Page 2 of If I Had More Time

The anniversary gift was more along the lines of a reset button me and my wife offered one another. One pass, one lover, one day. It wasn’t a test of our marriage because we were happy in our union. No one could take my wife from me simply because I knew where her heart lied. She wore the Malore name proudly and became a reflection of me. She was the prize, and I would never forget it.

“Is she my wife or yours?” I questioned placing the cigar in my mouth.

“That’s not the point and you know it. By all means, take the anniversary gift she offers ‘cause that’s a hell of a gift, but don’tgive her the same one in return is what I’m saying. She ain’t supposed to be touched by no nigga but you.”

“She ain’t supposed to be nobody business but mine, either, yet here you are with her name in your mouth. My name ain’t been disrespected since I gave it to her. If you think her enjoying our anniversary is weird, then so be it. However, I lay next to my wife with a smile on my face. That’s eighteen years I ain’t questioned who was for me. Can you do the same?”

Hakeem wasn’t married and unlike me, he loved having women. I was overly content with my wife. She gave me a home no one else offered, not even my mother. She also loved me better than anyone else in my life, which was why I was trying my hardest to give her the world. In my eyes, that was the only thing good enough.

“You always trying to throw jabs. You only get like that when a muthafucka telling the truth,” he laughed while shaking his head.

“I get like this when it comes to my wife. I don’t give a fuck who you are. Slandering her name is slandering mine, and I don’t take too kindly to disrespect. Don’t play with me in here, Keem.”

I was never the kind of man to allow my wife to be disrespected. She was a representation of me through and through. It wasn’t shit about that woman I didn’t know, either. I would go to war with God for her. I loved my brother, but I loved my wife more.

Women weren’t thought about sexually before I met Naomi. I was a focused ass nigga with one thing on my mind… money. I had a plan and was sticking to it until she walked her pretty ass across the courtyard wearing a smile I couldn’t tear my gaze away from.

We been together since our freshman year in college. Nothing but nineteen years old learning each other, ourboundaries, as well as triggers for one another. A year later we were at the altar. She was a virgin and because I took her innocence we chose to do life with one another. It didn’t get no purer than that.

“Man, I ain’t even trying to go there with you. I will call the law on yo’ ass fa sho’ this go ‘round. You ain’t ‘bout to beat me down and think you ain’t ‘bout to do time,” he jested.

“Watch your mouth, and you won’t get hit in it. On the real though, this our shit and outside opinions really don’t matter. We got a decade under our belt getting ready to secure another and neither one felt the need to walk away. She really ain’t got a choice when it comes to us, though. She’ll see a grave before I let her leave me.”

“Nigga something wrong with you. When y’all leave to do that weird shit?” he questioned puffing on his gar.

“Tomorrow evening.”

“Hit me when you get back and shit. I’ll bring y’all anniversary gift over. Eighteen years really is a flex. I’m proud of you and sis’, regardless of how much shit I talk.”

It was all love from Keem. He did run his mouth too much, but he showed up for me and my wife without question. We were the only family he had. He cherished that shit much like I did. If he didn’t approve of our union, he would’ve voiced it a long time ago. Tonight was his opinion on how we exchanged one particular gift. He didn’t fuck with it and that was cool because the names signed on that marriage certificate was Tristan and Naomi. We didn’t do a damn thing to please anyone but the two in our marriage.

I finished off my drink, took one final pull of my cigar before putting it out, then stood to get the hell on. Hakeem was on his feet extending his hand in my direction. We dapped up, shared a brotherly hug, and parted ways. Spending time with my brother brought a different kind of peace to a nigga.

Hopping in my ride shortly after, I hit the main road and headed home. Waiting on me was a maple brown beauty so curvy my mind wondered anytime she invaded a nigga thoughts. I missed her voice, that fruity fragrance that always lingered, and the way she couldn’t keep her hands off me when I was in her presence. She was everything a man could ask for so fumbling her wasn’t in the cards at all.

I cruised through the Lake to Dean Creek where me and my wife resided. A gated community and the neighbors knew how to mind their business as well as run one. It was indeed packed out with those that had something attached to their names. One thing Eastlake was going to do was house entrepreneurs.

Hitting the key to the garage, I pulled in seconds later and parked beside my wife’s BMW. She would beat me home on any given day simply because she never left it. She was a retired professor. I entered the crib, and the smell of a fully cooked meal hit me instantly. I smiled knowing this treatment was rare.

As I walked through the house, I yelled out for her. “Mrs. Malore!”

She came down the stairs not even a second later dressed in an all red lingerie set. The silk robe that hung from her shoulders and the red heels that covered those pretty little toes added to the aesthetic. My eyes stayed on her the entire time she made her way to me. Once in reach, her arms snaked around my neck as mine claimed her waist.

Our lips found each other’s, sharing a kiss that made my shaft grow. All it took was her presence to settle within me. My attraction to her was beyond physical but the physical tended to consume a greater helping of her than anything else.

The kiss broke causing a brief wave of bitterness to wash over me. I wanted more but had entered the red zone and couldn’t. My time was coming again and when it did, I wasn’t holding back.

“Mmm, I missed you,” she moaned gently stroking my beard.

“Likewise.” I placed my head in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. Her scent was so alluring to me. I couldn’t get enough of it.

Pecking at her neck, I began torturing myself. We had less than twenty-four hours before we exchanged anniversary gifts, and I wasn’t quite ready. Even though I was blessed with a waterfall last night, I was yearning for another dose of it. She knew it, too. My hands were roaming her body like a kid that finally got his hands on candy.

“You got to stop baby, please. We’re in the red zone.”

“I need that, Mama. I know it’ll be as good as it looks.” My hands were on her ass giving light squeezes, the kisses on her neck continued, and her soft moans filled the room.

“Baby, if I give you all of me right here, right now, our anniversary would be ruined.” She was just as bothered as I was. Her body was reacting to the only person who had claims.

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