As I slid inside of her, hard, I said, “You didn’t tell me you loved me back.”
She closed her eyes, moaning, “I couldn’t at that moment, but you know I do.”
I flipped us over so that I was on top, plunged into her, and said, “But you can say it now.”
“Oooooh, shit…you know I love you, baby.”
I plunged deeper. “Then say it.”
She opened her eyes. “R-R-Ryan…I just did.”
I slid my hand between us and found her clit. “Say it again.”
“Shit! Damn! I love you! I love youuuuuuu!”
She shuddered and went limp with me following closely behind her, and as I rolled over onto the bed beside her, I said, “That’s more like it.”
37
“You look so good, we might not make it through this date,” he whispered in my ear.
We were at Coda, in our favorite corner booth for that week’s R&B night performance by Leon Bridges, and Ryan had already dropped his hand under the table into my lap.
“As much as you paid for these tickets? Plus, we did it twice before we left, once in the shower.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“How is that when you initiated both times?”
He grinned as he moved his hand to unwrap his napkin. I knew what was coming next and tried to tell myself I didn’t want it to happen, but myself wasn’t trying to hear that lie.
“It’s not my fault, because you shouldn’t be so sexy, fine, hot…” He leaned in closer and gently nipped my neck. “Wanna go to the bathroom and handle some business?”
I shook my head. “No, I wanna see this show, so whatever you’re gonna do, you’ll have to do it right here.”
“Mm, I told you you were a freak. If I please you right here, are you gonna please me right here, too?”
“No.”
He spread the napkin in my lap, probably appearing to anyone looking at us to be nothing more than a very attentive mate, not a public coochie slayer. As he slid his hand under the napkin and into my panties, he asked, “Why?”
I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes. “Because—”
“Angela?”
My eyes popped open. “B-Benny?”
Any decent person would’ve stopped what they were doing, but just like in the case with the waiter, Ryan’s indecent ass kept stroking me, making it hard for me to keep my eyes open and focused on my ex.
“Yeah, I thought that was you. You look…great.”
“Doesn’t she?” Ryan agreed, lifting his free hand and offering it to Benny. “Ryan Boyé.”
Benny shook his hand. “Benny Stewart. Ang and I were high school sweethearts.”
Ryan plunged a finger inside of me. “Is that right?”
I released a tiny whimper, closed my eyes again, and rested my head against the back of the booth.
I heard Benny say, “Yeah. Uh, you okay, Angie?”
“Oh, she’s fine. See, right now, I have my hand in her panties and my fingers…well, you can imagine where my fingers are.”
I gasped, partly because of what Ryan had said and partly because I was about a second away from an orgasm.
“Oh, um…” was Benny’s response.
“Yeah, so if you’ll excuse us, I’m pretty sure she’s about to—”
“Ohhhhh,” I moaned. I wasn’t loud, but I wasn’t whispering either, so I was sure Benny had heard me.
My eyes fluttered open, and Ryan smiled as he leaned in to kiss me. “There it is. How’d that feel, baby? Good?” he asked me.
My chest was heaving as I nodded and whined, “Uh-huh.”
“When we get home, it’ll be my turn, right?”
I was in no shape to argue with him, especially since his hand was still in my panties. So I said, “Yes.”
“Uh-um…Joslyn’s waiting for me at our table so I’d better go. It was nice seeing you, Angie.”
I looked up at Benny and sighed as Ryan finally moved his hand. “Mm-hmm.”
After Benny left, I gawked at Ryan in disbelief.
“What?” he asked.
“I cannot believe you told him what you were doing.”
He shrugged. “He wants you back. Now he knows that won’t happen.”
“Ryan, he has a wife and eight thousand kids. I’m the last thing on his mind,” I said, as I dug in my small purse for the wet wipes I kept with me for occasions like this.
Ryan took the wipe from me and shook his head. “I’m a man, baby. I know other men. The way he was looking at you? He wants you back. I had to let him know to back the hell off.”
“By telling him we were committing a lewd act in public?”
As he wiped his hands, he said, “Yep, because, A: I’m one thousand percent sure he never did that to you. B: I’m ten thousand percent sure he never made you come at all. And C: He now knows he can’t compete.”
“He couldn’t have competed anyway, because A: I don’t want his ass, and B: Who could compete with you?”
“Shit, I know no one can compete with me. Now he knows it, too. He’ll be thinking about tonight for months, about the way you looked and the sound you made when that orgasm hit you.”
Before I could respond, the club’s manager took the small stage and began introducing the night’s performer, so I took the napkin and placed it on Ryan’s lap, sliding my hand into his pants as I settled in to enjoy the show in my ruined panties.
“Where you going?” I asked, as I felt her head leave my chest.
“To pee.”
“Need some help?”
She laughed. “Uh, no. Been doing it on my own for quite a few years now.”
I lay there for a second after she left, then got up and followed her, standing in the bathroom doorway as she sat on the toilet.
“Wow, either you really love me or you’re even more twisted than I thought.”
I grinned as I leaned against the door facing. “Both.”
“You’re really gonna stand there and watch me pee?”
I nodded.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t wanna miss a second of being with you.”
She dropped her eyes. “Me either.”
Silence that I should’ve filled reassuring her fell between us until she tore some tissue from the roll, cleaned herself, and flushed the toilet. After she washed her hands, she headed toward where I still stood in the doorway.
“I love you,” I said softly.
“I love you, too.”
We stood there for a moment staring at each other, and then I took her hand and led her back to bed.
38
“Tell me what I’m supposed to do with it.”
I shook my head, keeping my mouth fastened as I held in my laughter.
“Okay, what is it, then?” He held up the liquid foundation and inspected the bottle. “Okay, it says foundation, so, I’m supposed to put it…shit, this is a set-up. There’s no way I can get this right. Damn, I said shit. Edit that out.”
I burst into laughter. “You also said damn.”
“Shit! You know I curse when I’m frustrated.”
“And when you’re happy and when you have sex, watch TV, brush your teeth—”
He smirked. “Ha, ha, ha. What am I supposed to put this on your face with? Sponge or brush?”
“Ryan, for the fifth time, I can’t tell you.”
He sighed, grabbed a brush, and poured foundation on it, then slathered it on my face. We were filming a “Boyfriend Does My Make-up” video, and I was sure it was going to surpass the hair-washing video’s views, because so far, Ryan’s attempt at applying my make-up had been hilarious.
“Angie, how could I possibly do this right? I mean, look at how much make-up you’ve got!”
“You’re supposed to have paid attention when I was doing my make-up in the past, then you’d know.”
“Man…”
“And hurry up. It’s getting late and you have work in the morning.”
“Yeah, y
eah…”
He grabbed the liquid eyeliner and stared at it.
“Poor baby. You wanna watch me do my make-up tomorrow and film afterwards?”
“You letting me cheat?”
“Yep.”
“Shit, thank you.”
A few minutes later, a little after 11:00 PM, I had scrubbed my face clean and we were in bed. Four hours after that, Ryan slid his arm off my waist, waking me up.
“Where you going?” I groggily asked.
“Someone’s at your door.”
“Oh, what time is it?”
“Three.”
“In the morning?”
“Yeah.”
Whoever it was rang the doorbell and knocked again.
I moved to get up.
“No,” Ryan said. “I got it.”
“No, it’s my house.”
“Your ass is not answering the door at this time of morning.”
“Who do you think answered it before you started sleeping here?”
“I hope you didn’t answer it at all this late.”
More knocking.
Ryan left the room, and I was right behind him. He checked the peephole, glanced back at me, and shrugged.
“What?” I whispered.
“It’s some dude.”
“Let me see.”
He moved back, and my eyes widened when I saw the haggard man on the other side. I reached for the knob, but Ryan clamped his hand over mine, keeping me from opening the door.
“What are you doing?” he asked in a harsh whisper.
“Letting him in. It’s my father.”
*****
My daddy was tall and pretty fit for his age other than his slightly bulging waistline. He was handsome, too, even though he looked like he’d missed several nights of sleep. I sat across from him at my kitchen table and stared at him. His eyes were on the table, as were his hands. He folded them and sighed.
I was about to say something when Ryan placed cups of coffee before me and Daddy, then kissed my cheek and left us alone.
Daddy cleared his throat, and said, “He seems nice.”
“He is,” I replied.
“He, uh, living here with you now?”
“Sort of.”
“Hmm.”
“Daddy, why—”
“I need you to talk to your mama for me, convince her to take me back.”
My mouth dropped open. “What?”
“I need your help, Angie. You’re the only one who can do it. Renee’s got that husband taking up her time. And Nicky? She won’t answer my calls.”
“Daddy, why didn’t you just call me?”
“Baby girl, I don’t think I have your number.”
As I sat there and thought about it, I didn’t have his number, either. All communication went through Mama. Man, my family was truly screwed up.
“Daddy. I don’t want to get in the middle of this…”
“But will you?”
I sighed. “To be honest, I don’t want her to take you back.”
He frowned as he leaned forward. “What? You don’t want us back together?”
“No.”
“Angie!”
“Daddy, I’ve watched you mistreat her my whole life. I’m not going to help you hurt her more than you already have.”
He stared at me like I’d spoken a foreign language or something.
“Why are you out so late, anyway?” I asked.
He fell back in his chair. “I have a little place across town where I’ve been staying and I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to try to talk to your Mother. She wouldn’t even open the door. She wouldn’t let me in my own house.” He dropped his head, and when he looked up at me, there were tears in his eyes. “I messed up. I see that now. I guess I thought she’d never leave me. All these years…”
I leaned forward. “Do you love her, Daddy?”
He nodded. “With all my heart.”
“Then why did you treat her like that all those years?”
“I don’t feel right discussing that with you.”
“But you feel right coming over here in the middle of the night, waking me up to ask me to be your spokeswoman?”
He blew out a breath. “I don’t know why, Angie. Okay? I don’t know why.”
“Then maybe you need to figure it out and try to fix it before you talk to Mama. Get some help or something.”
I sat there for a few minutes, waiting for him to speak, but he didn’t, so I said, “Daddy, Ryan has work in the morning. If you want, you can have the guest bed.”
He shook his head. “No, I’ll just go back to my place. Um…Angie, you know I love you, don’t you?”
“Honestly?” I closed my eyes, wondering why I was suddenly feeling emotional. I thought for a long time my relationship, or lack of a relationship, with my father didn’t bother me. It was just a part of the fabric of my life. I knew it affected my relationships with men, but it never occurred to me that it affected me, and that it hurt me so deeply.
“Honestly?” I repeated. “I don’t know, Daddy. There was a time when I was little that I felt it. Back then, I knew you loved me. But the older I got, I wondered if you even remembered that I existed. When you were leaving Mama alone for days, weeks at a time, you were leaving me and Nay and Nicky, too.”
“Angie…despite anything I might’ve done, I love you, baby girl. I always have and always will. I don’t want you to ever think otherwise.”
“But you don’t even know me, Daddy.” My voice cracked and I lost the battle with my tears.
Daddy reached across the table and tightly grasped my hands. “I do. I do know you.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t know Renee or Nicky, either. You don’t even know Mama. All you know is Strickland motors and whatever else it is you spend your time on. I bet you have no idea what I do for a living.”
“You make videos about hair.”
I gasped.
“See, I do know. But I’m sorry for making you feel…forgotten.”
“You don’t even know my phone number, probably only know my address because I’ve lived here since I left home. Daddy, I just…”
“I hurt you. I hurt all of you. I understand that now. But I was just trying to provide and—”
I shook my head. “If you’re going to do this, if your intention is to make things right, make them better, then don’t sit there and insult my intelligence. You didn’t neglect your entire family just for Strickland Motors. You were cheating; you’re probably living with a woman now. Got your daughters all screwed up in the head when it comes to men.”
I’d evidently raised my voice, because I could hear Ryan’s footsteps approaching. A second later, he stuck his head in the kitchen doorway, and said, “Ang, everything okay?”
I nodded, afraid I’d cry again if I spoke.
He stood there a good minute before I heard his footsteps retreat.
Daddy smiled. “Well, I don’t know about any of the other men you might’ve dealt with, but that one loves you.”
“I know. Daddy, it’s late and he’s not going to go back to bed as long as—”
“I’m going to leave, baby girl. I just want to make it clear that I love you. I want us to talk some more, clear the air, so…why don’t you call my office tomorrow. You know that number, right?”
I nodded.
“Okay, call the office and we’ll talk some more, exchange cell numbers. I’m gonna do better by you and your sisters no matter what happens between me and your mother.”
“That’d be nice, Daddy.”
I walked him to the front door, and he pulled me into a hug, whispered, “I’m sorry…for everything,” and left. When I closed the door and turned around, Ryan was standing in the living room.
“Baby, you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
As I fell into his arms and cried, I said, “No.”
39
The next morning, as I cooked breakfast for me and Ryan, I told him about my conversat
ion with Daddy and his apology.
“Well, it’s good that he apologized, right?”
I placed the bacon, eggs, and toast on his plate and set it before him. “If he meant it.”
“You don’t think he meant it?”
I sat across from him with my own plate. “I think he’s desperate to get back home. Probably got some young girl worrying the shit out of him and he can’t go back to Mama to get some peace like he was able to do in the past. Mama never argued or fussed. I bet he misses that.”
“So you think he’d go so far as to pretend to apologize to you? How would that help him get your mom back?”
“The first thing he asked me to do was talk to Mama on his behalf, ask her to take him back. I refused, so I think he’s trying to butter me up, get me on his side so I’ll help.”
He took a bite of bacon and shook his head. “If that’s what he’s doing, then it’s extremely fucked up, but I don’t know, Angie. I’d give anything for my dad to apologize to me or at least act like he’s sorry for the shit he put me through.”
“You ever go visit him or talk to him?”
“Hell, no. I avoid his ass at all costs.”
“What about your brother?”
He sighed. “Ang…I had to cut him off. I tried to be there for him, put money on his books and stuff, help him when he’d get out, but it’s like he wants to be in there. He’ll get out and be right back there in a month. Last time he got arrested, it was for driving a car. At least that’s the story he told me, that someone asked him to drive a car across state lines, all the way to Atlanta from Louisiana. Said they paid him $6000 to drive a car, and this ignorant nigga didn’t think maybe there were some drugs in it, didn’t even check the trunk. Now he’s locked up on federal drug charges. I can’t deal with that shit anymore. Makes my head hurt to think about him and my father.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“At least you’ve got KC. Y’all are really good friends, right?”
“Yeah, we’ve been boys since freshman year of college. He’s good people. Always got my back but will tell me about myself in a minute. His little girl is my godbaby.”
Stay with Me (Strickland Sisters Book 1) Page 14
