Chapter 2
Honor Gravehart
Using a warm washcloth, I cleaned between Navy's legs while covering her bikini line with kisses. I preferred using my mouth to clean Navy, but head after nutting in her was too freaky for a nigga like me. I settled for kisses because they satisfied my need to feel her skin against my lips.
"Keep kissing, and I'm never gonna be cleaned."
"Shut yo' ass up. You're just worried I'ma decorate down here like I did your neck," I chuckled, planting one last kiss on her pearl.
"I really should fuck you up for doing that. You know how sensitive my skin is."
"Yeah, but I always mark you up. That shit ain't nothing new." I shrugged, not giving a fuck either way. Nothing was sexier to me than seeing Navy's naked body marked by my mouth.
From the day she saved my life, or rather, I saved hers, a desire was born.
We were too young for it to be more than a need to keep her safe, but the feeling planted roots in the darkest corners of my soul.
As we got older, that need amplified. It wasn't only about keeping her safe or protecting her from the things that go bump in the night.
I wanted her in every muthafuckin' way a man could want a woman.
On my sixteenth birthday, Lucian arranged for me to move into Gravehart Homes. The owner, Mr. John, was indebted to him. The plan was for me to find my team there.
Fragile minds and broken spirits are the easiest to mold.
That was the lesson and the mission.
While Lucian was out, Navy snuck into my room to wish me a happy birthday.
She gave herself to me, and I returned the favor, giving her my last shred of innocence.
Navy wasn't an object, but she was the first thing I wanted to hold and never let go.
I didn't want to share her with anyone. She was the angel of my hell, a light that belonged to me alone.
I left my first mark on her inner thigh that night.
A reminder of what we shared and a warning that every inch of her, her body, her breath, her soul was mine.
"Normally, I don't mind, but I can't walk around with basically a bruise on my neck and shoulder. I'm supposed to go to the spa with Chosyn."
"What's the problem?"
"Honor." She giggled like I was joking when I was being serious as fuck. "Oh, you're forreal."
"When have I ever been one to joke about anything?"
"Never, but you can't be serious." Her brows arched as those lips of hers pursed together like she wanted a kiss. Leaning in, I gave her what she wanted.
"Honor! I'm being serious right now," she fussed, but hissed her words into my mouth, sucking on my tongue.
"Serious, my ass." I chuckled.
"It's not funny," she fussed and slipped out of bed. "I can't lie ass naked on a table with bruises on my fucking body!"
Even when mad, Navy's voice remained soft. My baby didn't have an angry bone in her body, and I loved that about her. Navy had the type of energy that was impossible to ignore. She was the grace I didn't deserve in this life or the next, and the blessing a nigga like me was too ashamed to ask for.
A life like mine didn't deserve that type of energy.
Shit, a nigga like me, scarred, selfish, and haunted by choices that couldn't be undone, wasn't meant to love something so pure.
Angels weren't created for the broken, and yet, here she was.
Moving around the bedroom, cursing me while I sat in awe of her.
Rubbing my jaw, I chuckled. She didn't even realize the hold she had on me.
I'd move mountains, steal stars from the sky, and decorate our room with 'em.
Anything she desired, I'd make hers and add extra 'cause my baby's value came with interest.
"Are you even listening to me?"
"I heard you, but what do you want me to do? The damage has already been done. If Chosyn asks what happened, tell her nosey ass to mind her business and not to come over here on that rah-rah shit. Wolfe might find that shit attractive, but I'll trip the fuck outta her mean ass."
"Honor, please!" Navy giggled. "See, that's how I know you weren't listening. I'm not worried about Chosyn per se. This spa trip is to celebrate River, and I don't want to take the attention off of her because you decided to suck on me like a fucking Blow Pop."
"Aye, say pause after you say some flagrant shit like that. I don't suck on shit like nothing."
"Grow up." Navy rolled her eyes, then mumbled, "pause."
"What's Four… I mean, River celebrating?"
"Oh, uh… um, a jo—"
"Finish that lie and those hickies gon' be the least of your worries," I warned, standing to my full height.
"I wasn't going to lie. Things are just iffy with you and—"
"Navy!" I barked, cutting her off.
"Fine! River and Crown are engaged, and she's pregnant."
"Cool." I nodded, brushing past her as I headed toward the bathroom.
"Cool? That's all you have to say?"
"I'm 'bout to take a shit and shower," I muttered, hoping she'd chill the fuck out.
"Honor, don't play with me. And you better not think about closing that door in my face."
"Navy, I'm not trying to talk to you about this," I groaned, dragging a hand down my face.
"Why? You talk to me about everything at any other time. So why can't we discuss your feelings about this?" she sassed, folding her arms.
"I don't fucking want to!" I snapped, my voice cracking louder than I meant it to.
Her brows shot up, her eyes expanding wide, and I knew right then I'd fucked up.
"Navy." I sighed, reaching out for her.
"Don't fucking touch me, Honor."
"Man, that's my bad. I just—" My voice broke off, and for the first time, I had no words for Navy. I couldn't bring myself to admit that finding out Crown was engaged and having a baby, from her and not him, split my fucking chest open.
"Who is she?" The question slipped out like a ghost. Navy asked it softly, almost fragile, but the ache of her tone fucked me up. "Is it Choyce? You can tell me if—"
I closed the space between us, silencing her before she had the chance to say more stupid shit.
My fingers caught her chin, pinching just enough to force her head up until her eyes locked with mine.
Her need to defy me trembled beneath my grip, but so did her love for me… a love that belonged to only me.
"I don't know what's been going on in that pretty head of yours lately but let me dead whatever it is.
There is no she unless we're talking about yourself.
You are the only she, her, woman, and Mrs. in my life, Navy.
I love you. Maybe I haven't shown it enough.
If that's the case, that's my bad, and I'ma fix it.
But hear me when I say this: that pussy between your legs is my nutrients, your heart is my fucking life source, and that pretty face of yours is my daily reminder that God still gives a fuck 'bout a nigga like me.
No bitch will ever take me away from you.
I'll die before I do life without you. I put that on everything. "
"I love you too," she cried, leaning her head against my chest.
"Don't cry, just believe what I say and less of what you hear from others 'cause I mean every word. I'll die before I do life without you."
Her lips met mine, and that was all I needed to know she took what I said for truth and not just words to pacify her.
With Navy, I felt undeserving. Being without her was the only thing I knew would bury me because loving her wasn't a choice.
It was the inhale to my exhale. That's how deep she ran in me.
"Wassup, Gigi. No jokes today?" I asked after walking through the apartment and dropping into a chair at the table.
I loved Gigi as if I had popped out of her womb, but there were just some habits I couldn't let die.
After witnessing Lucian and his men waltz into my mother's house as if they owned it, I made it my business to conduct a thorough search of any crib I stepped foot in.
Most times, it rubbed people the wrong way, and I was forced to show niggas why I didn't give a fuck.
For a moment, Gigi didn't speak. She poured herself a cup of tea, then took a seat across from me. She watched me with her brows drawn close together, as if she were second-guessing whatever was on her mind.
"What's going on, Gigi? You never bite your tongue with me."
"Normally I don't, but lately it's become hard to talk to you."
"When it comes to you, Gi, I'm easy like Sunday morning," I joked, wanting to lighten the mood for whatever she had to say.
"Easy is the last word I'd use to describe you, but to each their own." She shrugged, laughing a little.
I faked hurt, holding my chest like I was about to bleed out. "That one might've taken me out, Gi."
"Boy, stop. It'll take a million men to take you out."
"Glad you know. Wassup, tho?"
"Are you always going to walk in here and look around when you know you'll never find someone waiting to hurt you?"
I chuckled, leaning back in the chair, arms spread wide on either side. Wherever this conversation was headed, it had nothing to do with my actions in her home.
"If I told you I had OCD, you wouldn't blink twice 'bout the shit I do."
Gigi slowly stirred her tea, her spoon tapping against the cup in a soft rhythm. "Of course not. OCD is a medical condition. You searching my house is because of a lack of trust."
"I trust you, Gigi," I told her honestly, meeting her stare.
She tilted her head, lips curving in that patient, knowing way of hers. "You trust me to an extent. You trust all of us to some extent, but who do you trust fully? Who is that person you can show all your scars and trust that they won't flinch but heal you back to innocence?"