Let Me Love You (McClain Brothers Book 1)

by Alexandria House

  Screw that.

  And fuck Sidney “Bugz-NYC” Walker.

  For real.

  Seriously…FUCK HIM.

  Yeah, he sucker-punched me by releasing that footage after giving me the impression that he had two or three percent common sense left in his brain, but screw that and screw him.

  Majorly.

  This shouldn’t have come as a surprise anyway. Sid was nothing if not a flip-flopping fool.

  I rolled over in bed and faced the ceiling, my mind meandering to thoughts of my mother and how I hated her, like actually despised her, when she ended up being committed. I hated her for being a fool for my father and for being too weak to get over him and move on. The emotion was misplaced, but all I knew at the time was that I needed her and she was unavailable to me and that made me angry. I didn’t want Nat to hate me for the same reason. I also didn’t want to lose Everett but had common sense enough to know I was wearing him out. My depression was real—painfully, paralyzingly real. But so was my resolve, my strength, and my determination. My current situation gave me a newfound understanding of my mom’s plight, but lying in that bed with nothing to do but think and think some more, showed me how greatly my situation differed from hers. Unlike my mother, I had friends and I had a man who’d walk through fire for me. I was fortunate, blessed, and it was time for me to return to the land of the living. I’d spent enough time feeling sorry for myself. More than enough, and no matter how long I stayed buried beneath these covers, this wasn’t going away.

  I wasn’t the first woman something like this ever happened to, and I undoubtedly wouldn’t be the last. Like old Frank Sinatra once said, “The best revenge is massive success.” I was going to take this mess and flip it, build one hell of a career out of it like Everett said. If that video and those pictures were going to keep circulating the internet, I was going to find a way to benefit from it. I was going to become more famous than Sid. Yeah, that was how I was going to handle this cluster fuck. I was going to turn these nasty-ass lemons into some bomb-ass lemonade.

  Game. On.

  I’d kicked the covers off my legs and was about to head to the shower and wash my ass when Everett burst through the bedroom door.

  “Baby, listen,” he began, “shit is fucked up. I get that. You’re embarrassed, worried about folks seeing you in the most compromising position. But fuck people! Seeing those pictures doesn’t mean they know you. I know you, your friends know you, and we gonna love you regardless. That’s all that matters. Fuck the rest. And Nat? She knows her mom. When she’s old enough to know about this shit, she’ll have lived with you being her mother for years and there’s nothing you won’t be able to explain to her. Bugz is the damn villain here, not you! You ain’t got a damn thing to be ashamed of. You were doing what comes natural when you love someone. She’ll understand that.”

  I sat up on the side of the bed. “Ev—”

  “It’s time to fight. You’re tougher than this, been through worse shit before. You gotta pull yourself out of that damn pit and fight! Fight for Nat! Shit, fight for us because I feel like I’m losing you, like you’re slipping through my fingers right before my eyes and ain’t nothing I can do about it. I love you, Jo, and I miss you. I miss the fuck out of your mean ass. I need my Jo back.”

  “Baby—”

  “We gonna sue that motherfucker and we’re gonna go on with our life together. I ain’t letting you lay up in here no more even if I have to carry your ass around the house all day. I mean that shit!”

  “Okay.”

  He shook his head. “I ain’t tryna hear that shit, Jo. You need a counselor or therapist to help you get past this? Fine. I’ll pay a motherfucker to live in here and talk to you twenty-four-seven. Whatever it takes! I need my damn woman back!”

  “All right.”

  “See, you still on that bullshit! Look! You need to get up out that bed and come downstairs and get something to eat. Your pineapple levels probably all low and shit…”

  “Pineapple levels?”

  He nodded, staring at me with the most serious look on his face. “Yeah.”

  I stood on weak legs and ambled over to him, leaning against his big body. “Baby, I said okay. You’re right. I have to get out of this bed and live again. I’m ready, and I’m sorry for checking out on you. I just…couldn’t deal. But I know not dealing isn’t an option when you have a child to take care of and a man who needs your attention. I’m still upset and sad, but you’re right. It’s time to fight. I’m ready to fight.”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “Shit, for real?”

  “Yep.”

  “Thank you,” he breathed, as he rested his chin atop my head.

  “Thank you for not killing Sid and getting taken away from me. Wait, you didn’t kill him or have him killed, did you?”

  “No.”

  “But I know you wanted to.”

  “Still do.”

  “Please don’t. If I lose you to jail or whatever, I won’t recover. I know I won’t.”

  “Baby, that mother—”

  “We’ll sue him, like you said. If he loses his money, that’s the same as killing him. He loves money more than anything.”

  Rubbing his hand up and down my back, he mumbled. “I’ll try not to kill him.”

  “Try real hard for Nat.”

  “You’re wrong for bringing her up. That was low. You know she’s my heart, just like Ella is.”

  “Mm-hmm. That’s why I brought her up. Uh…where is she right now?”

  “I just put her down for a nap.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Well, since you being all agreeable and shit, I’ma hire a cook. Can’t keep eating out like this.”

  “All right,” I assented.

  “Word? Okay, and you’re gonna come to the studio and sing on this track I been working on.”

  “Nope. Not gonna happen.”

  “Damn, I had to try.”

  “Uh-huh…hey, would you be mad if I never gave you head again?”

  His body stiffened. “Huh?”

  “After all that’s happened, that video—I just don’t feel comfortable sucking dick anymore. You understand, right?”

  “Um…what?”

  I placed my hand on his groin and felt him instantly harden. “I can’t suck your penis, this penis, anymore, baby. I can’t put it in my mouth and lick that one vein that runs up the back of it or twirl my tongue around it or scrape my teeth over it real gently or get all sloppy with it like you love for me to do. I can’t do any of that anymore. It would just be too hard, bring back painful memories, you know? You’re okay with that, aren’t you?”

  He backed away from me with a look of horror on his face. “Damn…um, I ain’t gonna record it or nothing, baby, if that’s what you’re worried about. I mean…I mean, are you serious, Jo?”

  I dropped to my knees, tugged on the waistband of his jogging pants, and said, “Nope.”

  As I pulled his super erection out of his pants and watched it bounce in front of my face, he said, “Your ass need to stop playing so damn much.”

  “Oh, wait,” I said, standing and walking over to the nightstand on my side of the bed.

  “Wait? I just told you to stop playing. How I’ma wait and you got me all hard?”

  I ignored him, digging in the drawer and quickly finding what I was looking for. Turning around, I held it by one end of its rapper and dangled it between my fingers as I made my way back to him.

  “A cough drop? You ‘bout to do the cough drop thing? Shit!” he said. Then he snatched his t-shirt off and stuffed it in his mouth.

  “Love at first sight?” I repeated part of the interviewer, Dev’s, question. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly. I’d say for me, it was fascination at first sight. From the moment I met Jo, she intrigued me because she clearly wasn’t impressed by me. I don’t think she liked me at all.”

  Dev shifted her amused eyes to Jo. “Really?”

  Jo shrugged. “He was kind of
douchy at first. I won’t go into how, but he was on his Big South stuff and I wasn’t feeling it. He changed my mind, though.”

  I smiled, not just at her words, but because during this Essence interview, Jo once again proved what I already knew about her—she was a boss. She never belonged under Peter Park’s thumb or in Bugz-NYC’s background. Despite all the bullshit that came with being in the public eye, that was where she belonged.

  “So you worked some magic on her, Big South?”

  I shook my head as I squeezed Jo’s hand. “I just showed her who I am, introduced her to Everett McClain. She seems to like him.”

  Jo leaned in and kissed me. “Correction, I love Everett McClain.”

  “You know I love Jo Lena Walker.”

  “Aww, you two really are the cutest thing, but I know things have not been easy. I’ve read the blogs. Jo, from day one you were pegged a gold digger because of your association with two high profile men. And most recently, you’ve been dealing with the revenge porn scandal. I know there’s a pending law suit, so you can’t say much about the video of you and your ex-husband, Bugz-NYC, but I want to give you a chance to address all the things that have been reported about you, to set the record straight.”

  Jo blew out a breath, bit her bottom lip, and sighed. We were in our formal living room, studio lights glaring at us as the interview was being recorded and snippets of it would be posted on the Essence website. We had done our photo shoot for the cover and spread days earlier, and now, with Christmas fast approaching, we were sitting down to tell our story.

  “Well,” Jo finally said, “I’m not sure anything I say will make that much of a difference. If I have learned anything since being in this relationship, it’s that people will believe what they want to believe, no matter the evidence staring them in the face. I could sit here and try to convince you and the world at large that I’m not a gold digger, that I love the man sitting next to me, that I’m just a regular girl who somehow attracts who I attract, but what I’m going to do instead is address the everyday girl who suffers from the impact of rumors and conjecture. I want to tell her to do what I have decided to do: Hold your head up and live your life to the fullest in spite of what anyone thinks they know about you. You prove people wrong with actions, not with words. Sure, what people say about you will hurt, but it won’t kill you unless you let it. In my case, while they’re saying what they’re saying and thinking what they’re thinking, I’m still gonna be wearing this ring, living in this house, sleeping in bed beside this man, making money moves, being a boss and a mother. They ain’t stopping nothing. I won’t let them.”

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and squeezed her to me. I was proud as hell of my Jo Lena. Proud as hell.

  37

  “I can’t believe I’m here! Girl, this place is packed with famous folks!” Bridgette whisper-yelled.

  I frowned at her. “It’s my engagement party, where else you think your ass was supposed to be?”

  “I know, but still…”

  “And anyway, you deserve a night of fun. We’ve been working hard the last month or so.”

  “Shit, don’t I know it! Who knew a sex tape and some nudes could drum up this much business for a person? I mean, damn!”

  I nodded. “It’s nuts.” It really was crazy how many folks wanted to do business with me as a result of me being exposed. It was almost disturbing to think about it. In addition to the Glam On It deal, which hadn’t missed a beat despite the video mess, I’d signed on to rep the “Melanated and Unbothered” t-shirt line, had negotiated a partnership with Coily-Q hair care, and was working on my sneaker line with S.H.E. The best part about it was that I was having fun making these moves. It didn’t really feel like work. The added bonus was I was earning my own money, too. Of course Everett had my back, actually loved taking care of me, I still had a chunk of money saved up from my divorce settlement, and Sid never missed a child support payment, but Everett was right—there’s nothing like a woman who makes her own money.

  “Hey, you been working on your passport? Ms. Sherry got hers.”

  Bridgette nodded. “Yes! I should have it in time for the tour. This assistant shit is lit! I get to follow you and South around the damn world!”

  “When he works, I work. But when we play, your ass is gonna have to find something to do.”

  “Don’t nobody wanna be around y’all freaky asses no way. I can’t wait to hop on your Christmas gift, though, and finally get out of the states!”

  “Yeah, Everett was extra as hell for buying that jet.”

  “And putting it in your name. Girrrrllll, I like that kinda extra!”

  “I guess, but it made that Patek watch I got him look like a Timex.”

  “You complaining?”

  “Hell, no!”

  Bridgette laughed. “Hey, I’m glad you’re good now. You had me scared there for a while. I was so afraid I was gonna lose you over Sid’s bullshit.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m fine, though.” I pointed my champagne flute toward Everett who was standing across the ballroom talking to his brother Nolan—or it could’ve been Neil since I had trouble telling them apart—and Michael B. Jordan, of all people. “How could I not be fine when I get to lay up under that every night.”

  “Bay-bee! And now that I’ve seen that extra shmedium dick Sid got, I know your ass is more than fine with that monstrosity you say Everett is working with!”

  I loudly guffawed like we weren’t in the elegant ballroom of a high-end hotel. “You are a fool, Bridgette! Extra shmedium?! Monstrosity?!”

  “Yeah! And I can’t believe Sid had the audacity to cheat with that starter dick!”

  I fell out laughing at that, gathered my composure, and said, “Speaking of dicks…”

  “Nope. Not going there. There’s nothing to tell.”

  “You and Tommy were joined at the hip during Thanksgiving. It’s damn January! Are you ever gonna tell me what’s going on with you two?”

  “No.”

  “Ho’.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Okay, I see how it is. That’s cool, Bridgette. Be that way.”

  “Ughhhh! Stop with the guilt-tripping! Look, we had fun in Texas, a lot of fun, but I don’t have time for anything serious right now between pursuing my career and being your assistant.”

  “Then you’re fired.”

  “Shidddd, where?”

  I rolled my eyes. “So you two are over? You haven’t talked or anything since Houston?” Tommy was sweet and actually really cute. Humongous, but cute. In my opinion, Bridgette was straight tripping.

  “Oh, I didn’t say that. We still screwing, just with no strings attached. Girl, he got it going on!”

  “Wow.”

  “Good, your man’s coming this way, so you can leave me alone.”

  “You still owe me details, considering I share everything about me and Everett with you.”

  “Hell, he’s Big South. The whole world knows everything about y’all.”

  “You know what I meant. Petty ass.”

  “Just call me Petty Davis. Anyway, since your man is coming over here, I’ma go peel Sage off Ice Cube’s fine-ass son.” Bridgette slid away from me, greeting Everett as he approached.

  He grinned at me, reaching for my hand. “They’re playing our song. Let’s dance.”

  “Since when did The Weekend become our song? What you tryna tell me? You bet-not have a ho’ on the side.”

  “I ain’t got no woman on the side. Bring your crazy ass on out here so we can dance,” he said, grasping my hand.

  I followed him, because he had on white pants and a white dress shirt and he was looking like three whole snacks, but I still asked, “How is this our song, Everett James McClain.?”

  As he pulled me into his arms on the dance floor, he replied, “Hell, I was just saying something. I didn’t even recognize the song; I just heard something we could slow dance to and came for you. Now stop tripping. I’m up under your little-mea
n-sexy-ass all the time. Ain’t fucked up about nobody else.” His hand slid from my back to my butt. “Can’t wait to get you home and test your pineapple levels.”

  “You been testing them for over a month now. I think they’re good.”

  “They sure in the hell are.”

  We did so much bumping and grinding and rubbing to the song that by the time it ended, my cookie was completely water-logged, so as we left the dancefloor, I asked, “Why don’t you get us a room upstairs?”

  His eyebrows peaked. “You ready like that?”

  I nodded. “I’m wet as the Pacific Ocean right now.”

  “Be right back.”

  “Where you going?”

  “To get a room.”

  I mingled with people, sipped the Matador Everett had ordered for me, and was laughing at Shirl’s report of Peter Park’s latest beat down—in the lobby of Bijou Park—at the hands of one of his side chicks this time, not his wife, when I realized it was taking Everett way longer than it should’ve to get a room. Then I noticed Ella sitting alone at a table and decided to see how she was since she was looking a little forlorn. We’d been kind of sort of getting along since the Houston debacle, so I felt okay approaching her.

  “Hey,” I said, “you having a good time?”

  She nodded, giving me a smile. “Yeah, just texted Tommy. He’s pulling the truck around and then he’s gonna come in here and get me.”

  “Leaving?”

  She nodded again, took a sip of something I hoped was non-alcoholic, and replied, “Yes. I have this brunch thing me and M-Mom have to go to. We’re shooting it for the show. Gotta be up early for hair and makeup.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, I’m glad you came. Hope you enjoyed yourself. Your dad said you liked your Christmas gift.” She’d spent Christmas with her mother, but Everett had given her our joint gift a few days early—the newest iPhone.