Novah Kilgore
“You one sexy ass muhfucka, Novah,” Basheer complimented as he came up for air. He had just finished giving me the best head I’d ever received in my life.
My body shivered from the orgasmic high I was coming down from. “Thank you, Bash Baby. You know you’re handsome as fuck too.”
Basheer and I had been rocking for two and a half years, and he had never disappointed me. Crazy to think I almost let his sexy, chocolate, six-foot, solid body having ass slip through the cracks. Now a bitch was in love and never letting go of this one.
I’ll forever remember the day we met. I can’t lie; I was a bit of a groupie bitch.
My girls and I spent our time at events where we knew the ballers would be.
My friend Tyesha had connections to all the industry get-money niggas, thanks to her mama and daddy.
Tyesha’s mother, Mrs. Kitts, was just like us in her younger days until she got wifed up by Tyesha’s father after they met at a networking event.
She always made sure the men she opened her legs for had multiple commas in their bank accounts, and she taught her daughter the game.
When I came around, and Tyesha and I got close, Mrs. Kitts showed me the way too.
My own mother, Mina, only dealt with men who couldn’t do anything for her, themselves, or me.
I made a promise to myself that I would never follow in her footsteps as long as I had breath in my body.
That’s why it was easy for me to latch onto Tyesha’s mother when I met her.
And don’t get me started on my daddy. He was in and out of my life.
When he wasn’t around, he was too busy chasing everything except what mattered.
My father, Sylvester, should’ve been the last nigga on this earth to become a parent.
He and Tyesha’s father were night and day if I had to compare the two.
Mr. Kitts owned a production company. Even though he wasn’t on the scene much anymore, he still had a solid reputation.
Because he was Tyesha’s father, she got invited to all the parties, events, and shows, and she dragged me along every time.
I always made sure I showed up looking and smelling good as usual.
I wasn’t the smallest woman, but I wasn’t the biggest either.
My breasts were an average C cup. I had a few extra pounds around my midsection, but I made up for it in my hips and ass.
My imperfections, as some would call them, weren’t stopping nothing.
I still pulled niggas from every tax bracket.
They couldn’t get enough of my almond-toned skin, full lips, and my Colgate smile, thanks to my top-notch veneers.
My stylish pixie cut that stayed laid to perfection was another winner in their eyes.
I had enough confidence for every woman in this world.
The only person who ever made me slightly question myself was Mr. Reason St. Pierre.
When Tyesha told me we were going to a party he was hosting, I jumped my tired ass out of bed and got dressed immediately.
All the groupies knew Reason was the biggest catch of them all, but the only thing was, he wasn’t a friendly ass nigga.
I just knew, out of all the women who had the same plan as me, I’d be the one to hook Reason and eventually make him leave his bitch ass wife, Saje. But that night, he proved me and hundreds of others wrong. He only wanted his soap opera star wife.
To this day, I still believe that if Saje wasn’t all up under him, Reason would’ve noticed my fine ass.
But he never spoke to me, never looked my way, or gave me even the slightest hint that he was interested.
Saje had his full attention the entire night, and we were all envious of what she had.
She was living the role all of us were dying to be in.
Me being me, I didn’t let Reason’s lack of attention hold me back. I studied who was with him, who he spoke to, and who he seemed comfortable around. Besides his attention-seeking wife, Basheer was the only other person he let get close.
So that’s where my focus shifted, to Basheer Buchanan.
After spotting him, I went straight to Tyesha and had her call her father to find out everything she could about him. Not that it really mattered, but I found out he wasn’t married, so he wouldn’t be on that same simp shit Reason was on.
I sashayed my ass around their section, moving to the music, not caring that I was the only one on the dance floor.
I ignored all the eye-rolling Saje was doing as I danced my way closer to them.
I swear the bitch was mad that my sexy moves were pulling the attention she thought was only reserved for her.
Either way, if I couldn’t pull her husband, I’d go after the next best thing. His right-hand man.
It didn’t take Basheer long to ease his way into my space, and he hasn’t gone anywhere since.
Things were getting stronger between us, and I had a strong feeling he would make me his wife soon.
I was now in my early thirties and ready to start a family.
Tyesha had even lucked up and was engaged to a millionaire, as did a few other women who were a part of our groupie clique.
That was always our goal, to snatch up a rich man, and I’d given Basheer more than enough time to make me his wife.
At first, he had his guard up, and he was always cautious about what he told me.
He didn’t bring me around his family or friends much, but that was cool because he didn’t have many people he was close to.
Now, he was more open about his life. He spent more time and money on me, and he let me start keeping more of my things at his house. We couldn’t be in a better place.
I was in love with my man, and he was in love with me too.
I bet if Basheer could live in my skin, he would.
Lately, he’d been moving around like a man who was on a mission.
I met up with my girls, and they all believed that he was planning to propose.
The thought of him proposing was heavy on my mind because I hated surprises.
Especially if that was what he was up to, I wanted to make sure my hair and nails were freshly done for the photoshoot I knew would follow.
Basheer knew how badly I wanted to become a wife, and he would smile when the subject came up and say, “I got you, mami.”
In the meantime, my plan was to snoop around, hoping I would overhear him telling someone when and where he planned to propose, so I could book my glam appointments and have my outfit on deck.
I couldn’t wait to be part of the wives’ club and be able to flaunt the big ass ring I knew Basheer would have glistening on my finger.
Basheer moving around on the bed brought my focus back.
“Beautiful, what are you doing this weekend?” He got off the bed with his dick swinging side to side. I tried my hardest to keep my focus above his torso.
“Uh…”
“Whatever you have planned for this weekend, cancel it,” he interrupted, cutting me off.
OMG. Is this it? Is he planning to propose this weekend?
“Why? What’s up?” I asked, trying to play it off like my heart wasn’t beating a mile a minute.
“We’re going to Reason and Saje’s gender reveal.”
Reason and Saje’s gender reveal? I repeated in my head. That was the last thing I expected to hear. Maybe this was part of his plan, saying we’re going to a gender reveal, but it’s really a surprise proposal.
Oh, shit. It’s really happening.
I kept it cool. “What? Saje’s pregnant?”
I watched her soap opera faithfully, and I didn’t remember them making her character pregnant or even filming her at angles that could hide a pregnancy.
Her conceited ass was a good actress, but the only reason I watched was to figure out how she managed to pull a man like Reason.
She was pretty, but in my eyes, looks were all she had to offer.
“No, Novah, she ain’t pregnant,” Basheer replied, leaving me even more confused.
I sat up, waiting for him to elaborate, but we ended up in a staring contest.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m waiting for you to explain. You just said Saje ain’t pregnant, and I ain’t seen her pregnant on the show. So, what kind of gender reveal are they having?”
“You be obsessing over Saje. I just noticed that shit.”
“What are you talking about? Obsessed over that stuck-up woman? Please.”
“Then stop acting like it. You talk shit about her but stay watching every episode she’s in.”
I glared at Basheer, annoyed that I hadn’t hidden my disdain better, and even more annoyed that he was calling me out.
Thinking quickly, I said, “I don’t watch Sins of Miami because of Saje. I’ve been watching since before she even appeared on there.” I would say anything to defend myself. I wasn’t about to mess up my chances of becoming Mrs. Buchanan.
“The choice is yours. I extended the invite. It’s up to you if you want to be my plus one or not.”
“Yes, I’ll be your plus one.” The words rushed out, then I softened my tone. I wasn’t about to argue over Saje of all people.
This just confirmed it for me. Basheer had to be planning something. I was more convinced than ever that he was setting up an unforgettable night. The excitement washed away every negative feeling I had.
“Coo. I’ll let you know what time you gotta be ready.”
“Okay. What do you want me to wear, baby?”
“Just wear something nice, beautiful.”
I smiled from ear to ear.
As soon as Basheer left the room, I grabbed my phone and started booking my hair, nails, and makeup appointments. I texted Tyesha and Mrs. Kitts that we needed an emergency meeting. They were basically my personal stylists.
While I was in the middle of booking appointments and making calls, Basheer’s phone rang loud enough for me to hear it from his bedroom. I listened as he rushed to silence it.
“Hello,” he said before the door shut to his man cave.
I tossed my phone on the bed and quietly slipped away, walking on my tiptoes toward his man cave.
Usually, I wasn’t one to eavesdrop on my man. Ever.
But this time? I needed confirmation.
I pressed my ear against the door, squinting like that would somehow help me hear better.
I heard Basheer chuckle before turning the TV on.
Shit.
I leaned closer, trying to tune out the noise. A few seconds later, I caught his voice through the commercials. It was low, but clear enough.
What he said next made me gasp. What in the entire fuck?! I slapped my hand over my mouth.
Silence.
Then his footsteps came fast, straight toward the door.
I jumped back, barely making it away in time.