Page 24 of Yes! Professor Hendrix
I brought her face up with two fingers under her chin.
“Hey. Baby. You don’t owe me an apology. I was hurt, yeah. Watching you walk away with him cut deep. But I get your fear. I’m intense. I’m a lot. And sometimes I lack patience. But I’ll give you all the time you need, alright? No pressure.”
She nodded and I took her to our bedroom. She took a long-ass shower while I set up some food for us. When she was done, I went to wash off all the shit from earlier.
Cleaned up, dried, and moisturized, I joined her back in the room. She was in this little night dress—tiny as fuck, teasing me with every curve. Her tits poking against the fabric, and that lil thong barely covering her pussy. My dick got hard on sight. She knew exactly what she was doing and it was killing me, because I promised I’d wait.
But damn.
I pushed past my lust and we ate in peace before getting ready for bed.
“I can sleep on the couch,” I offered. “Just gonna go kiss the girls goodnight.”
In the girls’ room, they were chatting like long lost best friends.
“Now it’s bedtime, girls. I’ma give y’all goodnight kisses, and then I don’t want to hear no mouths talking, aight? You’ll have time to catch up tomorrow when Daddy takes you to the mall.”
They screamed like I gave ‘em a million dollars. I kissed both their foreheads and turned off the light.
“Goodnight, girls.”
“Good night, Daddy Lan,” Aja said.
“Good night, Papa,” Marisa whispered. “I love you, Daddy Nolan. Thank you for coming to get us.”
Fuck. That little voice and that sentence had me emotional as hell. I felt whole. Like everything was finally where it was supposed to be.
“I love you too, baby girl. I’ll always be here to protect you and your mom. That’s a promise. Now get some sleep.”
Back in our room, I found Lena already curled up under the covers. I leaned in and kissed her forehead, ready to head to the couch.
“Come sleep in the bed, baby,” she said softly.
“You sure?”
“Please come sleep with me. I’m still replaying that shit with Lex and I don’t think I can sleep. I need you to hold me in your arms. Please.”
Hearing her say that broke something in me and I didn’t hesitate. I slid in beside her and pulled her close.
“You don’t gotta worry about anything, mama. I’m here to keep you safe.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
We closed our eyes. But then… I felt her hand. Soft, slow movement brushing against my stomach. Her fingertips grazed my abs, and that had my breath catching in my throat. Then her palm flattened, warm and steady, pressing against my lower belly like she needed to anchor herself there. And fuck, I felt it. Every nerve in me lit up. Her hand slid lower, teasing rightalong the waistband of my boxers. She traced the line slowly, like she was asking my body for permission before slipping beneath. Then her fingers found my dick—already hard as fuck, aching. She wrapped her hand around it, slow, gentle, but with a grip that said she knew exactly what she was doing. I let out a low growl from deep in my chest, trying to maintain control but barely hanging on. With every stroke her touch was telling me everything her mouth hadn’t said yet and I felt it in every part of me—this woman, my woman, claiming me again in the quietest, most dangerous way.
“You know a nigga’s trying hard to be patient, right? You’re not making it easy, baby.”
She didn’t say shit. Just kept stroking me.
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
“I want you to fuck me,” she whispered, soft but raw, like the words burned her lips on the way out.
I inhaled deep, grabbed her hand gently, pulled it out my boxers and set it still between us. I had to pause—fuck, I needed to pause. Her touch had me on edge, but this moment wasn’t about release. It was about truth.
“I can’t do that,” I said, voice low but steady as I held her eyes.
Her face shifted fast—hurt flashed so quick it punched me in the gut. “Oh… You don’t want me?” she said, voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I thought you…”
