Page 12 of Hooked on Loving Him

“I just thought we could spend time together outside of fucking. I was gonna make you some food,” Honesty says, pouting.

“What were you gonna cook?” I ask, knowing full well it didn’t matter because I wasn’t staying to eat anything from her kitchen. Resuming tying my shoe, I quickly complete the task so I can get out of here.

Honesty has several cats running around her spot, and seeing two full litter boxes at this entrance of the kitchen has me silently vowing to never indulge in anything but her pussy. Hell, she’s lucky I’m still putting my dick in her nasty ass. Although, I blame nightmares and the need to run from my issues for my ability to continue dumping my nut in the condom covering my dick while slipping and dipping in Honesty’s pussy. Rational thinking hasn’t once been at the forefront of my mind, which is why my dumb ass is trying to flee the scene now. The high from my nut has faded which means my big head is ready to slap my little head back into submission.

“Pancakes or wa?—”

“Nah, I’m cool. Be easy, though.” Standing, I quickly leave Honesty’s bedroom as I hear her bed squeaking, letting me know she’s about to be on my heels.

“Wait, Kayshon.”

“No time. I’ll hit you up when I need to relieve the pressure in my dick, though.”

In no time, I reach the bottom level, unlock the front door, and exit to see a familiar body contour across the way. My body freezes as my steps falter, and my eyes stretch wide while appreciating the sun’s beaming rays, providing me with an advantage for which I silently thank God. My eyes penetrate the woman’s back as she slowly turns, looking left to right before our eyes connect.

Hell yeah. I’m definitely marrying her beautiful ass.

Without acknowledging the heat coming from my back, my feet move toward the woman as my pulse increases with every step I take.

*wham*

The door slamming behind me doesn’t slow my stride, nor does it cause me to turn to change my mind. If nothing else, I need to know my wife’s name before leaving this townhouse community.

Run Ashari,run… The nerdy Hulk is closing in on you after leaving the cat lady. Move your feet before you need a flea dip like his ass.

My thoughts are swirling, as my feet feel like weights are anchoring them to the sidewalk. A shiver runs down my spine at the man's intense gaze approaching me. I can appreciate this unknown specimen's smooth, dark skin in the light of daybreak. Unlike our first encounter, he isn’t wearing his glasses, much to my displeasure. It’s crazy because I have never found a glasses-wearing man attractive.

Attractive… girl, bye. This sophisticated nerdy motherfucker would have Tony the Tiger giving two thumbs up with his signature Kool-Aid smile.

The man approaching me has to be over six feet tall with a muscular upper torso and biceps fighting for dominance in his shirt. His beard and plump bottom lip have a vision entering my mind of my nectar moisturizing both as his tongue attempts to catch every ounce. The diamond in his right earlobe is glistening against the sun’s rays. My eyes land on the bulge within the black joggers, which is deliciously covering his lower half. A motion on his thigh has me swallowing while taking an unconscious step backward.

Ooh, no, Pusetta… this nerdy mothafucker could have us out here like Wanda walking that ten-speed.

“He has another round in him if you want to show me which one of these spots is yours.” The deep, silky, and masculine timbre penetrates my ears, causing Pusetta to instantly moisten with her traitorous ass.

Had I known that moving to this complex would result in running into this man, I might have reconsidered and searched for another place of residence. I have only been living here for a couple weeks. Yet, my newly signed lease makes it impossible for me to avoid interactions with the nerdy motherfucker standing before me smiling like he’s said something worth me fawning over.

“Is that the weak ass line you told cat lady to have you leaving her house like one of the fleas with a day pass?”

“Damn. You’re hell,” he says as a low chuckle leaves his mouth, causing his entire face to brighten and my chest to tighten with a tingle of something I can’t identify.

Oh, hell no. Stop that shit, Ashari Weeks. Pusetta already showing her ass. We don’t want you to join her down the trap gate.

“Can you at least tell me what to call you before you start answering to Mine?”

“Oh, baby, you’re still here,” the syrupy sweet voice of the cat lady says, causing me to shake my head as the man in front of me loses his smile instantly.

“That is why my name isn’t something you’ll find out. Trust me, playboy dummy, if I was interested in routine flea dips, I would adopt a set of Siamese kittens of my own. Keep playing in that litter box because your dick could never handle this waterfall.” With that, I give a finger wave and head to my car, kicking myself for the lapse of judgment I had in entertaining the brief conversation.

“Damn. Why did you bring your ass out here, Honesty?” I hear, which causes me to giggle because of the aggressive tone of the man’s question.

When I reach my car and get in, I pause to watch my neighbor attempt to hug the man as he backs away from her with a grimace. The look of defeat on her face has me shaking my head, and a tinge fills my chest from being more invested in a man than he was to me. My ex, Marquan, had me thinking my pussy dripped in gold until three women approached me at my place to let me know about my man. Marquan’s dick roamed more than a cell phone in international waters, and my stupid ass thought the love he lied about having had been real.

Yet, you continue to hit the nigga up for cuddle and back rub sessions.

My conscience echoes the statement as I frown at the reality that Marquan still has an in because being single makes me vulnerable. The nigga also has magical hands that can rub the knots from my body like a trained professional. I can’t explain my need to call him for cuddle sessions, but his ass shows up every time to do my bidding. However, I think that’s because Marquan wants me to take him back and believes every rub and stroke of his leg on mine will grant him access to my heart again.

Talking about that man with fleas like Marquan isn’t hitting the twenty-four-hour clinic for routine injections. Humph, your dumb ass ain’t no better than the cat lady.

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