Page 69 of One More Bad Boy

I noticed how tall she was standing. A young woman challenging me to say she wasn’t worth all my effort. Of course she was; she was talented through and through. But she’d misunderstood me the way I’d misunderstood her. I needed to make it clear so that didn’t happen again. “Amina,” I said, pulling her against me. I loved how she sucked in a sharp breath. “When you asked if you were a mistake, and I said no, I wasn’t talking about how you fit into my company.” I set my chin on top of her head. “Us, right here, right now? This is no mistake.”

Amina was quiet. Suddenly she pulled away, leaving me unsteady... nervous. “You want to know why I got weird when you tried talking dirty to me our first time together?” Tears welled in her eyes; she fought them back. “Those exes you told me you're better than? One of them used to guilt me about it.”

A ripple of anger made me clench my fists. “He what?”

“I opened up my heart to him... told him my secrets, the things I liked, and he twisted them around and used them against me. He said I was a slut, and he meant it. He refused to eat my pussy because he wassureI was sleeping around, and he didn’t want another guy’s jizz in his mouth.”

“That piece of shit,” I seethed.

Her face screwed up as the tears finally glided down her cheeks. “He made me ashamed foreverliking sex, for wanting it, for even thinking about it. He gaslit me every single day, telling me I was crazy for suspecting he was seeing anyone else, that I only thought that way becauseIwas the unfaithful one. If I hadn’t caught him in the act... I think... I might have stayed in that relationship. Isn’t that pathetic?”

I was too angry to speak. Drawing her in, I hugged her like I could crush all the shame from her. I hated the idea of her feeling anything about herself but pride. “Nothing about you is pathetic,” I whispered into her scalp. “I wish I could have half the courage that you do, Amina.”

She struggled out of my arms; not to flee, but so she could kiss me. Her palms fit onto my cheeks as if they were designed to be there. This woman was beautiful, talented, brave—

and all mine.

Crouching, she scooped up something from the floor. I saw the garish red of Sherman’s business card. She held it up between us, making sure I saw.

With a beautiful smile on her lips, she tore the card in half.

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