Page 128 of Deuce

Today was the first day of classes and I was so ready to jump back into normal life; life before my mother got sick, life before all the craziness ensued. I rolled out of bed and popped one of the anxiety pills before climbing to my feet. As I had my morning stretch, I caught a whiff of something delicious. At first, I was confused because I was back at my apartment.

Then I thought maybe my mom or Shar came to cook breakfast. Deciding to see which of them it was, I pulled on my robe and left the bedroom. The smell of whatever was being cooked had me practically floating to the kitchen. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday and I was starving.

When I rounded the corner, my mouth dropped.

There stood Deuce at the stove in nothing but his basketball shorts and socks. He looked back at me and smiled.

“Hey, baby. You hungry?”

“Stanley… what are you doing here?”

“I brought your stubborn ass food last night, but you were asleep, so I stayed to make you breakfast for your first day of class.”

He came over and pecked my lips before grabbing a plate from the cabinet. I stared at him in disbelief as he plated a helping of sausage, eggs, and French toast. I wanted to be mad, but it looks so good and I was starving.

He took the plate and a glass of juice to my dining room table and set it down, before pulling out a chair. Silently, he looked back at me, waiting for me to sit down. I sighed heavily as I went to cop a seat. He went to fix his plate and drink, then came back to join me. I watched as he ate like this was the most normal thing in the world.

“You ain’t hungry?” he asked, looking over at me.

“I’m trying to figure out if Ms. Stephanie dropped you on your head as a child. I said I needed space.”

“I gave you space. I slept in the other room.”

“That’s not what I meant! I broke up with you.”

“Correction, you tried to break up with me and I said no. It’s all good, though.” He took a long sip of his juice. “Eat up.”

I laughed. I had to laugh because this man was relentless and thickheaded.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You, Stanley. You.”

I snatched up the fork and stabbed a sausage before placing it and a bit of eggs in my mouth. I frowned as I ate it, not wanting him to know that I liked it. We ate in silence for the remainder of our meal. When we were done, he grabbed the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher while I went back to my room to get ready and dressed for the day.

By the time I came out of the shower, he was in my room, sitting on the bed waiting for me. I’d hoped he’d been gone, but to no avail.

“Can you get out so I can get dressed?” I asked with attitude as I gripped my towel.

“I’ve seen you naked.”

He stood and brought himself toe to toe with me. Peering down at me, he brushed my braids over my shoulder. His finger trailed my jawline as he cocked his head from side to side.

“I miss you, mama. I know you going through some shit, but I can’t be away from you, Salima. I love you.”

He leaned in and pecked my lips.

“Tell me you love me.”

His kisses became harder and rougher, just the way I liked them. His hand slipped beneath the towel and in between my legs. I hated that my body betrayed me. His kisses made me weak, and my pussy always responded to him.

“Say it,” he commanded, stroking my pearl.

“I—I love you!”

I panted heavily as he backed me up against the bathroom door. He pried my hands from the towel with ease, allowing it to drop to the floor. His mouth moved from my lips to my painfully erect nipples. I gasped as he sucked them, one, then the other, all while his fingers stroke my wetness. I could feel myself making a fucking mess.

“You say it’s over, but this pussy says she’s still mine,” he said, peering down at me. “Is she mine, Salima?”

---