A Savage Kinda Love

by Kiki Leach

  "Yeah, some shit like that; off the books and whatnot to keep me from getting held up like him." He swallowed hard while lowering his eyes between us; he blinked a few times and knit his brows. "It's part of the reason my name being anywhere near the money could get us both fucked up and leave me with nothing." His eyes lifted back to mine as he exhaled. "I wanna marry you to save us both from anymore of this bullshit."

  "You want more than that, which is a problem for me because I don't want to see where things go once we finally get what we need from each other; I don't want to need you as much as I need that money."

  "Would it be so goddamn bad if you did?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?" He made a face. "That kinda shit scare you or something? Needing a motherfucker?"

  "No, but..." I stopped as he shifted closer to me and grit his teeth. I gulped and dropped back. "I just don't want to feel that way about you -- or anyone else right now for that matter. That's all."

  "What are you feeling for me right now, Cheyenne?"

  "I..." My voice broke and lowered in tone as the nerves returned. "I don't know."

  "I think you do, baby, just like with the other shit." As he continued staring into my eyes, I could feel the heat flushing between us like a volcano on the verge of complete eruption; I was the rock willing to melt beneath the weight of his molten lava. "I don't wanna step on anymore toes than I have already," he said, "but we both know that without us helping each other on this shit, it won't end well."

  "The timing of us being married is less ideal than your being in here, Nikko."

  "No shit's ideal, baby -- probably wouldn't be either way. But it's also something we can figure out as it goes along, just like you wanting to go back to school.... I won't stop you from heading back out there if it's what you really want. And I won't keep you as my wife for any time longer than you're willing to wear the ring or my last name."

  "Is that a new set of promises you're making to me inside the walls of a prison?" He nodded with a grin that lit up his entire face like a thousand watt bulb. "But you're still wanting the 'perks' of what would come in me being your wife?"

  "For the time being, like I said, yeah." His eyes turned to liquid while lowering back down to my breasts. "You are sexy as fuck, baby," he muttered through a groan. "Not just your face."

  My stomach dropped as my sex became slick with an unmatched desire for him.

  I cleared my throat and shook my head. "Aren't there cameras all over this room?"

  "I don't give a fuck about that shit either. Unless you want this moment between us documented or something?"

  "No."

  He returned to my face and chortled. "You agree to make this shit official between us?"

  "You agree to officially give me what I need when I need it and how, and that's it?"

  "I'll give you any goddamn thing you could ever want from me, Cheyenne -- at any motherfucking time you ever wanna have it. And I'll do it without you having to beg me for it--"

  "I don't beg."

  "Yeah, baby, we'll see." As he stepped closer, I inhaled a shaky breath. He extended his hand.

  I frowned. "What are you doing?"

  "The only way I know you won't back down from this shit as soon as you walk outta the goddamn door."

  "I won't back down from anything that I agreed to, and--"

  He lifted his hand even higher and tipped his head while arching his left brow. "I won't bite unless you ask me for it."

  "I won't."

  "Yeah, baby. We'll see about that shit too." A low chuckle followed as he wagged his fingers. I slid my palm against his with some reluctance and held my breath. His skin was insanely soft, which was unexpected, almost like that of a newborn baby despite how rough it looked; but it also felt like a block of ice despite my body becoming ridiculously warm to his touch. His eyes remained hard and focused on mine as he gently squeezed my hand while moving it up and down in motion with his own, only stopping to brush his thumb along each of my knuckles. I shivered at the electrifying sensation of his touch coursing throughout my entire being like a lightning rod to metal. "If my old man manages to get me outta here by the end of the week as promised, we should start planning for this as soon as goddamn possible."

  "I agree."

  "And I want you staying at my place instead of your own."

  "I don't have a 'place' out here anymore outside of Rox's on the Lower East Side. Where do you live?"

  "One of the Brownstones in Brooklyn."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. Don't seem so goddamn shocked about it." He chortled while tugging me forward. "The place could use some company while I'm still up in here."

  "You mean that you want me moving in there as of what? Today?"

  "That kinda shit would be ideal for me, yeah. Especially if the Feds need to believe I'm getting married by choice and not because I need you putting your name on my old man's money." His grip remained in place as his thumb continued circling the back of my hand.

  "I don't know if it will be today, but I can try for this week."

  "As long as it's before I'm out," he replied. I nodded. "Alright. My old man can get you all the information of where it is and how to get there; give you the keys to get inside and all that other shit. It's only two bedrooms upstairs; you can pick whichever one you wanna sleep in."

  "Thanks--"

  "But there's not a lot of food in the fridge because I don't eat much at home."

  "Okay, but..." I narrowed my eyes and slightly tilted my head in question. "Do you really believe that Chino is going to get you out of here as fast as he claims?"

  "I do."

  "Why?"

  "Because he's got the connections to make it happen; more so now that you've agreed to become my wife once I tell him about it."

  "Wife." I laughed and rolled my eyes as he stepped even further into my space and peered.

  "What is it?"

  "The idea of becoming someone's wife at this stage in my life still doesn't sit all too well with me, even for this; that's all."

  "You'll be sure in getting used to it before long."

  "And you know this because you've been married to someone else before now?"

  "No," he replied in a low voice. "Before all this shit, I had never planned on it for myself; maybe if I was near my old man's age."

  "Why is that?"

  "Because I never wanted to be tied down to anything outside of myself before. A solid commitment to one person? Not something that's ever been in my blood."

  "Then you're a player?"

  "No, baby, I'm open in every stage of my game."

  I eyed him as the curiosity of who he was as a man began to enrapture me, and leaned back on my heels while staring. "Do you mind if I ask why you're attracted to black women in particular?" I blurted.

  "What?" His hand jolted against mine, then loosened as his skin finally warmed to the equivalency of a blaze gone rogue. "Where the fuck did that shit come from?"

  "Your father," I told him.

  "My old man said that shit to you?"

  "Not in so many words, but he mentioned something about me having the kind of 'look' you go for in a woman, which would mean less questions from people on the outside who might take this whole thing as the farce that it is otherwise."

  "Baby, I'm not attracted to any kind of woman in particular," he said, his Adam's apple bobbing in what seemed to be a long lasting gulp. "What I like is what I like when I like it."

  "And now you like me."

  "So far, yeah. From what I've gotten to see and hear..."

  "That isn't much."

  "Could be more once this shit is over with; once I'm outta here and we've had more private time together... away from all the bullshit and noise from other people." His brow lifted in sync with the corner of his mouth as he leered.

  I lowered my eyes to our hands in order to avoid his deep, sharpening gaze and swallowed hard as I could feel my breasts swelling by the second; my stomach jumped as
an unfamiliar ache filled my chest. "We should've been done with this a while ago," I mumbled.

  "If I were interested in letting you go, I'd agree on that shit. But I'm not just yet, so I won't."

  "Do you plan on holding me in this position forever?"

  "I plan on putting you in another that we'd both manage to enjoy the fuck out of a lot more than this one."

  "My God," I replied through a range of nervous laughter as tiny goosebumps formed across every inch of my skin. He was turning me on like crazy, and it was pissing me off like mad. "You are something else."

  "Is that shit good or bad for you?"

  "I don't know yet."

  "Maybe you need some help in figuring it all out."

  "And you plan on being the one in helping to make that happen?"

  "If need be, yeah. Unless you had another motherfucker in mind for it--?"

  "No."

  "Good." He pressed his palm against mine as his pulse thumped, and jerked me to him, close enough for me to taste the warmth of his breath on my tongue as soon as my lips parted in a gasp. He tasted like sex and sin; hunger and thirst. I was starving and he knew how much. "You know that you look like you taste good as fuck on top of everything else?" He bent his face toward mine and rolled the tip of his tongue along the center of his bottom lip, leaving his skin to glisten beneath the light. "Goddamn." As he stared into my eyes, I felt myself leaning into him so much more than I knew was appropriate. "You gonna let me taste you once I'm outta here?"

  "Taste me where?" He grinned. I flared my nostrils as a warm desire for him erupting from within forced my nipples to harden and press against my bra and shirt. "No." I gulped.

  "Mm." He wet both lips this time and groaned. "You're a goddamn liar, baby."

  "How so?"

  "Because I can see it written all over your face right now," he said, "can see it in those heavy, swollen tits you're tryna hide from me... a pair I'm all too eager to know the taste of."

  "You won't have a chance."

  He snickered. "The lust for me in your eyes is growing by the second, Cheyenne -- like a motherfuckin' inferno... and the fact that you've yet to let go of my hand."

  "You just said that you won't let go of my hand," I breathed. "It's not the other way around."

  "You're fuckin' breathless over me, baby." He chortled. "My grip was no longer tight and your hand remained inside of mine regardless of what I wanted from you. And you still ain't moved shit yet."

  "I fear if I move in one way or another that you'll just grab onto me again, maybe somewhere else that you shouldn't."

  "And that ain't what you want from me?"

  "No."

  "Then leave already, baby -- I'm not stopping you from taking the walk outta here. We decided on what we needed from each other, and that was it?"

  "Yes. So let go of my hand," I told him.

  "You first," he retorted.

  I wanted to let him go in that moment.

  I should've let him go in that moment.

  I didn't, if only because I liked having his grip on me.

  Far too damn much.

  "How do I know for sure that everything you're telling me as far as this marriage goes is legit?" I asked him. "That you won't keep me from school or in all of this for any longer than I need or want?"

  "I promised I wouldn't. But I guess you're gonna have to trust in what I say as much as I'll be forced into doing the same with you."

  "I won't need anymore from you than what's owed to the club."

  "Then we should be good on all this shit."

  "And if we aren't?"

  "We will be." He quietly laughed while lifting my hand to his mouth.

  I gasped as he exhaled. "What are you doing?"

  He hovered over the back of my fingers for a few seconds before flipping my hand over to my palm and studying the lines between my skin. "Memorizing the one part about you that can't be told through a series of lies," he said.

  "What are you talking about? The only thing I wasn't honest about was the sex."

  "You mean in having it?"

  I nodded. "It was with someone I shouldn't have been with; it was terrible and I don't ever want to talk about it."

  "He didn't know what the fuck he was doing?"

  "He knew exactly what he was doing, and I knew exactly why he should've been doing it with someone who wasn't me."

  "Because it didn't make you feel good?"

  "Because I wasn't ready, because it made me feel used and dirty and unwanted." I paused as a flood of memories suddenly trampled all over my mind like the hooves from a horse, and shook my head. "Because I was just a body to a man beneath his thousand dollar sheets and once it was all over, that was that. He went back to his life and I pretended as if that night between us didn't matter."

  "It did though, yeah?"

  "Not in the way it should've. In a way that could've helped me finally move on from whatever the hell it truly was with ease."

  "Sounds like he didn't deserve you."

  "He didn't--"

  "No shit. The kinda motherfucker who could treat a woman like that doesn't deserve anybody," he said. "But sure as hell not a woman like you."

  "What's a woman like me according to you, Nikko?"

  "Strong-willed, kind-hearted; one open to giving me a chance in all this shit despite her fears in doing so."

  "You don't even know me, and that's what you believe?"

  "Show me something different, baby -- show me something more than what I've seen already, and it's possible that I won't. Maybe I'll see something better."

  I smiled up at him without even a second thought as to why I had and replied, "Thank you."

  A knowing smile that sent my mind into complete overdrive crossed his lips; he gently squeezed my hand again. "I wanna know something else from you," he said.

  "What is it?"

  The door swung open before he could respond, forcing him to finally lower his hand from mine and step back; my skin burned from the lack of his touch. "Maybe next time?" He winked at me before turning to the guard and bobbed his head. I nodded as he moved toward the door and folded my arms over my chest to hide just how much my heart began pounding against my ribs. He stopped walking and turned back to me. "I'll let my old man know what's up in the meantime. I don't know if you want him to inform yours or not, but--"

  "No." He pushed his beautifully thick brows together in question. "I mean, I can let him know about it myself, later, along with the Renegades President; maybe sometime tonight -- I'm not sure yet."

  "Alright. Where are you gonna be staying tonight?"

  "My dad's place while attempting to get my things together for yours. Why?"

  "Just wondering, baby. Because my old man will probably stop by to give you all the things you're gonna need for my place like what I told you before."

  "Okay."

  "And you're sure about all this shit? No backing out of it?"

  "Not unless you're suddenly having a change of heart for yourself--?"

  "Not a chance in hell, baby." He flashed a wide, toothy grin that made my pulse wallop, emphasizing that growing bruise on his cheek. "Like I said when I'm outta here, we start planning for all this shit ASAP."

  "Okay," I told him.

  "Good."

  "Let's go, Girabaldi," the guard snapped while pointing toward the hallway.

  Nikko eyed me one last time from head to toe, keeping a soft, lingering focus on my hips with a gaze so entrancing that it could've melted ice, and bit down on his bottom lip before exiting the room.

  As the door closed behind him, I stumbled forward in exhale and slumped back down to my chair like a soggy noodle that had been held over for too damn long inside a pot filled to the rim with boiling water, holding my head in agony and realizing in the blink of an eye that everything I thought I knew to be as temporary as promised was now bound to be anything but from here on out.

  Dammit all to hell.

  I was royally fucked.

>   Chapter Seven

  Faithful Decoy Provided

  As soon as I walked though the front door of my father's Lower East Side complex later that night, the phone from the kitchen began blaring off the hook. I groaned in exhaustion while closing and locking the door, then took in a breath to force myself forward, tossed my keys on a small table near the banister and headed straight for the kitchen.

  After pushing through the swing door, I jumped back and threw a hand over my chest in shock of the man standing before me.

  Nix.

  "What he hell?!" I glowered as the phone suddenly stopped blaring and pointed. "What are you doing here?"

  He spun around to face me while standing in front of the sink and holding onto a giant jar of opened peanut butter, along with a spoon. "Hey, baby girl."

  "Hey." I released the door in annoyance and frowned while moving further into the room. "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked again. "Are you alone?"

  "Yeah." He dropped the spoon into the jar, then solemnly placed it on top of the counter and trudged forward. "Yeah, I'm alone--"

  "What the hell are you doing here--?"

  "Why'd your old man have you head back out to Rikers so goddamn soon after seeing him this morning?"

  "What?"

  He eyed me with question and dragged a hand across his chin in suspicion of my potential answer. "I don't understand what else he could've told you that the rest of us don't already know for ourselves."

  "Did you really come all the way out here just to interrogate me about this?"

  "Yeah I did, baby girl."

  "Why?"

  "Rattlesnake ain't offering up shit else to do with any of it, and I figure it's 'cause he's tryna get your ass involved in something that you should be steering clear from."

  "Like what?"

  "I don't fuckin' know, which is why I'm here asking about it, Cheyenne."

  I sucked in air, then gradually pushed it out in exhale. "He just offered up a few ways for me to get my hands on the money to pay back the club."

  "Which include exactly what?" His face hardened as his eyes searched mine for more answers.

  I brushed past him to cross the room. "I thought Rox made you give back the key to this place when he got locked up?"

  "What he wanted versus what I did are two different goddamn things," he replied. "Much like you avoiding my questions."