Page 17 of Hooked on Loving Him

“I’m a follower of Jesus, and I believe that every situation we face can be overcome through prayer. My suggestion for you is to pray and ask God to reveal what you need to see in this, equip you with the strength to go through while you and I sort it out, and help you release the guilt from your mind that’s keeping you bound. You and I have some work to do, but right now, at this hour, I feel led to send you to someone bigger than myself. While I don’t have the presence of mind to say the right words to you, I trust that God can handle you far better than I’m capable of right now.”

“I have done so much throughout my life that I’m scared He won’t hear me,” I whisper as rapid tears fall from my eyes, causing me to hang my head.

“Isaiah fifty-nine verse one contradicts your very statement. Try it, and if it doesn’t work tonight, we’ll explore other options during your next session.”

“How?” Emotion clogs my throat, making the word shaky beyond my ability to correct as I wipe away the moisture continually falling.

“My bible tells me that He’s closer than a brother, so this doesn’t have to be complicated at all. It’s an open dialog between you and the Father. Plain and simple.”

A low chuckle escapes my mouth at the reminder of Jawaan’s call from earlier as a light feeling spreads throughout my body.

“I cuss out my brothers, Letitia.”

“Well, eliminate those words and tell God what you need from Him.”

“Bet. Thanks for picking up, Letitia. I appreciate you.”

“No problem. I trust God with you, Kayshon. See you soon.”

“Why doesthis keep happening to me, God?” I ask while wiping my face from the wetness soaking my cheeks.

Because you’re hardheaded and you know it. Your car has been on its last leg, and you refuse to get something more trustworthy.

Unlike the tire incident not long ago, smoke is billowing from under the hood of my car as I stare helplessly. As if things can’t get any worse, the sky is becoming darker by the minute, alerting me of an impending storm. Thunder sounds, causing me to jump as I contemplate who to call to come to rescue me. Mom and Dad are out of town, so they’re out of the question, and calling Marquan isn’t possible unless I want to pay him back in pussyand ass claps. Despite the darker skies, I’m grateful it's not too late for someone with ill intentions to prey on me.

*doom*

The sound of a door closing has heat rising on my neck and my jitters invading my body.

All right, God, not too long ago, you called me victorious over the battles in my life. Please don’t let this be the time I question the truth in the words you spoke about me.

“Go get in my ride. My boy, Kyrie, is sending somebody to pick up your car,” a voice I shouldn’t be familiar with pierces my ear canal, causing me to turn and acknowledge the man it's attached to.

Damn. Did this nigga get hotter since the last time I saw him? Ooh, you’re a vengeful God. I told Papa Ren I would come. You didn’t have to send this nigga.

“Which part of my statements are you having trouble understanding?”

My neck snaps back as my mouth twists, and my hands gravitate to my waist at this nigga’s audacity.

“Excuse me.”

“Unless you enjoy dancing in the rain and shit, beat your feet,” he says aggressively as the sky opens up and a drop of water hits the top of my head.

Why are my damn nipples pebbling?

“Come on, man. This shit is about to get ugly.”

Huffing and rolling my eyes, I open my driver’s door, snatch my purse from the passenger seat, and do as I’m told while ignoring the purring of my pussy with each step I take.

“I don’t know who he thinks he is talking to like that,” I say after entering the passenger side of the vehicle as a masculine and oak scent permeates my nostrils deliciously.

Your ass, but forget that… Doesn’t this scent warm you like chili on a wintry evening?

Closing my eyes, I allow myself a few minutes to enjoy the scent of whatever cologne nerdy Hulk is wearing. Clenching my thighs, I fight the urge to rub against the seat to saturate my clothing, hoping it will last beyond my exit from this vehicle and his presence.

*doom*

“What the fuck are you doing in my seat?” I jump at hearing the door slam, knowing he’s caught me trying to acquaint myself with the fabric of his vehicle to capture the essence of his scent.

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