“Get your fucking hands off me, Marcos. He was doing the same thing you should’ve been doing, outside of my fucking door, begging. You got some fucking nerve coming to me after yo’ damn baby momma jumped on my ass. What the fuck were you doing? Over there, nursing that bad wig-wearing bitch’s wounds?” She pointed her finger in my face, “Bitch should’ve been mad about that fucked up lace instead of me. She shouldn’t have jumped stupid if she didn’t want her ass beat! Both of y’all niggas got me fucked up!” She was breathing like a damn dragon. She was so mad. I was turned on as fuck by her feistiness, but there were a few things I had to address. A few moments in her presence, I felt myself being drawn out of this argument. She was too damn pretty to fuss with.
“For one, that’s the last time you ever mention me in the same sentence with any other nigga. I couldn’t leave the opening, but I called yo’ ass a million times before you blocked me. I ain’t worried about no other female but you. You think I’m gone risk somebody else in this pussy? So, if that nigga values his life, then that better be the last time he darkens your fucking doorstep.” I said, reaching out and grabbing her waist. She slapped my hand away.
“Control your hoes. He wasn’t even in my house. I haven’t even touched him since before we started talking.”
“Don’t fucking play with me, Dyami. I will have that nigga family crying, and his Barber will paint that nigga hairline one final time. I told you already all that other shit is dead! I can’t believe you was out here fucking with a nigga with a recedinghairline. If that nigga was ever the answer for you, what was the question?”
“I said what I said! I didn’t have him over here. I didn’t even know he was coming! He just fucking popped up!” She said, putting a mug on her face, and we had an intense stare down for a moment. Soon enough, a smile cracked through on both of our faces, and we began to laugh. The shit seemed so silly. As I watched her throw her head back in laughter, all I thought was damn, this was my woman. Finally, after all this time, I had her. Just looking at her and rehearsing in my head how we just sounded, I knew staying mad was irrelevant. She wasn’t thinking about anybody else, just like I wasn’t. This was Dyami, and I knew her.
“Aye, man, bring yo’ mean ass here.” I pulled her to me.
“No,” she said, smiling and rolling her eyes.
“Stop fucking with me like that and come here since you slapping a nigga on his birthday.”
She finally gave in and broke down. I pulled her in for a kiss. I lost myself in her mouth, and she was aggressive with her tongue. She was ready, but I wanted to take a moment to slow things down. I broke apart from her and looked into her eyes to speak.
“You mine. I’m yours, and I want you to understand that. Ain’t no walking away because I ain’t doing shit to fuck this up. This was the place I dreamed of being with you since I was a jit. I'd like you to meet my son, because we need to work out how we will coexist. I’m going to get shit on record and handle my business the right way, so what happened tonight won’t ever happen again. I’m going to the courthouse first thing Monday morning.”
“I guess since I’m not mad, I should give you your gift now.” She stood and went to her closet, and I sat down.
“It’s not much, but I am hoping you see where I was going with this.” The first bag she held had my favorite cologne. Baccarat Rouge 540. The next bag widened my smile. She had matching outfits for my son and me. They fit him perfectly, and I never told her his size. Lastly, she made a collage of me when I was a kid.
“Wow. How the hell did you do this?” I asked, admiring it. Shit, I was a fly ass nigga even when I was young.
“I may have had some help from Chubby. I figured you could fill in the blank spaces on the collage with MJ.”
She sat next to me, and it took me a few moments to find my words. I wanted to get things straight between us before we went any further. I may have never been in a legitimate relationship, but I knew how I wanted to be treated, and that is the same way I was going to treat her.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
“I know we never really talked about it, but I know you ain’t crazy. You know what I do, and you know the type of nigga I am. I appreciate your understanding in not judging me on that. Just know that this ain’t the end game for me. I got a kid, and I plan on having a few with you.”
“Uh, hold up, I damn sure ain’t getting pregnant without having some type of ring,” she said, twisting her mouth up.
“You got that,” I chuckled and continued. “So, now we've got to move you out of here and get you something nice to drive. I ain’t feeling any nigga showing up to your door, and theneighborhood ain’t the best. You don’t have to live with me right off, but somewhere different than this.”
“Marcos, I like my house. I know it ain’t nothing compared to how you are living, but I worked for this.”
“I’m not trying to negate that. You work hard and you're a good ass woman, but I know shit gets hard for you on account of you helping out your mom and sister. I’m just trying to take that pressure off. Even if we weren’t together, I would do that off the strength of our friendship. Just let a nigga help you out. Everything will be in your name if that makes you more comfortable.”
She thought for a minute and answered with a slow nod. I could take that in stride, and it was a breath of fresh air when it wasn’t sought out. Now that she was mine, I wanted to make sure she was good on everything.
“I have one more request for my birthday.”
“What’s that?” She snapped her head my way.
“I want to watch you.”
She looked at me with a confused look on her face. “What you were talking about on the yacht?” She recalled.
“More, but yes.” I led her to the bathroom. I turned on the shower. Confused at first, her lips opened, but she closed them before any words escaped. She allowed me to undress her until she stood bare before me.
“You so damn perfect, Dyami. Everything about this body. My body. Looking at you like this is one of my favorite things.” I dropped a kiss on her shoulder, and my dick swelled even more. She reached out and caressed it through my pants, and I didn’t stop her. I reached for the shower and turned it on. I got undressed and we stepped inside together. We didn’t stay asneutral as I hoped, but I was able to contain myself enough not to enter her while we washed each other.
When we stepped out, I could feel everything around us a little more vibrantly—the scent of the vanilla incense burning wafted to my nose. The candles she had lit all over the house that I hadn’t noticed before set the mood. I asked myself if she was waiting for me or trying to calm herself from the bullshit that had just happened. Either way, it gave this night a perfect backdrop.
