Let Me Love You (McClain Brothers Book 1)

by Alexandria House

  *****

  The way you shakin’ it make me wanna stop and frisk

  Change your last name

  And freeze your wrists

  Smack you on the ass

  And then give it a kiss

  Slide inside and make you moan and hiss

  Stop, stop, stop and frisk!

  Stop, stop, stop and frisk!

  Stop, stop, stop and frisk!

  Keep shaking that ass and you’ll be running a risk…

  I was sweaty, having spent the entire show on my feet jamming to the beats and my man’s bars. Shit, I even vibed to those Southbound songs included on the set list. After attending so many shows and having heard those songs numerous times, they’d grown on me. And armed with the truth of what ended his marriage and realizing Southbound was the first album he released after the divorce, I understood the songs better. Had a clearer idea of where his head was. Everett was hurting, and those songs were his therapy. Some seemed disorganized and random, but it was art, his art, and I loved it just like I loved everything else about him. But I was glad he took my advice and removed that one song with the damn shrieking in the background from the set list. That one freaked me completely out and honestly killed the vibe of the entire show.

  “Aye! Aye! Ayeeeee!” Bridgette shouted with raised arms as she shook her booty to the beat of my man’s biggest hit.

  I grinned at her as I pumped my fist, and yelled, “South! South! South!” with the crowd as Everett moved from one side of the stage to the other, holding the mic with one hand and shading his eyes with the other.

  “I see y’all out there shaking them asses! Which one of y’all want me to come frisk your ass right now?”

  The women in the crowd filled the arena with squeals, including Sage’s simple ass. I glared at her and she shrugged.

  “Come on, y’all! Let me see you shake it like you getting paid to! Go! Go! Go!” Everett urged.

  The crowd went wild. Hell, I even saw some dudes twerking. It was insane!

  As the music was lowered, Everett stood in the middle of the stage with a big smile on his face. “LA, I gotta say, this is the best show of the best tour of my life. Y’all showed my ass all kinds of love. Almost twenty years in this business and y’all still buying tickets, buying my music, still rolling with my old ass, and I appreciate it!”

  Some chick behind me yelled, “Big South! You so damn fine! Shit!”

  We were in a special section, surrounded by celebrities—Sage’s ass had pointed every last one of them out to us by shouting stuff like, “Bitch, is that Luke James?” or “Ho’, I know that ain’t LeBron!” or “Nigguuuuuuh, that’s Amber Rose!” So that meant the heifer was probably a star. I didn’t turn around to see, though, because that big fine negro onstage was mine. I had no doubts about that. He made sure I didn’t.

  “Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh—” I was cut off as his mouth found mind. His tongue, the one he used to smoothly convey his lyrics, moved crudely in my mouth as he grasped the front of my neck with one hand, squeezed my breast with the other, and pummeled my sex relentlessly, sliding in and out of me at a frantic pace. It all felt so…wonderful.

  “Motherfucking pussy so good! Damn, Jo!” he yelled, once his mouth left mine. Then he kissed my freckles, my forehead, and my mouth again.

  “Everett! Ohhhh!!” I was perched on a table in his dressing room at the Staples Center because he evidently couldn’t wait until we got to my house to attack me.

  “I love you! You know that? I love you, Jo!”

  I heard him, heard every syllable he spoke, but everything was so foggy due to the surge of pressure in my core. Shit, I couldn’t think to respond, could barely remember to breathe. I slammed my hands behind me on the table, bracing myself as I released a groan from the pit of my soul when my orgasm crested, muting all sounds and numbing every part of my body except my yoni.

  My back hit the table, and I felt his big hands grab my legs and position them on his shoulders as he deepened his thrusts, shouting my name with each plunge, deep grooves in his forehead as he stared down at me like I was a wonder or something that was too good to be true. When he began to explode, he picked me up like I was a doll or one of Nat’s stuffed animals, held me to him, and whimpered into my ear.

  When things had quieted down and I’d almost caught my breath, I said, “I’ll never understand how you can have enough energy to do that after spending two hours on that stage. You’re a machine.” Wrapping my arms around his sweaty neck, I laid my head against his.

  He chuckled. “Never had stamina like this before. Must be the pussy.”

  “Humph. I’m beginning to think that’s all you like about me. I bet if you could detach it from my body, you would and just leave me behind.”

  This time he threw his head back and laughed. “Naw, baby. I love all of you. But this thang I’m in right now is one of my favorite parts.”

  “Mm-hmm. You got me weak now, though. Legs shaking and stuff. You might have to carry me out of here.”

  “You know I will. I’ll carry you to the end of the earth, baby.”

  And he did. After we got ourselves together, he let me ride piggyback all the way through the arena to our waiting car with both of us giggling like a couple of kids.

  23

  “You ‘bout to run out of pineapples.”

  I looked up from the papers I’d been studying to see Everett standing in front of the open refrigerator door. “I am?”

  “Yeah, you got like two fruit cups and one container of the fresh one you cut up the other day left.”

  “That’s because you keep eating them up.”

  He shrugged and pulled the container of fresh pineapples out. “I like ‘em, too.”

  “That’s obvious.” I returned my attention to the menus littering the kitchen counter. “What does Ella like? Chinese, Indian, Mexican, burgers?”

  I could hear him rummage in the silverware drawer, yank the top off the container, and move closer to me. Seconds later, a pineapple chunk speared on a fork was held before my face. As I opened my mouth to accept it, Everett replied, “Pizza, like every other teenager in America.”

  “Any special kind?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I told you I’d take care of it.”

  “But it’s my house. I’m hosting this little dinner. Shouldn’t I contribute somehow? I wish I could cook…”

  He set the container down. “You contribute by making her daddy happy, and when I’m happy, she’s happy. Stop worrying. It’s gonna be a good night. And you don’t need to know how to cook when your man is rich,” he said, before covering my lips with his.

  I backed away a bit, separating my mouth from his. “She doesn’t like me, probably because her mother doesn’t. I could tell when she flew out to your concert that time, even though she tried to be nice. It was like she didn’t want me there,” I rambled, ignoring his reassurances.

  “She’s territorial and spoiled as hell, has never known me to have a real girlfriend and is not familiar with having to share me with anyone, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you. She just doesn’t know you, Jo, but once she does, she’ll love you as much as I do.”

  I sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

  He leaned in and kissed my neck, wrapping his arms around me. “You know I am. Hey, why don’t you take your panties off right quick?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Why? Nat’s taking a nap, right? I won’t be loud. You can gag me if you want. Stuff your panties in my mouth after you take them off.”

  “Do you realize you’ve been asking me to do that since that one time I did it a few weeks ago? I think your freaky ass liked it. I only did it because I couldn’t find anything else to use and you were gonna get us kicked out of that hotel.”

  He grinned down at me with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, but that shit was sexy as hell. The way you shimmied out of them motherfuckers and put them in my mouth? Damn! Look what thinking about that did to me.” Grabbing my hand, he
placed it on his groin.

  “Everett, I’m on my period. You know that.”

  “And you know I give no fucks about that.”

  I had opened my mouth to reply when the doorbell rang.

  “Unh-uh. They can leave a message,” he said, refusing to release me.

  “It’s the door, not the phone.”

  “I know.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Let me go, old man.”

  He loosened his grip on me, and as he followed me to the door, said, “I guess you don’t want no more of this old dick then, huh?”

  Giving him a smirk, I said, “You tripping.”

  I checked the peephole, opened the door, and jumped when Bridgette shouted, “You’re pregnant?!”

  “You are?! I thought you just said you were on your period?!” Everett yelled from behind me. His big super-sized ass was panicking. It’d been his idea for us to get tested while we were in North Carolina, or was it South Carolina? Shit, we traveled to so many places while I was on tour with him, I can’t remember. But anyway, he suggested we get tested so we could stop using condoms since I was on birth control, and now he looked like he was about to lose it thinking I was somehow pregnant.

  “You didn’t tell South, either?! That’s foul, Jo!” Bridgette shrieked.

  “It sure in the hell is!” Everett agreed. “How you gonna keep this from me?”

  “From us!” Bridgette yelled.

  “Hey! Would y’all calm the hell down before you wake Nat up? I am not pregnant. I have a damn IUD. Bridgette, you of all people know I don’t do slip-ups. Nat was planned; Sid and I made a conscious decision to conceive her. He just changed his mind later. Furthermore, I’m bleeding like two stuck pigs right now. Ev, you are welcome to check if you think I’m lying.”

  “You know I will,” he replied.

  “Eww, that’s just nasty,” Bridgette groaned.

  Everett shrugged with a sheepish grin on his face.

  “And you think I’d actually keep something like this from you? Really, Ev?”

  “Naw—I mean, she’s your best friend. I thought she was a reliable source. You-you mad at me now, baby?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shit. Thanks, Bridgette, for getting me cut off,” Everett said.

  “And for starting shit up in here,” I added.

  “My bad,” Bridgette said, with a crazy look on her face.

  I sighed. “Look, we’ll talk about this later, Everett.”

  Leaning in so that only I could hear him, he whispered, “You could punish me by gagging me with your panties and doing that thing you do with your tongue.”

  “You wish, with your broken record ass.” I didn’t bother to whisper.

  Kissing me on the cheek, he said,” I’ma go take a nap. Feel free to join me.”

  “No thank you,” I retorted.

  “Your loss. Dunn is supposed to be bringing me something. Wake me up when he gets here.”

  “Okay.”

  When he was out of earshot, Bridgette asked, “Damn, his ass live here now, don’t he? Sid okay with that?”

  I glared at her. “Yes, he lives here now and fuck Sid.”

  She raised her hands. “My bad. Sorry for mentioning him.”

  “Mm-hmm, and where did you get the false information that I was pregnant?”

  “Girl, all the blogs are on Instagram talking about it.”

  “Well, they don’t know what they’re talking about. My uterus is vacant, and like I said, you should know me better than that. Me and Everett haven’t been together that long, and I’ma have to have a ring and some vows exchanged before I have any more babies.”

  Following me to the living room sofa, she said, “Yeah, I forgot about your little rules: no sex on the first date, no babies outside of marriage. But y’all sho’ up in here screwing up a storm outside of marriage.”

  “I’m not going to pretend I don’t have needs, so I don’t have a rule against that.”

  “Hell, neither do I, and yet I remain dick-less.”

  “That’s on you. You’re the one who won’t date.”

  “Yeah, whatever. What happened to you fixing me up with South’s brother?”

  “Ev won’t let me. Says his brother’s a militant alcoholic gambler and he ain’t gon’ have me mad at him if Neil be asking you for money and stuff.”

  “Huh? A militant alcoholic gambler? That shit don’t even go together.”

  “That’s what I told him.”

  She fell against the back of the sofa and sighed. “Well, I’m happy for you. You got it going on. Got Big South wrapped around your little finger.”

  I sucked my teeth. “No, I don’t.”

  “Girl, please. That man is gone over you, and you are gone over him, too. Talking marriage and stuff. I remember after Sid left, you said you’d probably never get married again.”

  “I’m not talking marriage, I just said I’ll have to be married before I have another baby.”

  “Which means you see it as a possibility now.”

  The doorbell rang again. And the next thing I knew, Everett was rushing past us to the door.

  “I thought you were taking a nap,” I said.

  “Couldn’t sleep without you in there with me.”

  “Awwww,” Bridgette crooned.

  I fought not to smile and failed.

  Unsurprisingly, Nat appeared in the living room rubbing her eyes, her little yellow dress twisted on her body. Her eyes lit up when she saw Bridgette, and she quickly climbed into her lap, leaning against her chest.

  “Man, she’s getting bigger and prettier every time I see her,” Bridgette observed.

  I nodded. “Yeah, she’s growing up fast.”

  “Hey, baby. Come out here a second.” Everett was outside but peeking in the door. I gave Bridgette an amused look as Nat scrambled out of her lap and ran to him, yelling his name the whole way.

  “Dang,” Bridgette said.

  “Don’t feel bad. She puts me down for him, too. She is crazy about her some Ebbwitt.”

  Bridgette laughed as Everett picked Nat up and kissed her forehead. “Looks like he’s crazy about her, too.”

  “Oh, he is.”

  “Nat, tell your mama to come on,” Everett said.

  Holding on to his neck, she replied, “No. I want Ebbwitt! Let’s go!”

  “But your mama gotta come, too, Nat.”

  She shook her head. “No. I wanna go with Ebbwitt.”

  As I met them at the door with a nosy-ass Bridgette right behind me, I wrinkled my nose up at Nat, and mumbled, “Traitor.”

  As soon as I stepped outside, I gasped and clasped a hand over my mouth.

  Bridgette shrieked, “Oh my God!!”

  Nat roared and giggled for no apparent reason.

  And Everett asked, “You like it?”

  I stepped closer to it, my eyes lifting from the customized license plate on the front that read: Jo’s, to the big red bow on the hood, to the rest of the SUV—a brand new, black Mercedes AMG G65.

  I turned to face him with wide eyes. “Everett, uh…what did you do?”

  “I bought you a truck,” he said, as if he’d just gone out and bought me an ice cream cone.

  “But why? I didn’t need a car.”

  “Jo, you said just the other day you wished you had a bigger car and how hard it is getting Nat in and out of her car seat because that Lexus is so small and only has two doors.”

  “Yeah, but I coulda bought myself one. You didn’t need to do it for me.”

  “I wanted to,” he said, then asked Nat, “You like your mama’s new car?”

  “New car!” Nat parroted him.

  “It’s too much. You went overboard. You always go overboard and—”

  “Jo, I know if Ms. April Curry didn’t teach you nothing else, she taught you to say thank you. So say thank you,” Bridgette chastised me.

  I knew I was being difficult and that the price of this vehicle, even at more than two hundred thousand dollars,
didn’t hurt Everett’s pockets; it was just hard for me to accept gifts period, let alone something this big. But he knew that about me. That was why he was standing there waiting patiently for me to think through it, to process what he’d done.

  So I finally walked over to him, slid under his free arm while he held Nat with the other, and said, “Thank you.”

  He kissed my forehead. “You’re welcome, baby. It’s customized just for you. Even got adjustable peddles for your short legs.”

  “You making fun of my legs?”

  “No, I love your legs. You know I do. But they are short as hell.”

  “Short as hell!” Nat screamed. Those words were clearer than anything I’d ever heard her say.

  I shook my head. “See what you did? Got my baby cursing.”

  He looked so embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I forgot. Don’t say that, Nat. That’s a bad word.”

  “Short as hell! Short as hell! Short as hell!” she gleefully repeated as Everett turned and walked back in the house, begging her to stop.

  Dinner was a damn disaster.

  Ella was fine when I picked her up from her mom’s but was full of attitude from the moment we stepped into Jo’s house. She barely spoke to her, turned her nose up at her house, and nibbled at her food in silence, basically ignoring Jo’s attempts to make conversation with her. I was pissed but could deal with all of that. It was when she rolled her eyes at Nat when she tried to share her pizza with her that I almost lost it. That was when I realized just how much like her mother she really was and knew I should’ve fought for joint custody when she was smaller. At the time, I was working like a madman and thought Esther could provide a more stable environment for her and that visitation would work better for me. Now I could see letting Esther take the lead on raising her had been a huge mistake.