Chapter 17 #3
“We always need family, and Daddy will always be that.”
“You don’t have to pretend, Ma. I’m not a baby,” DJ said.
“I know you’re not, bud,” Lauren whispered, sighing. “Everything is going to be okay. You’ll see.”
Lauren sat in front of the fireplace, wine glass daintily propped in her hands, and she swirled the red Bordeaux to emote the notes before sipping.
Rather, gulping because she cleared half the glass before lowering it back to rest on top of her knee.
Shit was just stressful. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.
The conversation with DJ lingered in her subconscious, pulling at her gut, and she needed to talk to someone about it.
When the doorbell rang, she almost regretted making the call.
Surely, there was anyone else to confide in.
Certainly, Demi was the most logical choice, but she felt like DJ these days.
Demi had his hands full, and his focus pulled.
With his hands full, she knew DJ hadn’t expressed this same disdain to his father.
She wondered if this was what life would become.
Parenting alone and then crying silently about the heartbreaks her son wasn’t brave enough to share with Demi.
She made her way to the door, and the nigga who stood on the other side of it gave her chills. She should have been taking her ass to sleep. She had a huge event to oversee tomorrow, but instead she was playing a dangerous game in the midnight hour with this beautiful man.
“You came,” she said, surprised.
“You called,” he shot back.
“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have done that. The first of many regrets I’ll have by morning.”
“No regrets, Lo,” Nyair said. “I ain’t never left a woman with none of that, just memories.”
“What if maybe, just maybe, this time you don’t become a memory?” She asked. “What if you stay?”
“You make it real hard for me, Lo,” Nyair said. He was standing on her porch, feet at the tip of the threshold like he was debating on coming inside, like he couldn’t come inside without permission. Lauren recalled the vampire movies she would watch with DJ, and she reached for his tie.
“You’re welcome to come in, Ny,” she said.
Holy shit. Scratch that. The unholiest shit ever was about to take place, and Lauren felt the anticipation surging through her veins.
“Your son is here?” He asked.
“He’s asleep.”
“You can’t call me over here when he’s here, Lo,” Nyair said as he stood in front of her, forcing her back to the wall.
He stared down at her with so much wanting that she couldn’t match his stare.
His left hand cuffed her cheek, and then somehow, it was around her neck.
His other hand lifted her right arm, trapping it against the wall.
His lips were close enough to taste the mint on his breath, but the slightest distance kept them from kissing.
“Why?” She didn’t know if the question was in her head or if it lived in the air. She was lightheaded and so turned on that she squirmed under his touch.
“Because I can’t control how you’ll react to the pleasure I’m trying to bring you, Lo. I want to be respectful, but shit goes down how it goes down when I go there with a woman, and it ain’t PG-13,” he said.
“He’s a heavy sleeper,” she whispered.
“Nah, not heavy enough.”
Lauren wanted to scream because who did he think he was to predict her level of pleasure. It was so cocky. He was sure of himself and his ability to please.
GOD. I WANT TO FUCK THIS NIGGA.
Lauren was sure she had lost her mind. This wasn’t a regular man she was talking about.
His cloth complicated things. It made him seem like something she couldn’t have, shouldn’t crave, yet here she was, doing the unthinkable with one of God’s chosen.
The challenge of his resistance but knowing how badly he wanted to have her was foreplay all by itself.
This temptation was one she didn’t have the willpower to keep resisting.
“We’ll have to keep it light, for now,” he said, finally pressing his lips to hers.
Lauren melted. It felt so good to be dominated in a way that still made her feel safe.
She didn’t know how he could touch her like a lover with the limited time they had spent together.
His kisses were so deep that they made private places tremble with desire.
Her body was begging him for connection, for touch, her clit throbbing uncontrollably as the pulse between her thighs raced the one in her chest.
“You taste so good,” she moaned. He tasted like a man. Like deep chocolate and cinnamon, like too much of him would make her tummy ache. He was an instant new favorite flavor for Lauren.
Legs up, around his waist, she had no insecurities about how heavy she might be because this man was built like an athlete.
She could only imagine his stamina. She didn’t know if he tried to press into her the way he was doing or if dick just naturally found pussy, but she felt him and she wanted it.
BAD. More than she had ever wanted it in her life.
She just needed these clothes to go away; hell, she needed DJ’s little-ass to go away at this point, because the damage she imagined Nyair would do was irresistible.
His hands gripped her ass, finding the string of her thong and snapping it like a rubber band, delivering a tiny sting to her flesh.
“You trying to interrupt a nigga walk, Lo,” he said.
“Not interrupt; I just want to come too.” He pulled back, her answer surprising him.
“This is lust,” Nyair said, shaking his head.
She shook her head. She knew what lust felt like. “I think it might be more. What if it can be more, one day?”
“Do you want more? Or you want a dick that’ll make you forget the lame nigga who mishandled you?” Nyair asked.
“You can do that, can’t you?” She asked, rubbing the back of his head softly, her feather light touches felt like seduction. Like she was rubbing his better judgment right out of his mind. “Make me forget everybody that came before this moment? It’s that good?”
She saw him blush as he let a smile creep onto his face before licking his lips.
“It is, isn’t it?” She asked, enthralled.
“Lo, we’re in deep waters here, woman. You sure about this?”
She nodded and climbed from his arms. “If I’m gonna scream, my son won’t be the one we wake up. It’ll be the neighbors.”
She led him through the house and out the back door, flipping the light switch on her way out. The backyard was illuminated with bulbs that circled the pool and hot tub. It was so cold that the steam from the hot tub was visible in the air.
“You down?” She asked.
Nyair ran his finger along the strap of her negligee, and she covered his hand with hers, lowering it and freeing one arm. It slipped beneath her breast, exposing half her body as she freed the other side. She was freezing, but her blood ran hot as she removed his tie.
“It’s freezing out here, Lauren,” he said.
“The water is a hundred degrees,” she countered. “Trust me.”
He watched her unbutton his Fendi shirt, and then she unzipped him. He kicked off his designer shoes.
“It’s cold than a bitch, out here,” he called out.
Lauren reached for the brim of his boxer briefs and slid them down, lowering to her knees as she freed him.
Nyair’s attempt to cover his dick with one hand was futile.
It was spilling out everywhere as she stood and then stepped into the water.
It was instant relief to the cold. She waded in the shallow hot tub, looking up at a skeptical Nyair as he looked toward the neighbor’s house before he stepped inside.
Tattoos and biscotti-covered skin wrapped around this god of a man.
Nyair’s body was a work of art and an anomaly.
A Christian who defiled his temple with beautiful art.
He was a canvas for ink that had taken hours to complete.
He sat beside her, and they admired the freshly fallen snow around them.
“This surprisingly feels good as hell,” he said. “It’s about the whitest thing I’ve ever done, but no lie, it’s peaceful out here.”
“I fight the cold every night to come out here with my wine and relax.”
He pulled her into his lap, and the monster on his thigh made her grind against him before she could stop herself.
“You’ll have to go slow,” she whispered.
“That’s the plan.”
He took altar at her breasts, lowering his head and taking her pebbled nipples into his mouth, one at a time, paying them both equal attention.
The feeling of the cool air around them mixed with his skilled tongue made her nipples extra sensitive. It was a divine feeling that put an arch in her back.
“Hmm,” he moaned as she stroked the back of his head. “I’ma fuck the shit out of you, Lauren. I have a problem with sex. I don’t know how to have it in small doses, baby. Once you give it to me, I’ma need access all the time. Everywhere, Lo, every day, anytime.”
Her eyes widened in shock at his admission.
“It’s a real problem for me, Lo. That’s why I don’t date.
Why I’m not casual with it. When I’m with a woman I overindulge in pussy, in pleasuring her.
It ain’t even always about me. Sometimes I just want to eat it,” he slipped a hand to her spot.
“Sometimes I just want to feel the silk of my lady on my fingers while I drive the clit. Sometimes I want to pull over and get my dick wet in the middle of nowhere.”
“Like an addiction,” she whispered, intrigued.
“The fucking worst addiction, Lo,” he said. “I’ve never mastered moderation, and I haven’t met a woman that can keep up.” Lauren reached down and grabbed his dick before sliding down slowly onto him. Her mouth fell open at his size as she worked him down until she was at the base of him.
“Nyair,” Lauren gasped as she let him fill her. He was thick and long and intimidating. She held onto his neck as his fingers followed the beads of water down her toned back.
“Slow,” she moaned, teeth clenched tight and face bent as she worked her hips.