Chapter 5
FIVE
Karys
Friday arrived at a snail’s pace. Even with the match he’d won in the middle of the week, the only thing he could focus on was Cyanna.
Lunch and dinner delivered daily to her office and home.
A dress delivered earlier in the day for tonight.
A directive to his housekeeping staff to prep the guest room for her.
When they were younger, turning thirty seemed like the golden ticket to being old.
They even went as far as vowing if they were still single, they’d marry each other and live life happily.
A joke made as drunk underage college students turned into a vow broken as adults.
He pictured his thirtieth year with her tucked at his side, a party for their family and friends, maybe a kid or two running around.
What he was looking at was the stark opposite.
Yanieca pranced around the house as if her name was on the deed, critiquing every little thing.
He’d already planned for this to be their final time in the same space.
He didn’t care how she kicked and screamed or threatened him.
Karys was done playing games. He’d never sat on the sideline in his life until it came to Cyanna, and she’d humbled him in the worst way possible.
At this point, he figured treasure stolen was treasure to be repossessed. Everything that was his, he was taking back. At this point, being the good guy about it was dead in the water. He stood outside amongst a handful of friends sipping his drink, almost past his limit, watching the front door.
Any moment now, the captor of his heart was due to walk through the door in that pink dress.
Blush to be exact; her favorite shade of pink.
As he brought his glass to his lips, the door opened.
As he leaned up from his relaxed position, his view was obstructed by Yanieca intercepting Cyanna, who held a small box in her hand.
She’d been the only one to show up with a gift.
“Oh, you made it,” Yanieca spoke in a tone that was condescending at best. “Where’s Demarcus? I said plus one.”
Cyanna smiled that smile, attempting to oblige her out of respect for Karys.
There wasn’t anything else to it. He knew that glint in her eyes.
Cyanna couldn’t stand Yanieca but as long as she was the lady in his life, she’d stomach it.
Just like he’d done Damari. The respect for one another was lent out to their partners.
However, Karys was ready to say fuck respect.
“He’s out of town on business, so here I am, solo dolo. But I come baring gifts,” Cyanna politely hummed, holding up the self-wrapped box.
Yanieca curled her lip and grunted, almost embarrassed that she’d shown up with a cheaply wrapped gift. “Oh…a gift. He didn’t need anything. I’m all he needs, really.”
Cyanna pulled in a chuckle. “That’s good for you.”
“Pretty Princess,” Karys trilled, capturing the attention of both women but that nickname was only reserved for one. “You made it.”
The jealousy was now emblazoned in Yanieca’s eyes.
“I wouldn’t miss dirty thirty for anything,” Cyanna replied, handing him his gift. “Nothing huge. You have everything already.”
“Mm,” Karys grunted. “Not everything.”
“How about,” Yanieca spoke up, ending the almost not-so-subtle eye fucking her man was doing to another woman and linked her arm in Cyanna’s. “Let me introduce you to the girls. Get you a drink. Lord knows you can’t eat anything in that dress. Karys, go enjoy our party. Leave the girl talk to us.”
To temper the jealousy and possession, Cyanna waved him off.
It wasn’t a question if she could hold her own.
It was a question of how far Yanieca was going to go.
Cyanna walked off with the girlfriend who was treading on borrowed time.
Her hair was curled in a style he’d sat impatiently and watched her do countless times.
One that was worth every second he had to sit on her bedroom floor bouncing the ball between each foot.
All that hair swiping over her midback, trailing his eyes down to the widespread hips she developed over the years. Beauty.
“Fuucckk,” he groaned to himself before roaming to the bar for another drink and to watch her move about the space he hadn’t fully settled in.
This beach house was the first project she designed.
A passion project, fully funded by him. He didn’t move in; he didn’t sleep here.
He spent his days off the road in a condo downtown.
Yanieca wanted the party here so she could flex, not knowing that this was and would always be Cyanna’s.
She’d picked out every slab of marble, every stroke of paint.
She balanced herself between planning a wedding and creating this.
Cyanna barely drank but pretended to do so all so Yanieca wouldn’t throw a fit. She nibbled on the passed food, she laughed at the jokes, and coyly smiled at the men Yanieca introduced her to despite the ring on her finger.
He groaned, spotting it. Emerald cut on a plain band. She wanted a cushion cut double halo ring on a diamond band. Two sapphire bands to accompany the ring. She had it and didn’t know.
An hour into her arrival, Yanieca was saucy and in a silent battle with Cyanna’s quiet confidence.
“Come on, let’s sing happy birthday to my man,” she shouted over the crowd on the veranda. “Before we do, I just want to offer him a toast. To love, to filling up this big ass house with our babies – born by surrogate by the way, and to many years of happiness with me.”
Cyanna stood behind her, with Karys’ full attention from the other side of the table.
She crossed her eyes at the toast, making him smile and nip the laughter bubbling inside.
As Yanieca led a drunk rendition of happy birthday, Karys didn’t look away from Cyanna who mouthed the same song she had since meeting him.
“It’s your birthday. The best day in the world. Pray your year is brighter and your life is fuller. Happy birthday to the star of my world. Make your wish,” she mouthed the song her mother made for her and in turn, she sang to him every birthday. Although, the last two years it was sent via text.
Karys’ eyes drifted closed like he’d done the last twenty-three years they’d been friends. When he opened them, Yanieca was slinging herself around him, attempting to kiss him. He dodged it.
“Some water? Yeah?” he stated lowly, watching Cyanna walk off toward the far end of the property.
“I just want to kiss you,” Yanieca whined.
“Maybe sit down for a second until you level out,” he posed, making it seem like sitting down and chilling out was her idea. “You’ve been racing around here all day. Just relax.”
She drunkenly huffed. “You’re right. Wake me up when everyone leaves, okay?”
He didn’t offer her a reply, just watched as she staggered into the living room and plopped down.
With Yanieca out of his way and instructions for the staff to carry her drunk ass back to her house when the partygoers left, he grabbed his gift.
Cyanna’s scent of tiger lily, mango, and coconut pulled him down to the edge of the property.
“Pretty Princess,” he softly said, grabbing her attention. Cyanna looked over her shoulder and offered him a small smile. “What’d you get me?”
“Open it,” she encouraged.
“No one gets me gifts but you,” Karys said, undoing the wrap and opening the box. He found the beaded bracelet from that drunken college night. “You kept this.”
She turned around fully and nodded. “I did. Said I’d give it back if you had someone. It’s not mine to keep.”
Karys grunted and placed it back in the box. “I don’t have anyone, Cyanna.”
“Yanieca is inside. You have someone,” she stated. “Might not be who you want or need, but it’s someone. You’ve kept her around long enough.”
“I kept her around so I could make myself forget,” he grumbled.
Cyanna’s brow rose. “Forget what?”
“That I let the best thing I had marry a nigga not even worth a drop of her attention,” Karys said plainly.
She pulled in a small gasp and barely nodded. “Oh.”
“Yeah, walked her down the aisle like a fuckin’ idiot and all.”
“Karys, let’s not do this right now,” Cyanna pressed, trying to hide the tears swelling in her eyes under the moonlight.
“When are we doin’ it. I’m tired of doing this song and dance. We either in or we’re out,” he returned the press.
“I’m married, Karys.”
“Fuck him. I don’t give a damn about that shit.”
Cyanna dryly chuckled. “That’s that liquor talkin’. It’s all talk. I need a minute.”
She walked off. Inside of the house, up the stairs; she’d traveled enough times in this mansion’s design that she knew her way around.
He gave her exactly a minute before taking the same route up the stairs and to the guest room set aside for her.
He eased in, locked the door behind him, and followed the sounds of her sniffles.
Outside the bathroom door, his voice vibrated against it. “Open the door, Cy.”
Reluctantly, she pulled it open and swiped the tears free from her made-up face. “I’m going to go. I don’t want to ruin your night.”
“You’re the best part of this night. Every fuckin’ night,” he shared, stepping in and closing the space between them. “You’re best part of everything, Cy.”
“Don’t do this, K. Please don’t do this,” she whimpered.
“I’m sick of this shit,” he stated, using his index finger to lift her chin. “I did it. I watched. I waited.”
“And I didn’t?” she pushed back. “I’ve played the sidekick, the homie all these years and suddenly when I move on, it’s the end of the world?”
“You chose him.”
“I waited on you to choose me,” she tearfully admitted. “I waited, Karys. I know I fucked up, I don’t need reminding. I just can’t go against my moral compass.”
“Fuck that moral compass if it’s not pointing to me – to us, it doesn’t mean shit. I don’t care about the nigga you married. You were never his,” Karys claimed. “You’ve always been mine.”
That declaration was sealed with a kiss.
Roughness that stung, but she welcomed it.
Every press of his lips against hers was dizzying.
She hadn’t had enough champagne to be swimming like this.
His tongue found hers in a passion-filled kiss she hadn’t experienced since that last time they found themselves like this.
The last time he let the liquor talk and she listened.
It wasn’t supposed to happen. His hands weren’t supposed glide up her thighs and press against her heat.
She wasn’t supposed to entertain the idea of letting him do things to her.
She was a girlfriend then and took pride in being chosen.
The difference now was that Damari had another life he was living while married to her, and he wouldn’t be walking into the apartment unannounced.
Cyanna surrendered. She hadn’t felt alive like this. Eyes drunk with lust, her eyes trailed his motion. From her mouth and neck to her shoulder, his hands in her hair before tugging at the zipper.
Karys groaned, kissing every inch of exposed skin before placing her on top the counter and hooking her thighs in his arms. “You smell so damn good.”
She couldn’t offer him any words, afraid that if she spoke this dream would be over.
The dream always ended right here. Suckling her handful of breasts, kissing down her midsection, Karys dipped his head between her thighs.
His tongue dragged over her taut center.
The heat radiating from her making him shiver.
Cyanna grabbed her breasts, nipping her lip to muffle her moan.
“Taste even better,” he groaned, doing it again before pushing his fingers inside of her and latching on to her bud.
Cyanna fought the gasp and writhe of his invasion. Softly, she let the lowest sound she could make out. Far overdue for this type of attention. “Rys.”
“Let me hear that shit,” he commanded through suctions and licks. “Pussy fuckin’ wet.”
He welcomed her hands on the back of his head, and she bucked her hips against his face. From wanting her to having her unlocked another layer of possessiveness in him. One so insane he’d make sure she carried a piece of him to term and do it again and again.
“I’m-” she rasped. “I’m going to cum, Karys.”
He kept his motion, massaging her tightness with his fingers, sucking her bud.
Until she violently shook and her pussy locked around his fingers.
Cyanna put her hands over her mouth trying to muffle the uncontrollable moans of pleasure.
Karys stood pushed his fingers inside of her mouth and wrapped her trembling legs around him.
On the bed, he locked this view of her into his mind so when he dreamt, he could delight in how good the real thing was. Cyanna threw inhibition to wind and hurried to undress him before her sense returned, and she ran from this.
Karys balanced his weight over her. Fully naked, chiseled physique. The heaviness of his dick pressing at her opening.
“Let me in, Princess,” he groaned, taking her hands and pinning them over her head.
Cyanna locked eyes with him and spread her legs open wider.
She’d been wrong about the champagne. She was almost as far gone as he was.
Karys pushed inside her depths, stretching her with every stroke.
With carnal delight in his eyes, he pushed all the way in and watched her come apart and then pull out to do it all over again.
“I-shit,” she moaned. “I – can’t.”
“We don’t run, Princess,” he growled in her ear, grinding in and out, making a mess of her over the comforter. “I can’t hear you.”
“The house…people,” she moaned. “Ya-”
“I told you, I don’t give a fuck about none of that. Come apart, I’ll put you back together.”
Cyanna wrapped her legs around him and accepted every inch of him. Every stroke, every growl of Princess sent her further over the edge. Far past the guilt of cheating. Past the anxiety of what this meant. And for tonight, while he was making her his finally, they both delighted in acceptance.