Page 36 of Regancy & Savior
“You know you fine as fuck when you act up.”
I set his ketchup on the counter and left his ass in the kitchen alone. He asked me not to go home; he didn’t say shit about his living room.
“You’ll pay for that petty shit,” he said from behind me.
By the time I had finally located his remote and found out how to turn the TV on, he was walking into the living room. I made myself comfortable, and I was surfing the channels in search of something to watch.
“You call yo’self still mad at me or…” he started.
“I’m not mad. I just thin?—”
“If you’re thinking anything with us not being like this, then delete the thought from ya brain, baby.” He pulled his shirt from his body and tossed it on the other side of the sofa. Seconds later, he was crawling between my legs, laying on top of me. He rested on my chest like there wasn’t any more space on this sofa.
“You don’t tell me what to do, Savior.”
He chuckled. “Never have. I just make suggestions that I’d like for you to take serious. Now come get in the bed, I’m not tryna slee?—”
“Nigga, I’m not getting in a bed that you fucked another bitch in. And I don’t give a care if you changed the sheets.” My face was screwed up.
He laughed. “How you know I didn’t hit her off right here?”
“Couch is too uncomfortable and expensive to be fucking on.” I made direct eye contact with him. “Am I right?”
“You were right up until now.” He eased his hands up my thigh.
I smiled. “And what does that mean?” I tried to look over his head while pointing the remote in the direction of the TV.
“Exactly what I said.” In one swift motion, he snatched the remote from my hand and tossed it on the other side of the sectional.
“I’m not—” My sentence was cut short by his lips covering mine. He shut me up while using his hands to push my shorts down.Yes I am. There’s no way I can tell this man no and actually mean it.
He rested his hand on my exposed thigh as we rode in the direction of the welcome home party that he promised me he was just showing face to before we went to dinner. “Thirtyminutes tops,” he repeated that for the third time since we’d been in the car. If I didn’t know any better, he didn’t want to go his-damn-self.
“You know if you don’t want to go somewhere, you really don’t have to go.” I glanced over at him. It was a joke.
He chuckled. “You’re right, but in my position, certain things have to be done to feel a motherfucker out. I can’t send somebody. I gotta do it myself.” His revelation seemed heavy.
I nodded. I wasn’t sure of what he was talking about.
“Who is he?” I questioned.
He laughed. “How do you know it’s a nigga?
“It better be.” I said a little more aggressive than I meant to.
He chuckled as we pulled in front of the already-thumping club. “Beck, pull around the back, and we’ll go in that way. We’ll only be here for?—”
“Thirty minutes. I got it, boss.” He finished because he, too, had heard Savior repeat that same sentence.
I giggled silently as I kept my attention now on the dark alley that we’d just turned into. I’d never gone into a club through the back entrance before. Honestly, who was I kidding? I didn’t do clubs. I was more of thestay inornice dinnertype. That was why it took so long for me to agree to come with him.
Seconds later, my door was opened, and we were exiting the car. I was only standing outside the car for five seconds before his hand graced my backside. Once we entered the back entrance and were in a hall leading narrowly to a set of stairs, he grabbed my hand and led me up after he allowed Jeff to lead the way while Beck found somewhere to park the car.
Before we exited the hall, he leaned into me and spoke. “I’on really like the length of this dress.” His hands rubbed my thigh before tugging at the material.
I giggled. “I thought you liked it.”
“Privately, hell yeah. But in public, hell nah, because I can’t touch you the way I want to.” He kissed the side of my face.
