16. Gage #2
“Continue to enjoy the rest of the evening. The hosts will bring out to-go containers and slices of that beautiful cake. Y’all take all this shit home with you.”
“Gage!” my mother warned, giving me a look.
“Leave him alone, Janice,” my father said, calming her down.
The crowd laughed. And just as I handed the mic back to the DJ, Paris snatched it and made her own announcement.
“And don’t worry, Mahasin. I’ll make sure Gage is well-rested during our trip to the cabins Christmas week. I won’t tire him out too much,” she said sharply into the mic, her voice filled with jealousy.
Mouths dropped. I put both hands over my face.
“Paris, what the fuck?” I grunted and snatched the mic from her hands.
“Oh, this bitch got me fucked up,” I heard Amber mutter.
“It’s cool, Ambs. I got it,” Mahasin said softly. I didn’t even see her walk up to the DJ booth.
“Can I see that for a second?” she asked, gesturing to the mic.
I gave it to her.
She turned to the crowd with a smile, but her stare was fixed on Paris.
"As Gage, previously stated, thank you all for coming," she warmly addressed the crowd before turning to Paris. “And as for you Penelope, I appreciate you looking out for Gage’s well-being on your trip. It must be easy for you to commit to something like that—seeing that you don’t do shit else,” she said sweetly, venom laced beneath her warmth.
“Damn!” someone said. I knew it was Jason.
“But don’t worry, girl. I want you to give him the best of the only thing you’ll ever have to offer a man. And seeing as I’m a well-renowned OB-GYN, and from my expertise this baby will probably come a week late, I won’t need him well-rested until January.”
Dollface handed me back the mic and floated back to her chair, high-fiving every woman on the way. The snickers weren’t even subtle. Amber let out a loud “Whew!” and fanned herself with a menu.
My stomach was tense—not from embarrassment, but anger.
Pissed that I got played.
Paris had booked the trip during Mahasin’s due date. And because I’d been overstimulated, I hadn’t remembered the dates.
But relief slid in—Dollface believed the baby would come a week late.
I held on to that lifeline. Otherwise, I would’ve canceled that fucking trip.
The whole room watched Paris absorb that shade like a paper towel. She tried her best to smile through it, but the pain and embarrassment were all in her eyes.
Tonight was a moment for life.
The cabin looked as though it had come straight from a postcard.
Snow fell in the kind of flakes us folks in Havenbrook only saw on TV—big and soft, damn near tear-worthy.
The fireplace did an amazing job making the place feel warm and cozy, and everything smelled like cedar, cinnamon, and peace on earth. It should have felt perfect.
Paris hummed as she unpacked, staging everything in the cabin for what I knew would be Piksta photos with hashtags. Here I am making promises not to use my phone, and she’s letting the whole world know where she is, what she’s doing, and who she’s doing it with.
I wandered the cabin, room to room, each one possessing its own unique characteristics, each with a breathtaking view.
This whole environment was heaven on earth—but my mind couldn’t settle and indulge, because I couldn’t stop thinking about Mahasin giving birth.
I know she predicted the baby to come a week later, but let’s face it, it wasn’t up to Mahasin.
No, my mind wouldn’t settle until I was less than three miles away from her and she was still pregnant.
Paris came up behind me and slid her arms around my middle.
“This is beautiful. Just perfect,” she said into my shirt.
“It is,” I said, meaning the house, not the moment.
She circled around to look me in the face—had to be because of the disdain in my tone.
“What?” she asked.
Something in me told me to let it go. Just get through this week, and when we're back home, I’ll have the conversation with Paris about ending our relationship. My gut already told me the answer to the question that had been brewing, so there was no need to bring it up.
“You picked this week on purpose, didn’t you?” I brought it up.
Her expression went from curious to innocent, but I saw the devil all behind that pouty grin.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“You knew it was around my daughter’s due date.”
“Gage, seriously? Is that what you think of me?”
Yeah, I wanted to say, but refrained.
“Honestly, I didn’t think about that when planning this vacation. I only thought about spending Christmas with the man I love.”
Love. We’d never used that word before. Came nowhere close to saying it to each other. There was only one woman besides my mama that I ever told I loved, and I’d be content with her being the last.
“Aight,” I said, not convinced.
After chopping some wood, I came in to take a shower and prepare dinner. Retrieving one of my T-shirts from the drawer, I noticed a random safety pin on the dresser. Immediately, I started itching at the thought of it belonging to someone else, which meant this cabin wasn’t clean.
“Aye, Paris, we gotta go. This place is filthy,” I called out.
“What do you mean, Gage? It’s spotless in here.”
“You don’t hear those bed bugs?” I asked.
“Nigga, no. What brought this on?”
I pointed to the safety pin, daring myself not to touch it.
Paris picked it up. “This?” She waved it in my face.
I damn near capped her ass.
“Yeah, that. And now you need a tetanus shot.”
She giggled, but I ain’t find shit funny.
“Gage, this is mine.” She went to her makeup bag and pulled out a mini sewing kit that contained a few other safety pins of different sizes. “See, no harm, no foul,” she said, kissing my cheek and heading to the kitchen.
We cooked. Or, I cooked while she took pictures.
I seared a few pieces of steak along with garlic roasted potatoes and asparagus.
The conversation over dinner was nice. We laughed multiple times and even reminisced about some of our favorite shows from our youth.
We sipped some dessert wine over a large piece of chocolate cake, and my mind couldn’t help but wonder if I was being too hard on Paris.
Was I being fair to her? Maybe I could give this a chance.
“There’s a documentary on housing projects and their effect on the Black community premiering on Netflix tonight. I brought my iPad, and we could watch it if you want,” she asked, unsurely.
Her eyes seemed so loving and innocent, and the fact that she was prepared to do something I’d enjoy, wow. She considered me.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that,” I assured.
“Great. Let’s go shower so we can snuggle up and enjoy,” she giggled.
I decided to use a separate bathroom, and before hopping in the shower, I placed an override on my DND setting that would allow Mahasin to call or text me. Paris would have to understand.
I undressed and hopped in the shower, allowing the hot water to caress my body.
Lathering my loofah with my body wash, I began to bathe as I thought about the woman carrying my child.
That perfect woman with her smooth brown skin and perfect curves.
The best pussy I ever had—wet and tight—the only one I’ve ever felt raw. My pussy.
My dick grew hard thinking about fucking Mahasin from the back, her ass moving like ocean waves.
“Fuck!” I let out a groan as I gripped my dick.
“Oh, I see you started without me,” Paris said, letting herself into the shower.
Don’t get me wrong—Paris wasn’t Dollface, but she was a sight for sore eyes.
Her body was perfectly etched, dips in all the right places, and those nipple piercings were sexy as hell on those perfect breast of hers.
Her curly ginger hair looked tempting against her sun-kissed skin, and I couldn’t help but fist a handful of it and bring her mouth to mine.
“What you in here trying to do?” I said firmly, a mix of frustration and lust in my tone.
“I’m trying to... to... to do whatever you want me to, baby,” she moaned out.
“I wanna fuck,” I responded. “I want you to bend over so I can beat that pussy from the back,” I said as I tilted her head back and bit her neck.
“Ah,” she cried.
“I’m way ahead of you,” she said as she showed me a gold packet in her hand.
“Put it on me,” I instructed.
Paris got on her knees and went to remove the condom from the wrapper, but I halted her and rubbed the precum from my dick on her lips. As if she knew my non-verbal command, she took me into her mouth, inch by inch.
“Fuck, P,” I moaned.
She sucked my shit like the last bit of a milkshake you couldn’t get through the straw. Her mouth was warm and wet, and she allowed me to fuck it at a perilous pace. She began to massage my balls, causing me to throw my head back and moan out like a bitch.
Damn, I remember when Mahasin did this—twirling her tongue around the head of my shit while she jerked me off and massaged my balls.
Fuck. Just thinking about it had a nigga about to bust.
I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about another woman while inside mine, but I couldn’t help it.
Just when I was about to reach my happy ending, Paris pulled me from her mouth.
“The fuck is you doing?” I asked.
Ignoring me, she placed the condom on my dick and walked over to the bench in the shower. Getting on all fours, she arched her back perfectly. I stood behind her, the bench between my legs, and entered her.
“Baby,” she whined as I began beating her from behind.
The moisture on the bench caused her to slide a bit, so I held her by the waist, making sure that pussy wasn’t going anywhere.
“Stay just like this,” I said, eyes closed, biting my bottom lip.
“Like this, baby?” she whined.
“Yes, just like that. Fuck, Mahasin, you the best I ever had—”
You know that sound you hear when a record abruptly stops?
Yeah. That’s all the fuck I heard when realization hit that I just called out another woman’s name during sex.
What made it worse was the fact that this was the same woman whose relationship with me was supposed to be strictly platonic—healthy parenting. Easing my dick out of Paris, I felt like shit and was physically prepared for the fight that was about to happen in this shower.
“P, my bad, I ain’t mean to—” I couldn’t even get the words out.
She got up from the bench and turned to look at me, pain all over her face. She didn’t deserve this, man. To be treated like that. Desmond tried to warn me, and what did I do? Become a fuck boy anyway.
“Aye, P, let me explain.” I reached for her, and to my surprise, she took my hand.
“There’s no need to explain, Gage. It was a mistake, and I understand.”
“Huh?” I was confused.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, and the baby is on the way. So, I can see how you could make that mistake. It’s cool. I want to finish.”
She resumed her position on the bench, and although my dick was still brick hard, the fact that she still wanted to fuck after I called out another woman’s name was suspicious. After a few seconds had passed and she noticed I wasn’t behind her, she turned her head slightly.
“So, you just gonna stand there and not fuck me?”
“Why you okay with that shit?” I asked.
“Gage, I need to release. It’s the least you can do after disrespecting me.”
Nah. That shit wasn’t sitting right with me.
“P, I think we should talk.”
“Gage, you trying to bust a nut or nah? ’Cause I don’t want to talk—I want to fuck.” Her tone wasn’t angry. It was more… eager. Desperate. Like if I didn’t fuck her, I’d be ruining something.
“You wanna make a nigga bust that bad?”
“Yes, I really do, baby,” she moaned.
“Then come get it.”
She got up seductively and made her way toward me, eyes wandering—nonverbally asking how I was going to take that pussy down. I pushed slightly on her shoulders, indicating that I wanted her on her knees. I removed the condom from my dick, letting it fall to the shower floor.
“What are you doing?” she asked, sounding frantic.
“Finish me off how you started, P.”
“But what does that do for me? How does that get me off?”
“Finger pop yourself while you’re doing it.”
With a heavy sigh and disappointment written all over her face, she sucked me off, swallowing every drop I released into her mouth.
I washed, brushed my teeth, and finished my moisturizing routine before sliding into my boxers and getting into bed.
Paris slid in next to me, very quiet and very pissed.
That girl was up to something, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
This is the same girl who trashed my house because I sent flowers—was I really supposed to believe she was ok with me fantasizing about another woman while I was hitting her from the back?
I turned on my side and closed my eyes, envisioning myself standing under that sunflower arch with my baby. Both.
My phone screen lit up. I tapped it, seeing it was a message from Dollface.
Mahasin: She’s sucking her thumb.
Mahasin: [sonogram picture]
I smiled seeing my baby girl in that sonogram picture, but my smile fell instantly, and I sent my reply.
Me: Did I miss a doctor’s appointment?
Mahasin: No, Ambs and I just wanted to take a glance at her.
Me: Nah, don’t do that shit without me. Baby girl probably upset her daddy wasn’t there.
Mahasin: Whatever. See you when you get back.
Me: Can’t wait.
I placed my phone on the nightstand and drifted off to sleep.