Chapter 8 Zo #2
“That’s what I’m talking about. That scared ass look. Who the fuck put that on you? What happened?” I questioned.
Her eyes watered, and she tried to look away, but I stepped a little to the side, blocking her gaze, not her body. Keeping her from running mentally and forcing her to look me in the eye.
“Nah, look at me. If something happened while I was gone, I need to know. If somebody said some shit to you, touched you, threatened you, I need to know that shit.”
She shook her head; tears started to well in her eyes.
“Zo, it’s not. It’s not like that.”
“Then spit it out.”
I was louder than I had intended to be, but my patience snapped right there. “Tell me what’s up, Remy. Before my mind goes someplace neither one of us wants it to go.” I could feel the heat rising in my chest. She was holding on to the shit like it was a military secret.
She wiped her face, chest rising and falling like she was trying to hold herself together.
“Okay, I’ll tell you.” She said, exhaling and folding her arms across her chest.
She wiped her face again, like it’d buy her another second. But it didn’t.
“Remy,” I warned.
“Well. I found out something while you were gone.”
I clenched my jaw. She wasn’t talking fast enough for me, “What?”
She swallowed hard. “We’re not. Our marriage...Zo, we’re not legally married.”
For a second, everything around me went still.
“What?” I asked, confused. My tone was ice as I scanned her face. We had two ceremonies, so I didn’t understand what she was trying to tell me.
She winced, like it hurt her to say the words.
“I’m legally married to Karlos Weston. He forged documents that I never knew about, and he hasn’t been declared dead, so I’m not technically a widow.
But I didn’t know, Zo. I swear I didn’t know.
And when I found out, I just panicked. I didn’t want to tell you.
I thought you would… or… I don’t know, I thought it meant something to you. That it would change something.”
She went from not talking at all to stumbling over her thoughts and stuttering. She was talking, but my mind stopped at the two words that she had spoken earlier. Karlos Weston.
The same nigga whose name I hated hearing attached to hers anywhere. Rem and I had talked over the years about him when she decided to open up. Just the way she reacted to the mention of his name always pissed me off.
“That’s why you've been walking around like this? Because you think a piece of paper makes you his?” I asked her with my voice flat.
She stumped her foot and threw her arms down. “Yes, Zo!”
“So let me understand this Remy…” I spoke slowly, almost forcing myself to keep a straight face. “You been in this house, my house, our house, torturing me for eight days… over some paperwork?”
She froze.
“You thought I’d give a fuck about some clerical error?” I scoffed, stepping closer. “You really think that nigga has any claim to you? After all these years? Remy, you gotta know better than to think that I would care about that.”
Her breathing hitched, but I wasn’t done.
“You over here flinching, can’t sleep, can’t look at me… because your mind told you you’re not really mine? Is that it? You thought some old-ass marriage license was going to undo the years we put in?” I was dead ass confused. My voice had a sharp tone now, letting her know I wanted an answer.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want to tell you. I thought you would think that I was lying to you. Or tricking you.”
I laughed, but it was humorless. “Baby. If I ever thought you were playing with me, we wouldn’t be here. There’d be police reports, missing persons records, and a war started.”
She blinked at me.
I pointed at her chest and then grabbed her chin.
“You been mine. Since the day you stood your thick ass in that window at your pops' house staring at me. Let me make this clear to you, Mrs.Richardson. Karlos ain’t your husband, he’s never been.
He’s a nigga with a paperwork problem. I’m the one who wakes up to you.
The nigga who built this house with you.
You gave birth to my children. Y’all carry my last name. ”
“That’s another thing that scared me. I finally told Jax earlier, and he said the Mafia could make the kids Weston heirs.” Her eyes fell to the ground.
This time, it was me with wide eyes.
“MY kids? Remy, don’t piss me off. You think any muhfucka would be able to open their mouth to tell me something about MY kids?”
This time I laughed for real. I was starting to feel like I must’ve been too soft on Rem, and I had to shake shit up for the hell of it. The fact that she thought twice about this was starting to concern me. Fuck the Mafia. She knew that when it came to them, a problem was always no problem.
Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak.
“Ma, don’t you ever in your damn life, walk around this house scared to tell me some shit that doesn’t even matter.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. But I can tell that she was relieved by my reaction.
“You should be. Not about the situation either. But for thinking for one second you belong to somebody else.” I finally closed the space between us. She went to wipe her face, but I grabbed her wrists gently but firmly, lowering them.
“Now, tomorrow, you gone tell me exactly who the fuck told you about this, how they found out, and why you didn’t come to me first.”
Her breath was caught as she saw me scanning the length of her body. My hands fell at her waist.
“But right now, I’m about to show you why no other nigga but me could ever touch you. And why you, for damn sure ain’t nobody’s wife but mine. Don’t run from me again. I don’t do that shit with you.”
I followed her movement with my eyes, slow as hell, on purpose.
“Okayyy.” She said, emphasizing the word. I chuckled.
“That’s how you talk to your second husband?”
“Baby! Stop.”
“Stop what?” I asked her, letting my voice fall to the calm tone that she normally loved or hated, depending on the moment.
“Stop joking about that,” she sighed. “I’m not… just don’t say that.”
I tilted my head, just watching her squirm.
“That’s funny, Shorty. You didn’t care enough to tell me for eight days, but the minute I say it out loud, you're ready to cry about it.”
“Because I don’t want anyone but you,” she admitted.
I let the smirk fade and stepped in again. I nestled my face into her neck, licking, biting, and sucking on it.
“Say it again,” I murmured between kisses.
She swallowed and palmed the back of my head. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
“Just me?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?” I asked as I stopped and made eye contact with her again. I licked my lips as I could see the way her whole demeanor had changed. “Because the way you been acting got me thinking you forgot whose bed you crawl in at night.”
I untied her robe, and my hands met her bare skin. She shivered as I slowly massaged her breasts.
“You done crying?” I asked, rolling her nipple between my fingers.
She nodded.
“You done lying?”
“Yesss,” She hissed.
“You done letting my wife walk around this house thinking she belongs to somebody else?” I picked her up and sat her on the dresser and stood between her legs.
She held on to my neck and looked between us at the space where our bodies joined.
I rubbed up and down the entrance of her pussy.
It took only a second for her to get wet beneath my fingertips.
“I’m yours, you know that.” She groaned as I removed my joggers and stepped out of them.
My dick stood at attention, pressed against her pussy. I teased her slit slowly before lining it up and pushing into her all at once.
I could feel all my tension starting to release. It had been almost six weeks since I had been inside Remy, inside home.
Leaning forward, I bit her lip, “Yeah, I do.” I sped up the pace. Dick sliding in and out of her with a vengeance as she tried to brace herself with one arm around my neck and one steadying herself on the dresser.
“Zo,” She panted, as her mouth fell open.
“Say that shit again, Remy, until you realize that it’s the only name that matters.”
Her fingers slid into my hair, pulling me back down to her. That alone shot heat straight through me. I kissed her again, deeper this time, one hand braced beside her, the other gripping her hip tight like I was reminding her where she fit.
She got wetter as I stroked her.
“You being stingy with my pussy, Rem?” I asked against her jaw. “You know what that shit did to me?” I pulled back and rubbed her swollen clit.
She moaned as her back arched and her head fell back against the wall. “I’m sorry.”
“You will be,” I promised, voice dropping lower. I went harder, not to hurt her, but enough for her to feel me reclaiming what she thought I had lost.
“Open your eyes, Remy. Watch me fuck you.” I demanded as she leaned forward and slightly repositioned herself to get a better look.
With my body free from being wrapped in her legs, I stood up, put my hand around her neck, and drilled her.
She was loud as hell, and I was glad that our room was soundproof.
She massaged her nipples and then started to play with her pussy.
I knew she was getting to that level, and that’s the shit I wanted to see.
I dragged my mouth down her neck, slow enough she felt every inch of the restraint I was holding onto. I could feel the nut coming, but I wasn’t ready. Not until I got my point across.
Her fingers slid under my shirt when I lifted her off the dresser. She gasped into my mouth.
“Zo.”
“I got you,” I said as I carried her to the bed. Instead of placing her in it, I stood her at the side of it.
“Grab your ankles for me,” I slapped her ass as she bent over like I had told her to.
I entered her again, making her leg shake and her cry out in pleasure.
I teased her asshole before I slipped my thumb in; that shit always drove her crazy.
I had barely regained my rhythm, and I could already feel her releasing on my dick.
She shook and fell forward, but I put my arm around her waist and caught her.
If she thought she was getting off because she had cum, she had to think again. I needed another one.
I repositioned her as she panted, in the same place. Ass in the air and my thumb in her butt, and stroked her. She whined, but she started to fuck me back.
“Just like that, Mama, throw that shit back.” I coached as she grabbed my ankles and took control. I didn’t move; I let her have her moment. Gave her time to wind on me and do those little tricks before I punished her.
As soon as I started stroking her again, she ran from me, and I chuckled. She stood to her full height and then grabbed my hand and pushed me back on the bed. I saw where this was going; her pride was getting the best of her, and Remy Rich was activated.
She mounted me, slid down on my dick, causing us both to moan. Then she took my hands and placed them both behind my head. She held them in place, got on her tiptoes, and cuffed my chin. Running her tongue across my bottom, she asked, “This is my dick, right, baby?”
I grinned at her; I was willing to go along with her game. “Yeah, Ma,” I admitted.
She bounced up and down and did this grip thing with her pussy that never failed to drain me.
“Get this pussy, Zo, I want you to nut for me.” She begged and pulled my lip into her mouth. Sucking on it and clenching her walls around my dick.
“Fuck, Rem.”
“Cum in your pussy, baby,” She moaned into my mouth. I let out a groan because in seconds, I was filling her with five weeks of tension. She shook against me and collapsed on my chest. I knew she was on her second release of the night.
She lay on my chest with me still inside of her. Tomorrow we will address the issue, but tonight, it was Remy who reminded me exactly who she belonged to.