Sianni Mcwashington-Maddox
I finished cooking breakfast and carried the tray upstairs to Kyrie.
He had woken up grumpy as hell this morning after replaying everything the doctor said in his head.
The fact that he had to wear the sling and cast for a month was already pissing him off, but what really had him heated was Jamal being locked up.
Kyrie ain’t want him in jail; he wanted him for himself.
When I walked into the room, he was sitting in the middle of the bed with the TV on, looking like he was two seconds away from crashing out on somebody. I laughed under my breath, balancing the tray before walking over to him.
“Good morning, grumpy pants,” I teased.
“Wassup?” he said, his eyes still on the TV.
I paused halfway beside the bed and frowned dramatically. “Damn, that’s all I get?”
That finally made him look at me.
“My bad, baby.” He smirked slowly. “Big Daddy sorry.”
I rolled my eyes. “Boy.”
“Nawl, come here.” His eyes dragged over me more slowly this time.
The way he looked at me still did something to my stomach every single time.
“I got a lot on my mind,” he added, licking his lips before glancing back toward the TV.
“Yeah, a lot that you can’t change,” I replied, setting the tray across his lap. “Now, are you trying to eat or nawl?”
His eyes dropped to the food, and a low whistle left him. I had made lemon ricotta pancakes topped with strawberries, turkey sausage, cheesy eggs with spinach folded into them, and some honey butter biscuits on the side.
“Damn,” he muttered. “You out here spoiling Big Daddy.”
“There you go with this Big Daddy stuff again.” I laughed, shaking my head.
“Ma, you know you like that shit.” He smirked before his eyes dropped to my lips. “Especially after I put yo’ lil’ ass through the counter.”
My cheeks instantly warmed.
“Kyrie,” I warned, fighting a smile.
“What?” he laughed low. “You were the one testing me.”
I shook my head and sat beside him on the bed. “You're so damn annoying.”
“But you like me, though.” His hand slowly slid across my thigh before lightly squeezing it. “That’s the problem,”
I tried to stay focused while feeding him, but his eyes stayed on me the whole time, making me nervous on purpose.
“You keep staring at me like that, and you're not going to eat,” I said.
“I can’t help it,” he replied. “You look good as hell this morning.”
I sucked my teeth, trying not to smile too hard while handing him another bite.
“Whatever.”
“Nawl, I’m serious.” His voice dropped lower this time. “Come closer.”
I shifted beside him and instantly felt his arm wrap around my waist, pulling me tighter against him.
“You clingy.” I laughed.
“And?” He shrugged. “You're my wife.”
The way he said it so naturally still caught me off guard at times. Trying to get my mind off him before he started something else, I changed the subject.
“Alexia called me crying last night.”
His brows instantly lifted.” The fuck is she calling you for?”
“She said her and Marcus got into it, and he put her out or something.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. But we started going back and forth because I asked her if she was really my friend, and she said you changed me. After that, I snapped at her and hung up.”
Kyrie laughed and shook his head. “I told you that bitch was jealous of you, ma.”
“I know.” I sighed. “And I’m finally starting to see it. I noticed little stuff before, but I kept trying to ignore it because we've been friends for so long.”
That part honestly hurt more than I wanted to admit. I really loved Alexia like a sister. And now everything felt fake.
“I’m glad you're seeing it now,” Kyrie replied, rubbing his thumb against my side. “I just wish you had seen it sooner.”
“Me too.”
I looked down at the plate for a second, blinking hard before handing him another bite. Life had a funny way of showing you people weren’t who you thought they were.
As I kept feeding him, Kyrie and I fell back into our usual back-and-forth. One minute, we were arguing about something stupid; the next time, he was flirting, saying slick stuff under his breath just to see me blush.
This man was crazy as hell. But, somehow, I was getting used to his crazy ass.
Being with Kyrie was a learning experience all by itself. Every day with him taught me something new. How to loosen up, how to stop overthinking everything, and how to trust somebody without waiting for them to hurt me.
But at the same time, I was still adjusting to this new lifestyle. The cameras, the blogs. People constantly in my face, asking questions about him, about the shooting, about us. That shit was exhausting.
I missed being able to go somewhere without people recording me or trying to figure out my business. Half the time, I wanted to snap at somebody, but I kept stopping myself because I already knew anything I did would come back on Kyrie, too. And right now? The last thing he needed was more drama.
After I finished feeding him, I took the plate and the stuff downstairs, then washed them. I had already eaten before I went upstairs with Kyrie, so I didn’t need to eat anything else.
When I got into the room, Kyrie was looking at the sports channel, and they were talking about the upcoming football season. I didn’t know why this man was even torturing himself like that when he knew he couldn’t play.
“Why are you sitting here torturing yourself?” I asked, laughing.
“Who said I was torturing myself?” he asked, cutting his eyes over at me.
But I could see it instantly. The way his jaw tightened a little. The way his whole energy had changed from when I left him. He was in his head now, and I knew exactly where his mind had gone.
“Kyrie, I’m not dumb. You went from all happy and shit to now, you’re mad,” I replied.
“I’m not mad, ma.”
“Yes, you are, but I got something to change all of that.”
His eye slid over to me, and a smirk started pulling at the corner of his mouth before he even said a word.
“And what is that?” he asked, his voice dropping just enough to make my stomach flip.
“We’re going to find something else to look at on TV,” I said, grabbing the remote.
“Man, shawty.” He sucked his teeth. “I thought you were gonna say you were gonna give me some pussy.”
I sucked my teeth and shook my head. “Kyrie, really?”
“What? A nigga horny as fuck,” he replied, and the way he said it, casual, so unbothered, made heat creep up my neck.
I couldn’t with this man right now. Out of all the things he could think about, he was thinking about fucking.
“Boy, let’s look at a movie,” I said, shaking my head.
“I guess, but let me ask you something.” He said it slowly as he licked his lips. And I already knew where he was going.
“Okay, wassup?” I asked, pausing what I was doing on the TV and looking at him.
“Sit on my face.”
The words hung in the air between us. Heavy and charged.
“Kyrie!” I shouted.
“What?!” he asked with that damn smirk spreading wider.
“No.”
“And why not?”
“Because you know why. Your arm is messed up, and you don’t need to be doing all of that.” I shook my head. “Besides, I’m trying to have a bonding moment with you,” I added.
“Shawty, you act like we can’t bond with my face in yo’ pussy.” He smirked.
My breath caught. Just for a second. But he saw it. I knew he did because that smirk turned into something darker. Something that said he already knew he was winning.
“Kyrie.”
“What?”
“No.” I shook my head.
But even as I said it, I could feel the pull. The way my body was already responding just to the idea of it. The way my thighs pressed together without me even thinking about it.
“I guess,” he said, shrugging like it didn’t matter. But then his voice dropped again. “But it’s a shame how a nigga married and can’t even please his own damn wife.” He sucked his teeth. “I wish I could’ve gotten a hold of that pussy ass nigga before he went to jail.”
“Yeah, well, you can’t,” I replied.
“Who said I can’t?” he smirked.
“Kyrie.”
“What?”
“Squash it, and let the police continue to do their job. They got him locked up, and that’s where his ass needs to be.”
He nodded, then leaned his head back against the pillow and watched me. I could feel his eyes on me like a physical thing. Like he was already touching me without moving an inch.
“Aight, ma, I’ll drop it,” he said slowly. “But under one condition.”
I already knew what he was going to say, but I asked anyway.
“And what is that?” I cocked my eyebrow.
“You let me eat your pussy.”
“Kyrie!” I said his name again, but this time it came out breathier than I meant it to.
“What? You keep calling my name like that, and it’s making my dick harder.” He smirked, and his eyes moved down my body. Slowly, like he was already undressing me in his head.
“Why are you so damn nasty?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Because I gotta sit here and look at you,” he replied.
“What does looking at me have to do with anything?”
“Because it does.” His voice was lower and rougher now. “Now, are you going to let a nigga taste that shit or nawl?”
He licked his lips, and I swear to God, I felt it between my legs.
A part of me wanted to say no. Wanted to keep playing this game, but the other part of me, the part that had been thinking about him since the last time he had me pinned underneath him, that part was already giving in.
’Cause I’m not gonna lie, a bitch was a little horny. Especially after that lil’ fuck session he had put me through. That was all I had been thinking about lowkey. Fuck, I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me.
But I did know that the way he looked right now? The way his eyes had become focused on me, he knew he had me.
“Okay,” I said quietly. “But that’s all we’re doing, Kyrie. I’m not trying to overstimulate you.”
“Shawty, overstimulate me?” He laughed. “That shit ain’t gon’ happen. Now, come on, Big Daddy is waiting.”
I shook my head, but my hands were already moving. I climbed out the bed, and I could feel his eyes tracking every movement. The way I hooked my thumbs into my pants, the way I slid them down my hips, and the way I stepped out of them and my underwear.