Chapter 7 #2

I went back and forth, placing all the side dishes on the dining room table. Trek and my god baby bickered from the living room about how the tree should be decorated. I chuckled. They were too much. Deshoni kept them company while I made sure the table looked exactly how I pictured it in my mind.

They had free rein on how they wanted to decorate since I did all the cooking.

I was tired from the late shift I worked for my co-worker.

Luckily, I didn't have class, but Deshoni didn't sleep well last night, so I didn't either.

After this meal, though, I planned to get some sleep.

Anita Baker crooned throughout the house.

Trek had a nice oldies playlist going. I vibed as I adjusted the dishes, the napkins, and charger plates.

When everything looked good, I stepped back and eyed my handiwork. A big smile adorned my face because the table looked beautiful, with its fall decorations, centerpiece, and all the dishware. The tablecloth was my absolute favorite because I loved the falling-leaves design on a white background.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist. The smell of Trek's expensive cologne filled my nose. I don't know which smelled better — he or the food.

"You did a great job, beautiful. The table looks amazing," Trek commented, pulling me closer to his chest.

It always felt so good being in his arms. "Thank you, love. I hoped you'd like it."

"Well, I really do. Can we eat now? I'm hungry," Trek pleaded.

I laughed because he sounded as if I had purposely starved them. "Yes, we can eat. Can you get the boys?"

"I'm on it, captain." He scurried out of the room. I pulled up Deshoni's high chair. Minutes later, all my boys walked into the room.

I kissed my god baby's forehead. He was growing into a handsome young man. I kissed Deshoni's chubby cheeks when Trek placed him in his high chair.

We all grabbed hands and recited what we were thankful for. When it came to Trek, I blushed. He was such a hopeless romantic.

Trek cleared his throat. "I'm thankful that my son is here. Any chance I get to have him on the holidays, I appreciate it to the fullest."

Trek and Junior smiled at each other. I loved their bond so much.

"I'm also grateful to have my lil' patna' Deshoni here and my best friend. Thank you for turning my house into a home. It's been a long time coming, so I'm grateful for the opportunity," Trek added.

"You're welcome," I replied, trying to hide my smile.

Trek led us in a quick grace, and afterward, silence filled the room.

The only sounds heard were the music and the forks scraping plates.

My little baby went to town on his sweet potatoes, dressing, and macaroni mixture.

Deshoni played no games when it came to food.

I looked up at Trek and Junior going in for seconds and thirds.

They ate as if they had just been released from prison.

I chewed on a piece of tender turkey, trying my hardest not to laugh at them. "Boys, y'all can relax. There is plenty of food and enough for leftovers for tomorrow."

Trek swallowed. "You're right, but this food is so damn good, girl." He went back to his plate like a starved man.

I giggled and went back to my meal. Junior poured himself and Deshoni sparkling apple cider while Trek and I drank wine. His taste in wine never ceased to amaze me.

When we were done, we all sat back in our seats, stuffed as if we were the holiday bird. I had really put my foot in it. For Christmas dinner, I'd already decided to make all authentic Haitian courses. They loved it when I made Haitian cuisine.

"Alright, Junior, can you handle the cleanup while I take care of Deshoni?" I asked him.

"I got you, god mama," Junior replied before shoving a slice of sweet potato pie in his mouth.

"Thank you, baby." I picked up Deshoni and exited the room.

We stopped in the living room. I admired their handiwork. It was so beautiful, and I was in complete awe. This year's colors were pink, green, and white. Pink was my favorite color. A big and bright pink bow sat at the top of the tree as the tree topper.

There were large, sparkly pink ornaments on the tree, along with small green and white ornaments.

I really liked the white tinsel they had draped around the tree.

The tree was absolutely beautiful. There were a few gifts under the tree already, but Trek and I had plans to get the last of our shopping done after Turkey Day.

I left the living room with my eyes misty. Trek was such a lover boy. He'd done everything in his power to always make me feel seen, heard, and appreciated. I needed to thank him in some kind of way.

When I made it to my room, I ran a bath for Deshoni, then took out his pajamas. He played and splashed around in the water as always, while I sat on the toilet and thought about how this wasn't the first holiday I spent without Mook. We'd never spend the holidays together again.

It wasn't the love that I missed. It was more so the routine. My mom told me something the other day that sat with me. Comfort could kill you.

I stayed with Mook all that time because he was the one I was familiar with, but not the one I truly wanted. It was then I realized I forced myself to be with him because I was too chicken shit to tell my best friend how I felt about him.

Those days were over, though. If Trek could be open and vulnerable with me, I could do the same. I planned to give him my all. Trek deserved my love, honesty, and loyalty more than anybody else, and that's exactly what he'd get.

I washed Deshoni's little body good and dried him off. Afterward, I moisturized him and dressed him. He watched his favorite show on the big screen in our room while I showered and thoroughly cleaned my body. It felt so good to wash the food smells off me.

Once finished, I moisturized my body and dressed. While Deshoni's favorite show played on low, I rubbed his curly hair and read him a story. It was now eight o'clock and a little past his bedtime.

When his light snores reached my ears, I looked down. My baby was knocked out. I pushed him to the wall, pulled the cover up to his chest, and said a quick prayer over him.

It was now or never. I needed to show Trek just how much I desired him. He'd sacrificed so much time for us, and the way to a good man's heart was through his stomach, supporting him in every way possible, and never hesitating to put that pussy on him.

I pulled the new guardrail up on my side and exhaled. Now that Deshoni was safe and asleep, it was Mr. Nasty time. When I stepped into the hallway, the house was dim.

Trek and Junior had retreated to their own rooms because I could hear Junior going crazy on the game while he played live with his friends. My body slightly shook. I was nervous.

I knew he'd never deny me. Trek wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Still, I was worried that once we crossed that line, we'd become much more than friends. At the end of the day, I wanted him as a lover just as much as a friend.

My slow footsteps felt like lead, but I refused to walk away. I released another breath of air and twisted the knob of his door. Trek's muscular back was to me.

His TV was on, but it was playing at a low volume. He was shirtless, and his big blanket stopped at his waist. The smell of his favorite body wash still lingered in the air. Trek's durag was in place per usual. The time was here.

I slipped out of my oversized tee and slid right behind him.

Trek moved slightly when he felt my body against his.

He was so warm and smelled so damn good that I kissed up his collarbone and up to his neck.

Trek shivered at my touch. I couldn't believe I had this big man yearning for more of me.

My hands caressed every inch of his tattooed skin and toned body.

I'd dreamed of this moment, and there was no going back.

Trek gripped my hand when it sailed down his six-pack and grabbed a handful of his thick and long dick.

"Travel, are you sure?" he queried, still facing the opposite way. His voice trembled, as if he strained to speak.

"I'm more than sure."

"Tell me what I wanna hear then."

"Trek, I wanna play with you."

"Let's play." He rolled over and scooped me into his arms. Before I knew it, I was over his shoulder and walking through a secret door in his closet.

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