I quickly slammed the laptop shut like someone else was in the room with me, looked around, then opened it back up. Once my eyes had their fill, I bookmarked the tab and searched up any and everything I could about him and Chanel’s relationship. Midway through my third deep dive, my phone rang from an unknown number. Without thinking, I picked up.
“Amaya Lewis speaking,” I said like it wasn’t well past business hours. With my career, business hours were nonexistent, because my needy ass clients had no issue with calling me any time of night.
“Angel Cakes! You answered! Hey, baby.” My blood ran cold as I froze completely. My brain told me to hang up the fucking phone, but my body couldn’t move.
“I-…” My voice fell off before he could hear the tremble in my words.
“Baby?” He paused. “You know what? You don’t have to say anything, just listen. Youknowhow sorry I am for how shit went down, right? You have to know that!” This delusional nigga continued on like he actually had a chance of getting back with me while I sat there in shock and continued to silently scream at myself to just end the call.
“Angel Baby,” he continued on, as if we were having a normal conversation. “I know you heard the news… it wasn’t even mine! We did all that for nothing,” he said with a chuckle.
“That still doesn’t excuse all the other shit you did… or what happened after,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, I know, but I was being falsely accused of something! That should get me points for something, right?”
“Points?!” I snapped, my voice catching up to me. “Nigga, you lost your fu?—”
“Watch your mouth, Angel Baby,” he said in a sweet but extremely menacing tone. Just like that, I reverted to the scary bitch that I only became around him. How I managed to stay in a relationship with that man for five years was a wonder, even to me. He didn’t like loud women, or women who expressed themselves, or were independent or smart. I dimmed so much of my light for that man, and I would be single forever before I dealt with something like that again.
“P-Please stop calling me… and my family. It’s over Malcom,” I mumbled and hung up the phone, quickly blocking his number and silencing it. I had done so well in ignoring him, only to have that ruined by one careless moment. Tonight was the first time I had spoken to him since I left two years ago, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t force away the panic that coursed through me.
Before I met that man, I was just a normal girl. One who still believed in love, happily ever afters, and all that other shit. Five years, an engagement and a messy breakup had me looking at every man in the vicinity with suspicion. I was off that, and knew I would be for the foreseeable future.
“I’m fine,” I said to no one in particular. “I’m okay. I’m fine,” I repeated as I wiped the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes. With my high for the day completely blown, I finally closed my laptop and drug myself to my room where I could fight sleep until it won the battle.
CHAPTER 5
GIVE ME YOU
“God—FUUUCK!”I groaned loudly as I stroked my dick feverishly, body jerking as I coated the shower wall with the reward of my orgasm. I didn’t stop until I was lightheaded and damn near about to pass out from the release and the heat of the water, but I needed that nut. It was the only way I would be able to make it through my planned lunch meeting with Amaya without my dick flipping over the table and making his presence known.
I hadn’t touched a woman in over a year—not since Chanel and I officially ended things. Yes, I would get hard, and I was more than capable of handling it myself—or occasionally letting Pearl handle it—but the thought of being with another woman fucked me up. That was until a week ago when Amaya Lewis walked her fine ass into my life and used those sexy ass lips to put me in my place. Since then, I had been bricked up at any given moment and having to indulge in alotof self-care.
It didn’t help that I had done some research on her and stalked everything from her professional background to her social media. I knew everything from her shoe size and favorite vacation spots to her last relationship with a ballplayer that she seemed to desperately want to stay private.
The picture of her in a purple bikini from her trip to Jamaicalast year was the one currently plaguing my thoughts, and what caused me to end up beating my meat in the shower before I headed out.
I was starting to think that Niko was right, maybe something was wrong with me. I thought that Chanel had finally pushed me so far that I could never enjoy good pussy again. Now, all that consumed my thoughts were fantasies of me fucking the baby hairs off the one woman in the world that I couldn’t fucking have.
I sucked my teeth at my reflection and stared at myself in the mirror while I dried my body off. A nigga was handsome and used to have a whole team of women to handle my needs. After really trying to make it work and be faithful to one woman, and having the shit blow up in my face, I was off all that shit. I put all my energy into being the best version of myself and was doing well with that, until Chanel threw another wrench in my fucking plans.
My longer than usual shower routine put me behind schedule, so I had to hurry and get dressed to make sure I made it to our meeting on time. I was fully prepared to wreck my damn car en route before I showed up even a minute late to see this woman. I knew she would never let me live it down, especially after all the hell I raised last time. We went to the same restaurant as before but left our people at home so we could really get to this shit without all the outside noise.
“Nice of you to join me,” Amaya said with a smirk as she looked up from her laptop as I rounded the corner to our table. She was so fucking fine… and sarcastic as hell, because I was two minutes early. Still the professional, she had on a pair of wide legged dress pants and a purple button up top… Purple just like the bikini that I spent my morning fantasizing about.
“I said I was sorry. It wasn’t my finest moment,” I shrugged sheepishly, sitting across from her. Something about the way she looked at me like she wanted me to let her down made me want to crawl into my own skin. “This isreallytaking a toll on me.” My answer was honest, probably the most honest I had beenwith anyone. I didn’t want to let anyone know just how much this shit with Chanel was affecting me, but I was tired of shrugging it off.
“Apology accepted, justpleasedon’t make me fire you again.”
“Fireme?” I shot back with an amused look on my face. I couldn’t even play it cool, she was funny as fuck, and I enjoyed being in her presence.
“I told you that you were a lil’ slow. Yes,Ifiredyou. And if you keep actin’ up, I’ll do it again.” I don’t know if sheknewwhat she was doing, but the urge to bend her thick ass over that table grew stronger every time she popped off on me.
“Noted. Can I make one request,” I asked earnestly.
“What?”
“Can you skip all the formalities and extra professional shit?”
