9. Real
This girl thought she was so damn smart. She didn't like me messing with her list of "things not to do," so she wanted me to fall right back into her "pre-approved activities" category, even if that meant letting me fuck her raw. I had every intention of spreading those tight ass walls again, but not until I shook some more shit up.
I had watched her as she slept in my arms, just let myself enjoy the feel and the sight of her. She felt so damn good, like she belonged there, cuddled next to me. I had to admit to myself that I liked it. And in admitting that I wanted more of it, I allowed myself to think the truth about something else, a truth I’d been avoiding even as I pushed against her rules the last few months. Despite how we had begun, I had caught feelings for her. All the late-night talks, the meals she made for me, the affirmations she spoke to me, the best sex of my life—all of it had me wanting more than hidden evenings with her. Things had changed. Her rules would have to, as well.
"Wh-what do you mean, setting things straight?" she asked carefully, breaking my reverie.
"About our day. Stop panicking, scary ass girl."
And just to fuck with her, I kissed another freckle. She wrinkled her nose, and the shit was adorable.
"I don’t panic, Real. But… ‘our day?'"
The way she said it—cold and reluctant, like I was about to suggest we spend the day in jail or something—could've pissed me off. I was used to women tripping over themselves to spend time with me, be seen with me. But this girl... as long as I fucked and financed her, she was good on me. For some reason, that intrigued me instead of angering me. Hell, everything about her intrigued me, if I were honest. Usually I would walk away, but with her… With her, I was determined to change her mind.
"Yeah. 'Our day.' I'ma let you have this dick since you want it so bad. Then, since it's 'bout five o'clock in the damn morning and I know you don't work weekends, we goin' back to sleep. We gon' wake up, shower, I'ma feed you, and you gon' ride wit' me on a couple of errands. ‘Our day.’"
At this point, her eyes were wide as fuck and her mouth was open. I dropped a kiss at the corner of her lips, before pushing my dick against her center. Damn, she was already wet for me.
"Okay?"
She was quiet for another moment before she started shaking her head hard as hell.
"Not okay. Not! We can't... we don't..."
"I'on wanna hear that, love," I murmured against her ear, moving my hips slowly, teasing her. "We can do whatever we want."
I nipped her earlobe before nibbling on the spot right behind it, smiling as she breathed sharply. Her hands slid around me, her nails already softly scraping my back.
"Real, I can't. I have... I have?—”
Frowning, I pulled back enough to look down at her.
"Don't fucking lie to me, Ev. You wanna piss me off, that's the fastest way to do it."
She opened her mouth to argue, then nodded. Sighing, she shifted her hands until they were between us, pressing against me, but I wasn't going anywhere.
"Fine. I don't have plans. But I don't make them with you, either. I like what we have, Real. We don't need to start doing that type of shit," she said.
Her voice was cool, but she was agitated as hell. I chuckled before responding.
"What kind of shit?"
It took her a while to answer. When she did, she wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Relationship shit. That's not what we... that's not what I want."
This time, her words pissed me off. Almost fifteen months of this and we couldn't spend a few hours outside? I didn't understand the big deal. My fingers circled her throat as I scowled at her.
"So, I can cum in your mouth, but I can't put food in it?" I taunted.
She blushed, her body tensing beneath me.
"Don't be crude, Real," she snapped.
"Then don't make me be. How about this: make me understand why it's okay for Marlon to feed you but not me. I thought you didn’t date, Ev?”
Damn! I sounded jealous as fuck. I had to squash that real quick. But seeing her with him had put me on edge. I had to approach that table and it took everything in me not to yank her ass up and kiss her right there, letting them know that she was…
Hell, I didn’t know what she was. But she wasn’t free to be with Marlon.
“It wasn’t a d—” she started to protest, but I interrupted.
“You acting like I’m tryna wife you. Shit I listed was simple. You gotta overthink and put them damn rules on everything—" I slid the bend of my elbow under her knee, lifting it and opening her up to me. "You making shit more complicated than it is."
I damn near spat the words as I started to ease into the tight heat of her body. She moaned, and I almost did, too, at the exquisite, bare feel of her. Wet, hot, and with a grip like a vise, her pussy could make an atheist speak in tongues. I knew fucking this pussy, wrapped around my dick with nothing between us, would feel good. But I didn't know it'd be this damn good. This girl was gon' kill me.
"Real," she drew my name out with a sigh. "You should take one of your public girls to do all that."
I froze mid-stroke. "The fuck does that mean, Ev?"
She looked at me defiantly.
"It means just what I said."
Nah, that wasn't working for me. I wanted her to explain. The fuck was a public girl? What did that make her, a private one? Yeah, I didn't want to share her, but I didn't mean like that. And in the last several months, there hadn’t been a “public girl” or any other damn girl. She was the only one that I even thought about?—
"I'll go, okay?" she said suddenly, her thick hips starting a slow, rolling wind as she stared up at me. "Just... I'll go."
She was hiding again, avoiding my question. She did that a lot, kept parts of herself quiet and locked away. I hated that shit. I wanted— needed —to know everything about her, wanted her open to me in ways that never even mattered with another woman. But I wasn't ready to think too much about that, so I kissed her, my strokes picking up pace between her soft thighs.
I broke away long enough to cup her face and direct her gaze to mine.
"It was never optional, love."
* * *
My pretty little thickums didn't know what to do with herself. I had her all off her square and I loved the shit. I'd held her as she slept again, refusing to give her the space she'd tried to put between us. When I joined her in the shower, she almost died—she wasn’t ashamed of her body, but she only showered alone. And when I knelt and pulled her plush leg over my shoulder and pushed my face into her center, I'm pretty sure she did pass on for a minute.
She climbed into my car after we dressed—Moms had always taught us to carry an emergency overnight bag and I was grateful. She was quiet, her hand clutching her purse so tightly, I thought she was going to break a nail. And if she thought she was tense now... I looked over at her and smiled.
"What?" she asked after a few seconds, her gaze still straight out the windshield.
"Relax, girl. You in good hands."
She pursed her lips, but she released that chokehold on her bag. Her anxiety was not surprising. I’d known since the first night I met her that she had no intention of us spending nights together. I hadn’t had an issue with it, at first. Hell, I’d appreciated it. But spending time with her over the last year and some change left me feeling like I didn’t want to leave her plenty of nights. Still, I’d been patient, hadn’t pressed the issue before.
My patience had run out.