Page 100 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“Yo, Sianni! Baby, you in here?” Kyrie called out as he made his way through the foyer.

“Yes, Big Daddy!” I yelled back.

A grin spread across my face because I already knew his ass was somewhere cheesing.

He didn’t say anything back, but after a few minutes, he appeared at the entrance of the living room, fresh from rehab with his eyes locked on me.

And just like I expected, that damn smile was all over his face.

“There go my fucking wife.”

I laughed as he made his way toward me.

“Boy, you act like you ain’t seen me in forever.”

“Shit, felt like forever.”

He stopped in front of the couch, looked down at me for a second, then leaned over and pressed his lips against mine.

And judging by the way his hand slid underneath my chin when I tried to pull away, a regular little welcome-home kiss clearly wasn’t enough for his ass.

“Uh-uh.” I laughed against his lips. “You sweaty.”

“And?”

“And get off me.”

“Nawl.”

“Kyrie!”

His grin widened as he stole another kiss before finally letting me go.

“Been gone all them damn days, and now you acting funny.”

“I’m not acting funny. Your ass just came from rehab.”

“And you still love me.”

I rolled my eyes, fighting the smile trying to spread across my face. Unfortunately, he was right. And judging by that cocky ass look on his face, he knew it too.

He kissed me one last time before heading upstairs to take a shower. While he was gone, I finished eating, took my plate into the kitchen, rinsed it out, then made my way back to the couch.

About five minutes later, Kyrie came strolling back into the living room, looking refreshed, with another one of those damn smiles on his face.

“So, how was the rest of the trip?” he asked, dropping onto the couch beside me. Before I could answer, he grabbed my feet and pulled them onto his lap. “You have fun?”

“Yeah, I did. It actually ended up being better than I expected after all the bullshit that went down.”

“Good.” His eyes drifted toward the front door before a smirk tugged at his lips. “Shit, I can tell. Look at all them damn bags you got sitting over there.”

“Oh, whatever.” I rolled my eyes.

Kyrie looked back at me. “You know you always rolling yo’ damn eyes?”

“I know. And?” I rolled them again just to fuck with him. “I like rolling my eyes.”

“I know.” His eyes dropped to my lips before slowly making their way back up. “And I like when you roll them hoes, too.”