Chapter 18
Layla
He follows me while I busy myself fluffing the pillows on the couch.
“Marriage is serious. It shouldn’t be treated as a transaction,” I admonish.
“Everything is a transaction, Layla. Look at me,” he orders, but I don’t move. “Come on.” He takes my shoulders and turns me to look at him again. “I have money, and you need it to help your grandma. You have something I want.” I gasp at his crassness. “Not that,” he chuckles. “We can help each other. My daughter likes you, and I want to give her the kind of family I never had.”
I break away from his touch, but I don’t move away. “That’s not how marriage is supposed to work. And I’m only twenty-two. I’m not ready to raise a child.” Then I try to shove him, only he doesn’t budge.
“A marriage works however we want it to work. Come on. Let’s sit down and figure it out.” He pulls out a chair for me at the table. Like a zombie, I sit.
“You’re a whore,” I say. “I’m not going to ever be with someone who sleeps with everybody. Community dick is not my goal. Am I supposed to sit at home caring for your child while you’re out having orgies with fangirls? And what about your away games? Who knows what you’ll get into on the road.”
He sits down across from me but pulls his chair as close to me as possible without touching me.
“The thing is, I’m not a whore.”
“You have a reputation for sleeping with anyone and anything. Women have come out and said they’ve had threesomes or orgies with you.” I look around and whisper, “Jasmine is here only because of some rando you took to your hotel room. You slept with her nanny for goodness sake.”
“All of that is true except for the nanny. She got in my bed and took that picture. I never touched her, and I never wanted to.”
I twist my mouth, not believing a word he just said.
“The other things you said are true, but I’m not a whore. I never lied to anyone. I never made promises. Everyone I was with knew it was only for a night or two and that nothing would come of it. I never mistreated or took advantage of anyone. I had sex with people who wanted to have sex with me. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“So, you’re community dick but honest about it? Are you going to tell me every time you cheat on me? That is not appealing.” I try to stand but he’s too close for me to move. “Unlike you, I’m looking for a relationship with someone who cares about me. I’m looking for love, not some quid pro quo arrangement.”
“I never cheated on anyone because I’ve never been in a relationship. I won’t cheat on you. I promise,” he says.
That takes the wind out of my sails. I look into his green eyes, and he’s not smirking. He’s not even smiling. I look away.
“You won’t cheat on me? Does that mean you expect us to—” The word gets stuck in my throat, “fuck?”
“We’ll be married. A real marriage because I get horny.”
“Eww,” I say.
“What? You don’t get horny?”
“That is none of your business,” I say with my nose in the air.
“You help me raise Jasmine. It was hard last season. Each time I left her, she had a meltdown. Sometimes I’m gone for days or a week. I have no family to help me. I’m all alone.” Part of me feels for him. Alone is one thing I’ve never been. I’ve had both parents, Donna, and my grandma. Not to mention June Bug is always in my business. I have about a dozen other cousins, friends, and extended family members. I can’t imagine being in his shoes. If I was a single mother, I’d have a village to help me.
But he’s not your problem. He’s not your friend or your family.
“You don’t even like me,” I remind him.
“Yes, I do. You’re very pretty. You’re smart and hardworking. You’re good to my daughter, and you have a nice ass. You’re the one who has always had a problem with me. And you’re nice to everyone but me.”
“None of those reasons are enough for us to get married, and stop looking at my ass before I give you a black eye.”
“What about Gaga?” he asks. “I’ve already called the nursing home, and they have a place for her. The rehab center is ready for her too.” He takes both of my hands in his. “We can do this, Layla. I can help you, and I need you.”
“You’re not my type. I like bald men. Black preferably, but I’m flexible there.”
He runs his hands over his head. “I’m not shaving my head. I won’t look good bald. I have a dent right here. Feel.” He takes one of my hands and puts it in the middle of his head.
I pull away. “I’m not attracted to you. I want passion,” I tell him.
“Really? Because you could not stop looking at my dick that day you were snooping around in my bedroom. You checked out my ass too.”
I stare into his eyes, unable to utter a single word to refute his claims. I’ll take this to my grave, but he’s very handsome. He has beautiful green eyes and full lips. He has a nice tan, and his naked body is perfection. When he smiles, my stomach does a little somersault, and I’ve never experienced that with anyone before. I can see why all the fangirls want a piece of him.
“Kiss me,” he says. “If you feel nothing, I’ll drop it.”
“I’m not kissing you with your chicken breath.”
He sighs and sticks his hand in his pocket. He takes out a packet of mints and shoves two in his mouth. I look at his lips again, and then into his eyes. I take a mint and crunch it between my teeth. My heart starts to beat like a drum inside my chest. I lick my lips in anticipation. He’s clean-shaven, and I wonder if he can even grow facial hair. I don’t remember the last time I kissed anyone who wasn’t family.
“Maybe we should stand up,” I say, nervously clearing my throat. I start to stand, but he wraps his arms around my waist. I lose my balance and end up on his lap. His firm lips land on mine before I can situate myself.
I haven’t sat on a man’s lap since way before I hit puberty. It’s not something I ever thought about, but right now, I don’t think I ever want to leave. His lips feel warm and soft. Much softer than I thought they would.
I think I hear myself whimper. I open my mouth to breathe, and he takes that as a sign to go inside. His tongue is like velvet. I close my eyes and lose myself in the softness of his lips and the safety of his arms. My hands find their way to the nape of his neck, and they travel up. His hair is a buzz cut, so I can’t slide my fingers through it, but his hair and skin are so soft.
I press myself to him and he lifts me so I can straddle him, and I can feel him through his shorts. My body suddenly comes alive in a way it never has before. His hands slide underneath my shirt, and I can feel his warm hands on my bare skin. I don’t know what possesses me, but I slowly grind on top of him.
I hear another moan, and I don’t know if it’s him or me. I don’t care. All I care about at this moment is this man, this kiss, and the softness of his hands on my skin. Those large hands cup my ass. No man has ever touched my ass before, and I don’t want him to ever stop. My nipples harden, and I rub my chest on him to ease the ache in my breasts. I grind on him to ease the need between my legs.
The kiss continues until I hear a phone ringing in the living room. When I realize it’s mine, I jump off his lap as if I’ve been caught doing something I have no business doing. I almost trip as I run to my phone and see Mom flash across my screen. I take a deep breath and pray that my heart will slow down. I also say another prayer that my mother doesn’t detect anything wrong with me.
“Hey, Mom,” I say as calmly as I can.