Peaches, being the crook that she is, was worried about her surroundings, so she invited me to her room. She spent the first thirty minutes lying to me. She tried to use that “rekindle” and “rehabilitation” shit I put in her head back on me. She wanted me to think she really wanted a mother-daughter relationship with Savannah, but it wasn’t working. She then offered to sell me information on the niggas Savannah had been fucking, but I already knew enough to get my own information on them. Twenty minutes later, I had broken Peaches down for the truth, and she was offering to split the money she was planning on stealing from Savannah with me. I couldn’t knowingly let her rob Savannah, but I could help fix her money issues while I straightened out my bitch.
Three meetings with Peaches later, this plan was put in motion. If losing everything she worked hard for didn’t wake Savannah’s ass up, I’d have to let her stay asleep.
“Peaches, where’s Savannah?” I said as I walked in the room, cotton-mouthed from thirst and yelling.
At that very moment, Savannah exited the restroom and handed her mama a cell phone. She had a look of disappointment on her face, but she wiped it off as she walked up to me and kissed me on my jaw. “Hey, baby, what’s wrong?”
She tried to flip it like I was the one with the problem. She was smooth but not smooth enough. I could see the ashy tracks of dried tears on her face. I was glad to see the decision to choose me over her life’s savings brought her pain. It was a sample of the payback life I had lined up for her for all the bullshit she’d done. It’s good to know that Karma and I were in cahoots in making sure Savannah got back everything she dished out.
“That’s what the fuck I’m trying to find out. What took you so long to answer the door?”
My words made her jump, or it could have been the sight of me holding my pistol in my busted, swollen hand. Savannah nervously turned away from me, looking for help from her mama, but she was too busy listening to the voice on the other end of the phone. I’m sure Peaches was listening to her pending transactions on her banking account and couldn’t care less about helping Savannah at that moment. I glanced back at Royce. He looked at me and the gun, then turned to Peaches for help as well.
Savannah and Royce were scared shitless. I had them both running to Peaches for protection, as if she were a walking, talking bulletproof vest. A feeling of power rushed through me, and laughter grew in the pit of my stomach. My anger was still present, but it had collaborated with humor. My pops was wrong—respect and fear were the same things. Savannah’s and Royce’s actions proved it. I decided to make them sweat, all the while laughing inside at their asses.
“Who the fuck is he, Savannah? Is this nigga the reason you couldn’t open the door for me? Huh?” I asked, hoping my voice would still sound angry. Then I pointed the barrel of my gun at Royce’s head with about twenty feet of space between us. It was juvenile of me to play with my power, but I wanted to hear Savannah’s lying at its best.
She didn’t bite. Savannah continued to look at her mama for help as her heart pounded against her chest. Her breasts reacted to the pounding by hugging her black shirt and fluttering like a butterfly’s wings. Royce was waiting for her response to my question with his hands covering his face as if they would shield him from bullets, but it became obvious Savannah didn’t have one. Still protected, he focused his attention on Peaches again.
A smile reappeared on the face of Peaches. She hung up the phone, then approvingly nodded at Savannah before speaking. “Dre, I said, put the gun down. This is our lawyer, Royce Reed. He was here helping Savannah and me try to figure out how to get that nasty little background of yours expunged. Weren’t we, Royce?”
The bitch nigga nodded his head “yes” faster than the speed of light, then stood up and extended his hand to me.
“How are you, Dre? I’m... I’m Royce Reed, your new lawyer. I was wondering when I would get the chance to meet with you.”
I should have knocked his teeth down his throat for standing in my face lying. But then again, he was a lawyer, a career that paid him to lie. He was spineless, which made him the exact opposite of me. If this was the type of nigga Savannah was normally attracted to, then I know why she was interested in me. She was tired of dating bitches. Savannah needed a real man made from bone, muscle, and thick blood. This dude was watered-down gristle. I wasn’t about to shake his hand. What would I look like getting chummy with the wimp who had been having sex with my woman?
I waved his hand off and said, “I don’t fuck with lawyers like that. Y’all stay with a lie or two. So... Are you here to get my record closed for me? How much is that gon’ cost me?” I slowly put my gun in its holster. Savannah’s face regained its color, but Royce’s face remained the same.
Peaches walked in between us and faced Royce. “He’s doing it for free, Dre. He owes me a favor, so I’m cashing it in on you. That’s why I asked you to meet us here today.”
Before Peaches could finish her sentence, there the punk went again, nodding his head “yes” and agreeing with whatever she was saying.
He opened his mouth again to talk. “Don’t worry about all that, Dre. I’ll get you all squared away for free. It’s the least I can do.”
Royce was right. After sampling my goods and using my fiancée as his blow-up doll, that was the very least he could do. Even a pimp would charge him more than a couple of hundred for a night with Savannah. I wasn’t about to accept his help, because Savannah wasn’t for sale even if she did make you want to put a price tag on her. My pride wouldn’t let me accept a handout from him, and I’m glad it didn’t.
“Don’t trouble yo’self, Royce. I’ll fix my shit on my own time. There’s something about you I just don’t trust.” As I concluded my sentence, Royce’s facial expression grew into a questioning one, and so did Savannah’s. I couldn’t believe what she fixed her mouth to say next.
“What do you mean, you just don’t trust him, Dre? He’s here to help you. I think you owe him the opportunity to try—and an apology.”
I should have snatched her ass off the ground by her neck, then locked my grasp around her throat until she blacked out. What would make her think I’d owe him anything? He was in debt to me for nonpayment from all my pussy and time he’s been getting. I’d never put my hands on a woman except to please or assist her, but Savannah had me ready to slap the shit out of her. She needed to learn where her loyalties should lie and to shut her mouth when two men were talking. It was hard to play cool after that, but I managed to bring Savannah back to reality.
“I don’t know, Savannah. The nigga looks shady to me. He looks like one of them cutthroat niggas that would try to shake my hand after fucking you. You know what I mean?”
That shut her ass up and sent Royce to take a seat as far away from me as possible. Peaches was loving the live entertainment, and since she was the only one in the room who was truly winning, I decided to wrap up this show. “Thanks for trying to look out for me and all, Peaches, but I can handle mines. Come on, Savannah, let’s go.”
Savannah didn’t move an inch. Her eyes were fixated on her mother as if they were having a conversation in Morse code using the blinks of their eyes. “Dre, baby, go ahead and go. I’ll be right behind you. I just want to make sure everything is good with Mama before she leaves town tonight. I love you.”
That was the first time Savannah had called Peaches “Mama” in front of me and truly meant it, but I didn’t give a fuck.
“I’m not in a rush, baby. I can wait while y’all say goodbye. I’m glad to see y’all giving this mama and daughter thing a try. Maybe my daughter will benefit from it.”
“No, Dre,” Savannah blurted out. “We need some... ummm, mama and daughter alone time. You understand, don’t you?” She tried to put on an innocent smile when she finished her last words. If she thought I’d leave her alone with them, she had another think coming.
“Hell no, I don’t understand.” I snapped back at her, then looked at Peaches for an understanding
.
She looked lost back at me and didn’t mind expressing it. “Savannah, we’ve already said our goodbyes. Go on home with your fiancé and start enjoying y’all’s new life together with my beautiful granddaughter. I’ll be in touch, and I still prefer you to call me Trisha. Peaches is for friends, and I’ve never liked the word ‘Mama.’ It makes me feel old.”
Laughing at her final words, Peaches grabbed her package and cell phone off the table. She looked at the three of us individually and nodded. Before she made her way out of the room, she gave us a smile that I’d never forget. Now I knew what the devil looked like when he was having a good day.
Chapter Two
Never Saw It Coming
We made it home before the sun ducked off and let the moon do its thing in the sky. It wasn’t quite sunset yet, but the redness of the day was beginning to turn burgundy, and it would only get darker. It couldn’t have been a better time of day to start pleasing season. I had enough daylight left to get home and unwind with some foreplay before breaking Savannah’s back in. I was ready to consummate my renewed relationship. I left all the bullshit that happened at the hotel back at the hotel. I wasn’t going to bring that shit home with me.
When Savannah jumped in her car, and I got in mines, that Royce and Trisha shit was over with. I didn’t know how Savannah felt about it, but I was done with it. While she drove home thinking about the money she lost, my mind was on my passenger. I wasn’t in my ride alone. I was accompanied by freaky thoughts that made my dick harder than steel. He was ready to tear through my boxers and bust out of my pants to get inside of Savannah. I tried not to listen to him, but he was begging me to free him and stroke him now. I was seconds away from turning into one of them perverted niggas you hear about on the news. I thought about just stroking him enough to calm his overly hyped ass down, but that would only make things worse. We were out in public. I couldn’t just pull him out and stroke him like the shit was normal. I was sitting in traffic on a busy Saturday evening with cars to the left and right of me. I wouldn’t fall for his foolishness. Instead, I grabbed his hardheaded ass through my pants and mumbled, “Look, nigga, you gotta wait.”
We had no choice but to wait because we both wanted to feel Savannah’s warmth wrapped around us. I didn’t like stroking my own shit, and he wasn’t that fond of my touch. I only did it when it was necessary, and now wasn’t one of them times. I was ten minutes away from the house; then we’d get some pussy.
Savannah didn’t know it yet, but she was in trouble—in a good way. I was ready to give her all of me after all this time of just giving her enough of me. She didn’t deserve the piping I’m capable of giving her until now. If she thought she couldn’t handle what I’d been giving her in the past, there was nothing she could do to prepare for what she’s got coming. I pushed my foot on the gas and cut over to the far right lane so I could be parallel to Savannah’s car at the red light. When she looked my way, I rolled my window down, and she did the same.
“Stop driving like a granny and hit the gas, baby. I got something to give you when we get home.” As the words came out of my mouth, the pounding in my pants got worse.
“What’cha got for me, Dre?”
Her question made her right eyebrow lift, and her eyes slant. Damn, my baby is sexy. I could’ve eaten her ass up at the light, but it quickly changed from red to green. If she hadn’t hit the gas at the change of the signal, she would have heard me say, “This dick.” I had to rub my pants before following her lead.
When she pulled in our driveway, I pulled in and parked right behind her, blocking her car in. She wouldn’t be going anywhere anyway, at least not anytime soon. She got out of her car and smiled at me. I’m sure she didn’t mean for it to be a sexy smile, but that’s the way my dick convinced my brain to perceive it. I jumped out of mine, raced up the walkway behind her, and attacked Savannah before she could get her key out of the door.
“What are you doing, Dre?” Savannah said, laughing as I came up behind her and started nibbling on her neck.
“What does it feel like I’m doing?” I pressed the zipper area of my pants against her butt so she could feel my words, then said, “I told you I had something for you,” as I laid combinations of licks and small bites on the back of her neck.
“It feels like you trying to start some shit; that’s what it feels like.” She moved her neck out of my mouth’s reach, then continued, “I’ve had a long day, Dre. Can I get a rain check?”
Instantly, the throbbing in my pants stopped because I knew she was right, but my hardness hadn’t gotten that memo. The head on my shoulders understood why sex would be the last thought on Savannah’s mind, but not the head in my pants. He wanted to thank her for putting us first, and sending her to ecstasy was the best form of repayment. For the first time in years, both of my heads worked together to come up with a plan of attack. I left Savannah where she stood in the living room and drew a hot bubble bath. I threw in some of that lavender salt she liked to use when she wanted to relax and lit a few candles that she kept stationery in the bathroom. When the bath was drawn, I went back to get her. She was now barefoot, curled up on the couch, flipping through a magazine.
“Come on, let me help you relax some.”
I reached out for her hands. She hesitated, then grabbed my hands and stood on her feet. I had her undress and get in the tub. Then I connected her MP3 player to the speakers in the house and played her “’90s R&B jams” playlist. The first track on the list was “Butter Love” by Next. She sang along to the tune while I sat on the rim of the tub and rolled the perfect blunt in record time. I hit it twice and passed it to her, then headed to the kitchen to pour her a glass of wine. When I made it back, Savannah’s eyes were already sitting low. I swapped the blunt for her glass and puffed away on it. I wasn’t an R&B type of guy, but I did know the hits, and Savannah seemed to have everyone playing back to back. By the time Aaron Hall and Guy were halfway finished with singing “Piece of My Love,” I was on my knees, sleeves rolled to my elbows, washing Savannah’s body with her rag. I started at her neck, then made my way slowly down to her breasts. I encircled each one with the rag, making sure to lift them to clean the crease that hid under them. I lingered around her nipples and softly touched them both with the outside of my index finger. Her nipples responded to me by standing erect.
“Dre...”
I shushed her before she continued and motioned for her to listen to the music flowing through the speakers. I didn’t know the song or the identity of the singer, but the beat was soft, and the words went perfectly with the mood I was in. I wanted to make love, and that’s what the male singer kept reciting. I rushed my way down her stomach, then released the rag to squeeze my hand in between her legs. She tightened her thighs to prevent me from entering. I didn’t like being rejected, but I accepted it and moved my hand down her leg to her foot. From right foot to the left, I messaged her feet until I noticed she had closed her eyes. I crawled back up her leg with my index and middle finger and tried to get between her thighs again. This time, they opened. I rubbed her clit for a little over a minute, then used my fingers to clean her opening and about three inches inside of her.
She purred my name and said, “I’m ready for you to get me out of this tub.”
I grabbed her black beach-sized towel off the toilet, then picked her up and carried her to our bed. Once her body was dried and oiled, it was on. I was hungry, and it was time to feast. I made a meal out of her without resting my tongue until my hunger was satisfied. I made sure that every drop of her juices was caught in my mouth. The bed wouldn’t get a taste. Since her legs were already on my shoulders, all I had to do was bend them back a little farther to slide in, and that’s exactly what I did.
I dug deep with my first few strokes. Then I moved in and out of her like I was playing a violin, slow yet meaningful. Savannah had her eyes closed and was moaning softly. That meant I was hitting her wrong. I intended to make love to her, but I was doing it as
if I were apologizing or making up for my wrongdoings. I hadn’t done shit to her. I picked up my pace, and her eyes flew open. Then I beat it. For over an hour, I hit her like a drum being pounded with the palm of a hand.
“Dre!” Savannah screamed out breathlessly, still looking me in the eyes. “Did you pop a pill?”
I hadn’t popped a pill, and she ain’t never known me to pop one either. I was putting in overtime because I wanted to show my gratitude for her putting me first and to remind her whose pussy it was. I couldn’t tell her she was being rewarded, so I blew off her questioning and quieted her up by covering her mouth with my hand and whispering, “Shut up.”
She tried to move to make the beating easier on herself, but I didn’t let her. “Bring yo’ ass back over here. I ain’t done.”
I didn’t want to hear her voice unless it was in moans and screams. So, what if this was her award ceremony? I hadn’t forgotten that her creeping is what caused the shit in the first place. I flipped her over onto her stomach and pushed her legs up under her body until her thighs rested underneath her breasts. Changing the position was the only sympathy I was willing to show her. Now her butt was in the air like two mountains, and I planned on beating them down until they became hills. I know she was wondering what caused the change from sensual to a beast, but I knew the beast in me was what Savannah really liked. With my left hand, I snatched up both of her wrists like a handcuff and said, “Go ahead and bite that pillow, baby. Daddy gon’ give you what you want.”
She did as she was told with no questions asked, and I kept my word by forcefully inserting myself in and out of her like a Q-tip in an ear, twisting every time I got ready to pull out of her. I never completely removed myself from her warmth. I just pulled out far enough to cause her anxiety over my next deep dive. As she moaned her painful pleasures into the pillow, including my name, the urge to dig deeper came over me. I was in full beast mode and wanted to know how much she could really take without all of that fake moaning shit women trained themselves to do. She could save all of that “you’re too deep shit” for another sucker. Savannah was far from virginity days, and I wasn’t going to let her put on an act. Some women get in the bed and put on an Academy Award–winning show. Most of the shit they say and do in bed is rehearsed. It’s Hollywood acting at its best. They’ve either practiced with the niggas before you, or they’ve summed up what to expect from you in the first few minutes of sex. Then they act accordingly. I wasn’t about to let Savannah pull that shit on me.
Kismet 3 Page 3
