Page 9 of Memphis

I turned to look at him. “I don’t care.”

He shrugged. “That’s fine. Now, get out the fucking car. If you’re trying to start an argument, you ain’t gonna win. You agreed to this shit.”

“Under duress. Someone was trying to kill my sister!”

“And now no one can or will touch her.”

I sighed, snatching the door open and hitting him with it.

He chuckled. “Violence will get you everywhere with me, baby. You know that.”

I literally stomped inside his very neat and clean home, ignoring the shoe bench in the mud room because I knew he was anal about his floors being clean. No shoes allowed.

I didn’t get too far before he grabbed my arm—this nigga was always grabbing me like I wasn’t a fucking professional killer—and pulled me back to the bench.

“Fuck your floors. I ain’t taking my damn shoes off until I’m good and ready,” I shot at him.

He released my arm, grabbing the fabric of my nice red jumpsuit at the chest and pulling me into him. Then he kissed me long and hard, his hands cradling my face and moving to the straps of my jumpsuit, pulling them down my arms. In a literal second, I was naked, except for my shoes and bent over that bench…waiting, my legs rubbery and my heart pounding as I heard him unzip his pants behind me. By the time I felt his hands on my waist, I was trembling, and when he slid inside me, I dropped my head and whimpered.

“You’re always so wet for me, so ready, but you keep fighting this shit,” he groaned.

I couldn’t respond. I honestly was having trouble forming coherent thoughts at that point because nothing, and I meannothing in the world, compared to the feeling of this man inside me. Nothing ever had, and I was two thousand percent certain nothing ever would.

“You took this pussy away from me once. I won’t let you do it again. Not…ever,” he grunted, sliding in and out of me at the perfect pace—nice and easy and languid, which was actually torturous for someone like me. I liked frenetic sex because it feltunemotional to me. This? This relaxed, soaking sex? This felt too personal, and it scared me.

He was doing this shit on purpose.

“I took my body back. You didn’t fucking deserve it!” I wailed. Damn, he felt impossibly, achingly divine.

“Nah, you ain’t gon’ make me go beast mode on you this time, no matter what you say. I’ma enjoy every ridge, every soft fold, and when I’m done, I’ma eat this motherfucker like it’s the first meal I’ve had in years. Then, I’ma fuck you again and again and again, because whether I deserve your body or not, it’s mine.”

The thing was, he did not lie. He damn near fucked and ate me into oblivion and delirium that night.

5

“What the hell is going on?!” he yelled while standing in my front doorway.

“This is a quiet neighborhood, nigga. Pipe down,” I replied.

“Then let me in!” He was actually getting louder.

“Can’t do that. What you need?”

Zaccai’s eyes narrowed at me. “I know the-fuck that woman is not here.”

“I know the-fuck you ain’t speaking on my woman. That’s whatIknow.”

“Moody told me you dropped your security last night, and I figured she had something to do with it. Pussy that good?”

“Come in, little brother,” I offered, keeping my voice steady.

He smirked, stepping into the foyer. I closed the door and stared at my sibling for a moment before I spoke. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking if the pussy was that good. First, you pine over her for fucking decades. Now, you risk your life for her, worrying our mother and shit? She’s a damn employee!”

Maybe I shouldn’t have done what I did next, but he was talking about my woman, the love of my damn life. Brother or not, he’d crossed the fucking line. So, I lifted the gun I’d been holding, aiming it at his head. Side note: I never answered the door empty handed.

“You’re gonna shoot your own fucking brother over some ass?!” he shrieked.

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