“To where?”
“A club or something. You need to get out of the house before all this stress starts eating at you.”
I can’t even lie; that actually sounded good as hell. It had been forever since I’d gone anywhere like that. Last time I went to a club, Alexia and I had snuck in with fake IDs, and when my mama found out, she beat our asses.
The memory almost made me laugh.
“Alright, bet,” I said finally. “But I gotta bring security with me. Kyrie got people watching me now.”
“That honestly doesn’t even surprise me.” Drayla laughed. “With all the attention y’all get? I’d probably do the same thing.”
“Girl, this lifestyle is stressful.”
“I know,” she replied. “But trust me, you’ll get used to it eventually.”
“I guess.” I sighed before standing up from the bed. “Alright, let me go get ready.”
“Bet. I’ll text you the details.”
We hung up a few seconds later.
After tossing the phone onto the bed, I headed into the closet to find something to wear before making my way toward the bathroom to shower.
Steam filled the bathroom while I stood under the water trying to clear my head.
Between Kyrie acting recklessly over Jamal, security suddenly following me everywhere, and this whole lifestyle feeling more chaotic by the day, my nerves had honestly been all over the place.
I squeezed some body wash into my hand before starting to wash up, but not even two minutes later, the shower curtain moved.
“Kyrie.” I sighed without looking back. “Can you not?”
“Nawl.” His deep voice sounded entirely too amused. “You left me downstairs by myself.”
I rolled my eyes while the water hit both of us. “You act like a child.”
“And you act like you don’t like me bothering you.”
I ignored him on purpose, but that only seemed to make him worse.
A few seconds passed before I suddenly felt his lips press against my shoulder. Then lower.
“Kyrie…” I warned again, already knowing he was about to start some shit.
“What?” he muttered against my skin. “I'm trying to make my wife feel better.”
His mouth moved across the curve where my neck met my shoulder, slow and deliberate.
My breath caught before I could stop it.
“That's not going—” I tried.
“Not what?” His voice dropped lower. “Not going to work?”
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
Because his lips were already trailing down my spine, following the path of water between my shoulder blades, and my body was betraying every irritated thought I'd had two minutes ago.
“Kyrie, I need to get ready,” I tried, but even I could hear how weak that sounded.
