Something else the matter?” He draws closer and holds me from behind. “Tell me.”
“It’s nothing.” I turn and wrap my arms around him, resting my head against his chest.
He breathes deeply, kisses my forehead, and holds me tighter. “I missed you while you were away. You miss me?”
“Yes.” My voice sounds weak. Honestly, the distance from him didn’t bother me.
“So show me,” he whispers, caressing my back.
The thought of having sex with him triggers apprehension. I can’t help but feel the opposite of excited. “Um, can we chill and watch a movie?” I ease back to look at him. “You know, we should try new things. Maybe jogging, riding bikes, comedy clubs.” Perhaps more time with him will bring back the desire.
He sighs. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling left behind. It’ll get better.” He doesn’t appear interested in anything I suggested.
“Hm.”
Smiling, he holds my hands. “I love you, Davia. You mean the world to me. I don’t want to lose you.”
A lump lodges in my throat, and it feels like a struggle to return the exact words. “You mean a lot to me too.” That’s all I can manage at the moment.
He captures my mouth again like a starved animal, kissing me hard while fondling my breasts through the t-shirt.
“I miss my pussy,” he growls, slipping his hand into my tights to rub my clit.
Don’t fuck him .
I fight Kross from my mind and try to focus on Jamir as he shoves a finger inside me. He’s the man I love. The one I want. Right?
“Wait,” I sputter and move back. “I’m not… I’m not in the mood.”
He screws up his face. “You on your period? I didn’t feel a tampon.”
“Jamir, I’m just not in the mood.”
“Fine.” Adjusting his bulge, he walks past me into the hallway. The bathroom sink comes on soon after as if he’s relieving himself.
With a frustrated groan, I drop onto the sofa and slump against the cushion. I’m having a serious case of conflict. Between guilt and desire, I don’t know which one I’m leaning more toward.