CHAPTER TEN #6
"Probably." Sosa didn't look concerned. "But he'll get over it.
'Cause he know me. He know I ain't on no bullshit, and he know I'll treat you right.
He know I got money, I got my shit together, I ain't about to have you out here struggling or doing dumb shit.
Once he see I'm serious about you, that I really want you and not just trying to fuck, he'll fall back. Might take a minute, but he’ll eventually come around. "
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then we'll deal with it. we might have to scrap it out, let him get his shit off his chest. But like I said, ain’t shit changing."
I wanted to argue, to tell him he couldn't just take over like this, making decisions about how to handle my brother. But there was something about the way he said it, the confidence and certainty in his voice, that made me feel... safe.
"Okay," I whispered.
"Okay?" He sounded surprised.
"Yeah. Okay." I laid my head back on his chest. "You can tell him."
"That's my girl." He kissed the top of my head.
"He's probably gon try to shoot you."
"He can try.” He chuckled. "it won't be the first time a nigga tried it, and it won't be the last. But I ain't worried about it."
"I’m so fucking serious."
"Shidddd so am I." His arms tightened around me. "But like I said, I ain't worried about that shit.” I closed my eyes, feeling exhaustion wash over me.
"This is crazy."
"It is, but sometimes the best ideas is some crazy shit. Shid sometimes you just gotta say fuck it and go after what you want."
"You just gon’ decide we're together and that's it? So I have no say so in this shit huh?"
"Yup, and you let me." His voice was softer now, tender. "You could've said no at any point tonight. You could've told me to take you home, pushed me away, fought me on this. But you didn't. 'Cause you want this too. You want me just as much as I want you."
He was right again. I did want him just as much as he wanted me. I also felt like this shit was moving way too fast, I just hoped like I hell I didn’t end up regretting it.
* * *
I woke up to the sunlight cutting through them big ass floor-to-ceiling windows and the smell of food hitting my nose. For a second, I ain't know where the fuck I was, but my pussy quickly reminded me. My kitty was still throbbing from the way Sosa had beat it up last night.
I sat up slow, feeling every inch of what he did to me, and looked around.
His side of the bed was still warm but empty.
I could hear Lil Durk playing from somewhere in this big ass house, and my phone was buzzing on the nightstand.
I had four missed calls from Mr. Clyde, and twelve missed calls from Yatta.
My dress from last night was hanging on some expensive looking chair, but there was a black t-shirt and some basketball shorts laid out on the bed.
I grabbed the t-shirt and pulled it on. It hugged my curves, stretching across my chest and hips.
The shorts fit too, sitting right on my thick thighs.
I looked down at myself, his clothes fit me damn near perfect, which made sense since I wasn't a slim chick.
I had hips, ass, a little stomach, thick thighs, the whole package.
I walked down the hallway barefoot on the hardwood floors, as the smell of food got stronger, and I heard his sexy ass voice before I saw him. He was talking to someone on the phone.
"Nah, I told you handle that shit... I don't give a fuck what he said, make sure my traps running smooth or it's your ass... Aight, bet."
I stopped at the kitchen entrance. He was at the stove, shirtless in grey Nike sweats that hung low on his hips, phone tucked between his ear and shoulder while he cooked.
His whole back was tatted. He had money symbols, scripture, names of niggas who probably weren’t here no more.
His muscles moved under his skin and I could see his gun tucked in his waistband, he had it on him even while he was cooking breakfast.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll slide through later. Let me eat first... Nah, I'm good. I got company." He glanced back and caught me staring, then smiled. that dangerous ass smile that made my stomach flip.
"Aight, Hit me up lata fool,” he ended the call and tossed his phone on the counter.
"What’s up, you just gon' stand there watching a nigga or you gon' come get fed?"
"I was just…"
"Come here, Yah."
The way he said my name, all commanding and shit, made me move without thinking.
I walked into the kitchen and he turned fully, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed.
His eyes dragged down my body slow, taking in how his shirt stretched across my titties and how his shorts hugged my hips and ass.
"Damn," he said, licking his lips. "My shit fit you perfect. Look good as fuck on all them curves."
"That right?" I tried to sound casual but my heart was pounding.
"Yeah." He pushed off the counter and walked up on me, backing me up until I hit the kitchen island. He caged me in with his arms on either side of me, dipping his head down so we was face to face. His hands gripped my hips.
"You sleep good?"
"Yeah."
"Good. That pussy still sore?"
My face got hot. "Sosa—"
"Answer me."
"...Yeah."
"Good." He kissed me, deep and slow. When he pulled back, his eyes were darker. "That means you gon' remember who you belong to now."
He turned back to the stove like he ain't just say some crazy possessive shit and started plating up food. I sat my ass down on one of the bar stools, trying to collect myself. My phone buzzed again.
Yatta.
Sosa set a plate in front of me, it had eggs scrambled with cheese, turkey bacon crispy as hell, grits with butter melting on top, and toast.
"You a cooking ass nigga too huh?" I asked, picking up the fork.
He laughed, sitting down next to me with his own plate and a glass of orange juice.
"Man, what you think? I ain't always have money like this. I learned to do for myself a long time ago." He dug into his food, then looked at me.
"Eat, ma. I ain't poison it." I took a bite of the eggs and damn near moaned.
"This good as hell."
"I know." He smirked, cocky as fuck. He watched me eat for a minute, then his expression shifted—still relaxed but more serious.
"So what's your situation, Yah? Real talk."
"My situation?"
"Yeah. Like what you got going on?”
"I thought we discussed this shit last night, I don’t think I need to go into detail about it anymore.”
"That’s where you wrong at, you do, I’m trying to figure out what I need to shut down." His voice was calm but firm. "So how many?"
"Three, including Mr. Clyde. But they all know what it is, it's strictly business." He nodded slowly, processing what I confessed too.
"And you living where? With who?"
"After my parents died, Me, Yatta and Mya were able to keep the house. We all stay together.”
"I'm sorry about your parents, ma."
"It's cool. It's been a minute." I shrugged, "We good though. The house is paid off at least, so we just gotta cover utilities, property taxes, food and shit." He nodded.
"And what about the nigga who had you fucked up in the head?”
My whole body went stiff.
"What about him?"
"You still hurt over that nigga?" he questioned. I shrugged, trying to play it off.
"I'm good."
"Yasani,"
"What?"
"Don't lie to me." He reached over and turned my stool so I was facing him fully. "Be honest, you still hurt?"
I bit my lip, feeling tears trying to come up. I blinked them back. "Yeah. I'm still fucked up about it. Not because I want him back, because honestly fuck him. But it’s more so because I trusted him. And he handled me like I was some regular bitch, and that I can’t ever forgive him for.
"He a bitch ass nigga for that shit he pulled." I said,
"Facts."
"But I need you to understand something when fucking with me, I ain't him. I ain't on that playing games shit. When I say I want you, I mean that. When I say I'ma hold you down, that's what the fuck I mean. I don't move like these clown ass niggas out here."
"How you move then?"
“I’m loyal and I’m a man of my word." His hands slid higher on my thighs. "But I need the same energy back. That's why I'm asking about what you feeling for that nigga, I need to know what I'm dealing with. Because if you gon' be mine, you gotta really be mine."
"Let’s be honest, you demanding some shit from me, but I barely know you."
"You know enough. You know I got money. You know I got power. You know I want you." He leaned in closer. "And you know after last night that I can give you everything you need. financially, physically, emotionally, all of it. So what's the issue? You don't trust me?"
"I don't trust nobody," I shot back. "Last time I trusted a nigga, he fucked my best friend."
"Didn’t I just tell you I ain't that nigga,"
"I know you ain't. You worse."
He raised an eyebrow. "Worse?"
"Yeah, worse. Rylo was just a regular street nigga. You a whole kingpin, with the world at your feet. You questioning me, but how many bitches do you got on standby? Are you single? How many are you fucking?” I shot off question after question.
“I aint got nobody, maybe some bitches I crack every once in a while but it aint nobody I’m bringing to meet my mama. I was a single man baby, until last night.” He said and I smirked.
“Was? Like I said, we barely know each other, so don’t feel no type of way, if I’m not as open as you would like me to be.” I told him and he cupped my face.
"All I know is you deserve better than what you been settling for. So I'm offering you better. Question is, you gon' take it?"
I looked into his eyes, searching for the lie, the game, the catch. But all I saw was certainty. I could tell he meant every word. And yea, a bitch was finally ready for better.