Sianni McWashington-Maddox #2
“You still going out?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes locked on mine.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice still a little breathless.
He nodded slowly, but I could see the shift in his expression—the possessive edge creeping back in.
“Aight,” he said simply. “But you better text me when you get there.”
“Kyrie—”
“I'm serious, Sianni.”
I sighed, but I didn't argue. “Fine.”
He kissed my forehead before stepping back slightly, letting the water rinse over both of us one more time.
“Good,” he murmured. “Now hurry up before I change my mind about letting you leave.”
I shook my head, but I was already reaching for my towel.
Because knowing Kyrie? He wasn't playing.
As I walked into the room and started getting dressed, I could feel Kyrie staring at me the entire time. From the corner of my eye, I saw him sitting on the bed completely naked. And judging by the way his dick was standing straight up, he clearly still wasn’t done with me yet.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I asked, trying to ignore him as I slipped into my outfit.
“’Cause you’re fine as hell,” he instantly replied, like the answer should’ve been obvious.
I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile while fixing the straps on my romper. The glossy black material hugged my body perfectly, with a deep neckline and a small front cutout connected by a thin strap. The fitted shorts clung tight around my hips and thighs without doing too much.
The whole time I got dressed, Kyrie’s eyes stayed glued to me like he was trying to memorize every inch of my body.
And honestly? The way that man stared at me sometimes made my stomach do little flips that I hated admitting to.
After I finished getting dressed, I leaned over and kissed Kyrie on the lips before grabbing my clutch and heading toward the door.
Of course, before I could even make it downstairs, my phone buzzed.
Kyrie: Text me when you make it there.
I smiled to myself before shaking my head. That man was overprotective as hell.
When I stepped outside and saw the big, black truck in the driveway, I let out a long sigh.
I still wasn’t used to all this extra security shit Kyrie kept trying to put around me. The truck, the driver, the constant checking in—it all felt like too much sometimes. But after the conversation we had earlier, I already knew arguing with him about it wasn’t going to change anything.
Once I got inside, I told the driver where we were headed before he pulled away from the mansion.
During the ride, I texted Drayla to let her know I was on the way and that I’d meet her there. She texted right back saying aight and told me she’d be outside waiting when I got there.
After sliding my phone back into my clutch, I leaned my head against the seat and looked out the window.
Honestly, I was just hoping tonight stayed drama free.
I didn’t feel like dealing with people staring at me because of Kyrie or trying to be all in my face because they recognized me as his wife. I just wanted a couple of drinks, good music, and a night where I didn’t have to think too hard. That was it.
When we finally pulled up to the club, the driver hurried around to open my door for me.
“Just text me whenever you ready to leave, ma’am,” he said.
“Okay,” I replied before saving his number.
As soon as I turned around, I spotted Drayla standing beside her car, waiting for me. She looked good, too.
“Damn, bitch,” she said the second I walked over. “Kyrie let you leave the house looking like that?” Her eyes slowly traveled over my outfit.
I laughed. “Yeah, but the way he was looking at me before I left? Baby… that man was ready to bend me over again.”
“What the hell?” Drayla burst out laughing.
“Girl, yes,” I said, laughing with her. “That man is crazy.”
“I knew his ass was a freak.”
I shook my head, still laughing, before changing the subject. “You ready to go?”
One thing I never had to worry about was Drayla crossing lines with Kyrie. She never looked at him like that, and I appreciated it more than she probably realized.
When we walked up to the entrance, the bouncer took one look at us before opening the VIP entrance without saying a word.
The second we stepped inside, reggae music filled the club.
Drayla instantly started swaying her hips to the beat while we made our way toward the bar together.
The second we made it to the bar, Drayla ordered us both drinks while I leaned against the counter, letting myself finally relax a little.
The club was packed but not packed enough that I couldn’t move around without folks bumping into me every five seconds. Between the reggae music playing and the drinks finally hitting my system, I could already feel myself loosening up.
“See?” Drayla smirked while grabbing her drink from the bartender. “You needed this.”
“I know,” I admitted before taking a sip. “I swear I feel like I been trapped in that house for a month.”
“That’s because your man got you on house arrest.”
I rolled my eyes. “Girl, yes.”
“And the crazy part is… you lowkey like it.”
“Shut up.” I laughed before taking another sip.
Drayla started laughing too, then grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the dance floor once another reggae song came on.
At first, I tried to act like I wasn’t getting into it, but after a couple more drinks, I finally stopped caring.
The music was loud, people were dancing, and for the first time in a while, my mind wasn’t all over the place.
Until my phone buzzed in my hand.
I already knew who it was before even looking.
Kyrie: You made it?
A small smile instantly pulled at my lips.
Me: Yes daddy.
Not even ten seconds later, another text came through.
Kyrie: Watch that mouth before I come drag you out that club myself.
I laughed softly under my breath.
Kyrie: What you drinking?
I snapped a quick picture of the colorful drink in my hand before sending it to him.
A few seconds later, my phone buzzed again.
Kyrie: Yeah aight.
Kyrie: Don’t let nobody be all in your face either.
Me: Boy please.
Kyrie: I’m serious.
Kyrie: And if a nigga looking too hard, tell him you married to a nigga that’ll beat his ass.
That made me laugh harder.
“Let me guess,” Drayla said while looking over at me. “Kyrie?”
“Girl, yes.”
“That man be stressing himself out over you.”
Before I could respond, I noticed two girls standing near the bar whispering while looking over at me.
At first, I ignored it.
But then one of them pulled her phone out.
My stomach tightened a little.
See… this was exactly the type of shit I didn’t like.
I suddenly understood why Kyrie stayed so paranoid about me being out by myself.
A few minutes later, the bartender suddenly walked over toward us, carrying another round of drinks.
Drayla frowned. “We didn’t order those.”
“They were already paid for,” the bartender replied before setting them in front of us. “Courtesy of the gentleman over there.”
Both Drayla and I turned around immediately.
Nobody was there.
“What the hell?” Drayla muttered.
Confused, I slowly looked back toward the drinks before finally noticing the folded napkin underneath one of the glasses.
And the second I opened it, my whole mood shifted.
You can’t keep him forever.
I immediately started looking around the club, trying to figure out who the hell sent the note, but all I saw was people dancing, drinking, and minding their own business.
Still… something about that message felt familiar.
Too familiar. Honestly? It sounded exactly like some shit Marissa would say.
My jaw tightened instantly.
Cause if that bitch was somewhere in this club playing games with me, I was gon’ beat her ass all over again.
“Si, sis… you good?” Drayla asked, looking at me like I was crazy.
“Nawl.” I shook my head before handing her the note. “Somebody sent me this weird-ass shit, and from the sound of it, it feels like Marissa’s messy ass.”
“What the fuck?”
Drayla snatched the napkin out of my hand before reading it herself.
“Man, I’m sick of this hoe,” she muttered after a second.