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Hailo: Bye, Gianni. Tell Stepmom I said hi.
Little did she know there wouldn’t be a stepmom with her smart-ass mouth. Ignoring Hailo’s tantrum, I climbed out of the car. I had a key, so I let myself in and found Kyerra sitting at the dining room table, drinking alcohol from the bottle.
"Wassup.”
"You tell me," she insisted, taking another swig, which let me know exactly how she was feeling. Kyerra was a lightweight. She always has been. "Who is she?"
"Possibly the mother of my child."
"You know what I mean!" Kyerra yelled, hitting the table before running her fingers through her messy hair. "Where did she come from? Who is she?"
"We met at a party. We fucked, and now she's pregnant," I replied, growing irritated as I repeated the story.
"Wow! Fucking random women from the club. I expect more from you."
"That's always been your problem. I didn't ask to be on your imaginary pedestal."
"Sorry for seeing more in you than you see in yourself."
"We both know that ain't got shit to do with it, but I didn't come over here to argue."
“Then why are you here? We both know what this means. You’re not.” She paused desperately, trying to control the emotions threatening to spill out. “You’re not mine anymore, Gianni.”
“I know.” The tips of my fingers tapped her dining room table as I hovered over where she was seated. “I’m not happy about it.”
"Have you been fucking her behind my back?"
"No."
Kyerra lowered her head to hide her tears. "This was our second chance. It felt right this time, and now it just hurts." Even though my pain didn’t resonate like hers, it was there. Fully present and hard to ignore because I felt the same way, maybe even worse because I was the reason for her tears.
"Don't cry, Ky,” I damn near begged, sitting in the seat next to her.
"It's hard not to cry," Kyerra sniffled, using the back of her hand to wipe her tears.
"Come here." I insisted, reaching for her hand. Kyerra tried to resist, but after a moment, she moved and sat on my lap as I wiped her tears.
"I'm sorry you got mixed up in my shit," Despite her attitude tonight, it didn't feel good watching the woman you love in pain because of your actions. "But I can't ignore my kid. That ain't me."
"I know, but it doesn't make me feel any better," she admitted, turning in my lap, and now we were face to face. Kyerra was so goddamn beautiful. I wanted to strip her down and kiss every part of her body until she felt better, but I couldn’t, and it was killing me.
She outlined my face before bringing her index fingers to my lips. She smiled, likely thinking of all the memories they'd created exploring her body. Unable to fight it any longer or simply not wanting to, she leaned in, attacking my lips.
Shivers of delight followed as Kyerra moaned in between kisses. Her body responded to my touch, making her want more than I could give her tonight. Reaching inside my pants, Kyerra wrapped her hand around my growing shaft, happy to know I wanted her as much as she wanted me.
"Ky," I groaned, grabbing her wrist, but she didn't let it stop her. "Ky, we can't do that."
"Why?" A shadow of annoyance crossed her face as I stood up because I couldn’t afford to fuck up twice. "Can't risk getting me pregnant too. Typical."
"Typical? What the fuck are you talking about?"
“Don’t worry about it.” Kyerra retreated, not wanting to face her true feelings or express them.
“Say how you feel, Ky. Typical of me to what?”
“Other women have always been our problem!” Kyerra’s temper flared, unable to control herself. “You never put them in their place because you liked it!”
“Fuck out of here. The real problem is you never thought you were good enough, so you let them get in your head no matter how many times I showed you that you had nothing to worry about.” The operative word “them” referred to other women. Meraux men had a reputation that most women found intriguing and desperately wanted to experience.
