Page 29 of When Love Becomes A Need
I don’t know what the hell happened to me a few minutes ago. It was like I had this sudden urge to touch Fatima. Her skin was smooth ashell, and the way her perfume had filled my nose, I couldn’t keep my hands off her. By how her body reacted to my touch, I could tell she didn’t mind it either.
If my sister hadn’t brought her ass in here, I would have been tempted to try and take things further. The way Fatima’s eyes lustfully ate me up, I knew I could have her. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her. I wanted her to wrap her long legs around my waist while she bounced up and down on my dick.
I wanted to run my hand through her natural curls and run my tongue down her neck while she moaned my name in my ear. Just replaying how my name sounded leaving her lips made me want to call her back in here.
Fatima had me feeling things I hadn’t felt about a girl in a long ass time without even trying. She was different, a breath of fresh air from the girls that normally throw themselves at me. Even though I made her nervous at times, she didn’t act all thirsty and shit, which I liked.
I ran my hand down my face and closed my eyes. I wanted to know more about her little cute ass. The way her voice escalated and her face dropped when I asked about her dad caused me to want to dig deeper. Even her hate for relationships, I knew I had my reasons, but I wanted to know hers.
I need to chill the hell out.
The feelings I found myself having were foreign. I had long ago shut down the thought of a relationship, yet when Fatima came to mind, I wanted to reconsider.
CHAPTER 9
Fatima
“Oh, look who finally made time out of their busy life to come visit their little ole’ mama,” my mom scolded as I walked into her house.
“Mom, don’t be like that,” I whined.
She smiled at me and pulled me into her. “I just missed you, that’s all.”
A small smile appeared on my face as I hugged her tightly.
My mom and I were really close. Being a single mother, she sacrificed a lot for me to have what I did growing up, and I could never pay her back for that, but I wanted to try. That’s another reason why I wanted my photography to take off. My mom would spend her last on a new camera if she saw me wanting one. When I realized that, I stopped asking her for them. I felt bad that she would buy me these expensive ass cameras but wouldn’t do anything for herself.
My mom didn’t mind, though. She always told me she rather me have it before she did.
We didn’t struggle, per se, growing up. My mom was the manager at a hotel, so she made decent money. Nothing special but enough to keep food on the table and the bills paid.
After my dad left, things were rough for a while, but she got on her feet quickly. We ended up moving into a smaller house.
Thankfully, my dad was forced to pay my mom alimony and child support after the divorce, which helped with expenses.
“Come on, I cooked.” She waved me to the back of the house.
While walking down the hall, I looked at the walls. They were filled with a lot of pictures I had taken myself, as well as some of my mom and me that we got done professionally.
My mom always supported my dream to be a photographer. Ever since I came home from her dad’s house bragging about working at the studio with my grandpa, she’s been on board, making sure I got whatever I needed to make my dreams come true.
“So, my stranger daughter, tell me what’s going on with you.”
I side eyed my mom. “Mom,” I whined. “Stop. You know I’ve been working a lot, and then I get caught up taking pictures and doing edits.”
My mom waved me off. “I’m just playing, baby. But really, how are you? I know you were bummed out after meeting with that idiot company.”
“I’ve actually been feeling better. I’ve started branching out and doing small photoshoots to get my name out there.”
My mom smiled. “Really? Tell me more!”
I took a bite of the pasta she prepared, savoring the cheesy garlic taste. One thing I missed about living with her was her cooking. Most of the time, I was too lazy to cook and settled on takeout, so I always appreciated her having a meal ready for me whenever I came here.
“It’s nothing big, but I started anInstagram pageand paid someone to build me a website for bookings. It’s going to be hard getting my name out there, but hopefully it will take off. I’m calling it “Tima Photos.”
My mom’s smile grew. “I’m so proud of you, baby. Your work is too good to be working for some big company anyway.”
My thoughts went to Ahmad. He said the same thing to me. It was his words that encouraged me to actually do this. I always wanted to work with big names, magazines, and companies so badly that I never considered starting my business and growing my name. The way he encouraged me to take a step out and do this gave me the push to do it.
