Page 44 of Cuffed By Your Love
I bit my bottom lip, feeling my cheeks warm. “It’s tempting, but if I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to pass out. Then you’ll have to explain to the paramedics why your girl is lying naked on the floor with a smile on her face and no electrolytes in her body.”
He laughed, rolled over onto his back, and stretched as if he hadn’t just been the personification of pleasure twelve hours ago.
“My girl,” he murmured, voice thick. “Hell yeah, that shit sounds good as hell. Good to hear you know you mine now. I’ll make your pretty ass some pancakes.”
“You cook?” I raised an eyebrow, grabbing my silk robe and shimmying into it like a woman who just got baptized in hood holiness.
“I do more than just cook,” he said, swinging his legs off the bed.
And sweet baby Jesus on MLK Blvd,… that man stood up in gray sweatpants.
Gray sweatpants. No underwear. He wore those gray sweatpants, no shirt, just tattoos and temptation. His sleepy, low-lidded expression suggested he had dreamt about me and woke up still in that fantasy.
And that thang was swanging like it had its own Social Security number.
“Elias Jamal Edmonds, if you don’t stop walking around with that monster hanging like it has rent to pay…”
He winked over his shoulder. “You’re acting like you didn’t just have a meeting with it last night.”
“I met it. I just haven’t processed it yet.”
By the time I finished my morning hygiene routine and made it to the kitchen, he was already at the stove with a bottle of syrup in one hand and a Bluetooth speaker playing some old-school Maxwell. A plate of bacon was already sizzling beside him.
“I like my pancakes fluffy with a bit of an edge,” I said, leaning against the counter.
“I like my women the same,” he declared, sweeping his eyes over my body and giving me a wink.
“Boy—”
“I’m serious, baby. I saw you getting in your head earlier when I said you’re my girl. I’m a detective, and I’m very observant. Don’t think too hard about it. I’m not that nigga you was fucking with. You belong to me, Jonay. And not just in that possessive, ‘I had you, so now you mine,’ type shit. But in that deep, grown man, I see your soul, and I still want every broken piece of your sexy ass type shit.”
My lip trembled as he continued to make me swoon.
“I don’t care how long it takes for you to fully trust it,” he continued, his voice smooth and captivating. “You are mine, in spirit, in skin, in softness, in fire. I know what it feels like to lose what you love. So, when I tell you I’m not going anywhere, believe that, mama.”
I nodded, tears blurring my vision.
“I feel safe with you, Elias,” I whispered. “I’ve never felt that way before, not even in my last relationship, where we were together for years. But this connection between us,” I said, pointing between him and me, “feels like home.”
He pressed his forehead against mine.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him softly, slowly, and with certainty. We didn’t even eat right away. We stood there, holding each other as if breakfast could wait, butlove couldn’t. In the stillness of that moment, with syrup cooling and eggs growing cold, I realized I wasn’t just falling for Elias; I was finally rising in love.
My phone lit up with his name.
Detective Fine Shyt AKA Mr. Elias Jamal Edmonds.
He had the name that walked into a room first, the type of name that carried a whole chest behind it. Steady, certain. It buzzed across my screen while I was folding warm towels fresh out of the dryer, and my heart did that messy little jump like I’d been caught sneaking sweets before dinner.
I answered, pretending my voice wasn’t two octaves higher than usual. “Detective.”
“Hey, Deputy Gorgeous. You still owe me that date,” he said, that baritone soft but sure, the sound of someone already smiling.
I pushed a towel into a neat square and set it down, smirking. “Brick & Ember wasn’t a date?”
“That was me ambushing you.” He chuckled lightly. “I mean a real one. One where I take the lead, cuff you properly, and show you what it feels like to let a man court you without hesitation.”
Heat flared across my cheeks.Cuff me properly?Sir. “And what does that look like, Detective Fine Shyt?”
