Page 8

H arlem

I woke up in his arms but then he had to leave. Not only did he have to get Aja to school but he had to get to the shop. I couldn’t be mad, shit I was too tired to be mad. The way he’d handled my body last night, making sure to have me teetering over an edge I didn’t realize existed, had me forgetting about all of my responsibilities. Until I heard my alarm go off for the third time after I had already snoozed it. Then again I thought it was my alarm, but no matter how many times I pressed the side button on my phone, it kept vibrating. Finally I glanced down and it wasn’t my alarm at all but instead my mother.

“Yes,” I answered, my voice and body filled with the type of exhaustion only a man could aid in creating.

“I’m parked out front and I have bags. You’ll either come out here and help me or let me curse your ass out when I get in the house.”

“Um. What are you doing here?”

“Coming to see my daughter. The only one I have and the one about to get her narrow ass cursed out if she doesn’t come out here and get these bags.”

I lifted my head and stared at the time on the phone. It was barely six in the morning. What the hell was she doing up and out this way? Instead of fussing, I pushed the covers from my body and rose like the dead in a scary movie. It was then I realized I was naked. Of course I was naked, that man had explored my body like a map to a nomad. I didn’t have time to get dressed, so I didn’t. Seconds later a white T-shirt that wasn’t mine swallowed me like a dress and a pair of sleep shorts that were mine graced my bottom. I met my mother at the steps and of course I knew she was still about to have my ass.

“You told me there was no more Zax. So whose shirt are you wearing?” she asked as soon as we were both in the house. I had let my older dogs out while she watched my every move.

“And how do you know it isn’t mine?”

“Because when I hugged you, I smelled a man’s cologne. Too fresh.” She tilted her head to the side, now waiting for an answer.

I asked a question of my own. “What are you doing in the city?”

“One, don't change the subject on me. And two, I’m having a girls’ day with Pam and the girls, so I figured I’d get a head start on driving.”

“Oh, okay.” I turned and peeked out the door at my dogs.

“And he is? Wait, he wouldn't happen to be the man your father called me and told me put him out of your shop, would he?” Amusement in her eyes awaited my answer.

I didn’t mean to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. “He told you about that?”

“Yes, and he also told me the man is a demon.”

I shrugged. “That he isn’t, but uh yeah, him.” I let the dogs in and continued into the other room to care for the puppies. Tato stayed up with her puppies while Tilly went back to sleep. This pregnancy was whooping her ass and I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I wasn’t going to breed her again, just because I saw how it affected her. After she had this litter, I’d have her spayed and keep her as a pet. I had been doing this thing for years and did good in not keeping dogs from my litter. My mom had Judah, my second ever female bred, a standard blue Frenchie. Though she was mine my mom had asked me for her since she lived alone and felt she needed companionship. Then my brother had Moma & Juice. While Juice was technically mine as well, she was also his. Tilly’s litter was my next, but my most anticipated was from Tato and Moma.

“So if he isn’t like that, what is he like?”

“Kind. We’re still getting to know one another, mama,” I called out loudly while continuing my morning duties.

“So, you say, but you smell like him and you’re wearing his shirt. That indicates not only has he spent a night here, but he has also been in your bed.”

“Mom.” I began wiping Tilly’s wrinkles. At this stage in her pregnancy, she was nesting and refusing to go outside half of the time unless I either carried her big ass or led her out with food. Either way I kept puppy pads handy and always made sure a close eye was on her. After making sure everyone was well fed and taken care of after they came in from outside, I met my mother back in my kitchen. She was making breakfast.

“So you like him?” She settled on asking.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well. When can I meet him?” I felt her eyes on me while I looked anywhere but at her.

“When I know what I want from this.”

“When you know what you want from it? What the hell does that mean, Harlem? The man is lying in your bed and between your legs. You better be clear on what you expect and what you want.” She was already starting her lecture, so I had to stop her before she got in too deep.

“Mama. That’s not what I meant. What I mean is I know what I need and what this is, but I’m not yet comfortable. Yes, I like him and I’m sure he likes me. I’m not rushing anything. Whatever happens will happen.”

“Well. I can accept that. I shouldn’t have had to show up and make breakfast to learn about him though.”

I laughed. If only she showed up an hour earlier, she would’ve met him. Thank God for small victories.

“And another thing. I know you’re still reeling from that mess with Zax. Yes, you should be cautious, but don’t let his stupid actions make you miss out on what may actually be for you. Now I won’t badger you to meet him, but don’t make me wait too long. You know I get impatient.”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And another thing… Lenny’s daughter Cecilia. She’s a school counselor, a nice girl. She’s looking to purchase a dog from you. I told her I would check in to see what you had and get back to her.”

I nodded. “Cool. I have one left from this litter since the other is getting picked up tomorrow. I decided to keep the full suited.”

She laughed. “You’ve never kept a boy. Why now?”

I laughed as well. Everybody in my life knew me, so this was indeed a shock. “I don’t know, he’s cute. Plus I’ve already named him Bleu.”

“Well, okay. I’m gonna give her your number.”

“Okay.” My mom and I talked for a while longer, then she had to get going. She had a sunrise yoga class with her friends and didn’t want to be late. That was fine with me because it meant I could go back to sleep. At least that’s what I thought until my phone was ringing again.

Irritation coursed through my veins when I saw it was Hari. Ever since Joseph showed up to my shop showing his ass, I’d had a bad taste in my mouth when it came to both of them. Not only that, but Hari had texted me a few times telling me how fucked up I was. I didn’t respond either time but that entitled shit he and Joseph had going on irked me.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“What’s up, sis?” He sounded chipper, which meant one of two things. He was either about to ask me for some money or probably even a damn organ. He was his father’s son, so sadly I never knew what to expect.

Before I could respond, he was already talking and already pissing me off.

“Me and my boy are on the way to your house. He was looking to buy a dog. How much do you sell them for again?”

“Excuse me. On your way where?”

“Yo’ crib. That’s where yo—” he started but I stopped him in the door.

“Don’t ever bring anybody to my fucking house. What the hell do you mean?”

“Damn, I was tryna do your ungrateful ass a favor. Shit, you could’ve at least gave m?—”

“Hari, you don’t sell my dogs, I do. I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you this. My business has nothing to do with you or your father.” I hung up the phone before he could say anything else.

I was so pissed off that going to sleep was no longer an option. I got up and instead went to check on the dogs.

* * *

“W ho pissed you off, handsome?” I asked, standing at his side, watching him tear into the pasta dish I’d brought with me over to his place tonight. I spent most of my day at home with my dogs and going over numbers for the shop. I was finally turning over a feasible profit, enough to where I was able to not only pay for breeding, but also have enough money left over to not be going into my savings every other month. Money looked good.

“Why did somebody have to make me mad?” he asked, not pausing a bit on his eating.

“Because as soon as I walked in the door, I smelled cake and there one is, freshly made and iced. If I’m not mistaken, you told me that you bake when you get mad.”

He chuckled. “I bake to keep from knocking a motherfucker off. But nothing too bad.”

I just looked at him, hearing his answer and not finding myself the least bit bothered. Why wasn’t I? Because OA was my brother.

“What do you do?” I asked finally. I’d wanted to ask plenty of times, but never had the courage. Not until now.

I was spending too much time with this man to not know what all he was into.

“I make money and stay out of the way, baby.”

Again I just looked at him, this time waiting for a real answer because the one he had just given me was a bunch of crap.

When he realized I hadn’t responded, he glanced over at me, eyes heavy with irritation. Kinga hated to be questioned.

“My name is tied to a lot of shit, Harlem. I handle my business and keep it quick. Now if that answer doesn't work, then tell me what would.” This time he didn’t look at me. Instead he grabbed one of the bottles of water on the counter and opened it. He chugged it, then reached for the next. By the time he was done chugging the second one I was already moving in the direction of his bedroom.

I didn’t know what answer I expected from him, but shit. The vagueness of his responses irked me. I wasn’t expecting him to tell me he was a drug lord or anything like that, but something. Then again, did I? I was getting attached to this man, so the last thing I needed was to know he lived the type of life that carried a high chance of him being taken… from me.

I stripped down and climbed into his shower as if it were mine in no time. I needed to think about my expectations of him. Everything was fine when we said we were seeing where this went, now weeks later it was going and I was getting attached. I didn’t know how long I was standing in the shower before I heard the door opening.

“Why do you care what I do, Harlem?” He stepped into my space, cornering me between him and the ivory shower tile while the heavy water beat against his back.

“Because I wanna make sure I’m not setting myself up for failure getting emotionally attached to you. There's a saying we’ll see where this goes and then actually being around to see where this goes… the action part that some people seemingly forget..”

“We way past saying that shit, sweetheart. I’m attached to you and I intend to see where this goes.” He tilted my head up and made me look at him. “I own a few businesses, as well as facilitate the sales of weapons across city lines. I also own a few blocks, nothing too major there though. I’m just a man making shit happen and keeping his name clean.” He pecked my lips.

I just looked at him, completely thrown but not really. I knew he wasn’t just a mechanic shop owner. He exuded so much power and commanded a type of respect only street dudes got. In a way he was hood rich, but he didn’t claim it or pay it any attention.

“Is that a problem for you?” he asked, voice heavy.

“No. Just be honest with me.”

“I got you.” His hand found my neck, pushing me back against the tile. “Now I’m finna complicate some shit for us, then you’re about to go out here and warm me up some more food with your stubborn ass.”

Complicate some shit?

I was confused until he picked me up and carried us to the shower bench in the back of his shower.

I was about to ask what he meant, but before I could, I felt like I was being impaled in the best way possible.

I was suspended, him holding me inches from his body while he pushed upward into me.

I felt like my body was betraying me, like it didn’t belong to me, but instead to him, while he deviously impaled me, sending his thick, hard shaft to depths I didn’t think anyone had even explored, not Zax or even me with the toy in my top drawer.

“Shhhitt,” I moaned, feeling my stomach balling up and vibrations through my clit. I squeezed tight, earning a grunt from him, but it didn’t slow him down. Fuck I didn’t want him to!

Kinga had a map to my body with the way he had me pinned and bent like a fucking pretzel.

“Keep doing that shit, you’re gonna… Fuck!” He buried the whole top row of his teeth into his bottom lip. “You fucking with me, Harlem.”

I smiled, but it didn’t last long because before I knew it my back was against the wet glass, like he was trying to put me through it.

“Kin…Kinga,” I moaned, feeling my core balling and my legs widening. My slick folds puckered for him while his hardness repeated motions, summoning an orgasm strong enough to wreck me.

Grinding forward, I accepted each thrust with a meeting of my own, attempting to lessen the shattering, but I couldn’t. I was coming so hard, his continuous touch sent tremors to every part of my body he was still touching. Pure ecstasy, almost as strong as the edibles I tried years ago, washed over me and I felt him like a wave in the ocean. Like water to a heatwave. I felt him so deep my whole existence started to unravel right there. What started out as coordinated thrusts on his part lost rhythm and before I knew it, he was coming too, holding onto me like I might disappear at any moment.

Hours later we lay in his bed talking like the best of friends about days we were both glad had passed. Who was I kidding when I said I was getting attached to this man. Shit I was already attached to this man.

Damn time.

Damn fate.

Damn anything that attempted to remind me how fast this happened.

“You wanna tell me who pissed you off earlier?” he asked when we were finally lying in his bed. He was on his side staring at me while I lay on my back, eyes glued to the ceiling.

“When?” Confusion swept my features until I remembered exactly why I’d gotten mad earlier. Hari. “My brother.”

“Who, the older one?” he asked, hand easing up and down my chest.

“No, not OA. Hari. The brother on my father’s side.”

His expression went cold and I felt his energy rise. “What he do?”

I gave him the rundown of what happened with Hari earlier, and immediately he understood why I was pissed. I didn’t know if that was because he was a street dude or what. He even seemed pissed himself. We talked for a long while after, him assuring me that I wasn’t wrong, that Hari was indeed weird as hell like I initially thought.

“I told you I’d trunk a nigga for you, Harlem, and I mean that shit.”

I cheesed hard, even though what he was saying was nearly homicidal. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” His hand massaged up and down my back as I lay with my face against his bare chest. “People gotta know I won’t fuck around behind you, baby girl.”

Sleep came easy in his arms, a security I didn’t remember ever really experiencing with Zax. Kinga’s presence made me feel like nothing else mattered.

The next morning I was up earlier than him and his niece, because I was so used to dealing with my dogs. Instead of going back to sleep, I freshened up before making my way into the kitchen. There I found the things to make breakfast. I was halfway through an episode of SVU and had a stack of pancakes on the plate when I heard small feet coming toward the kitchen.

When I looked up, Aja was standing in the doorway with a toothy smile. Baby girl’s hair was all over her head, coils thick and knotted up.

“Hi, Harlem.”

“Hey, pretty girl, are you hungry?” I asked, rolling the sausages and flipping the bacon. One thing I loved about Kinga’s kitchen was the double stove. He had one against the wall with the traditional burners and the other in the center of the island with flat burners. It was aesthetically pleasing, but also lovely when I was cooking multi-step dinners.

“Can I help you?” she asked, moving to the side of the island where the tools were.

“I’m pretty much done, pretty girl. But you can do the most important job of all. Are you up for it?”

Excitedly, she nodded. “Yes, what is it?”

“Help me plate the food or go wake up your grumpy uncle.”

She thought about it for a minute, eyes moving from the food to the doorway that led to the stairs. “Um, I think I’m gonna wake up Uncle. Can you make my plate though?”

I laughed. “Yeah lil mama I got you.”

She raced from the kitchen to Kinga’s bedroom while I removed the plates from the cabinet. I made plates and listened to the TV talk until I heard his voice. I placed Kinga’s plate on the island then went to make Aja’s. It didn’t take long since she didn’t even eat half of what her uncle ate.

“He’s up!” she squealed, running back into the room.

I nodded, then got her situated at the island, waiting on her uncle.

Kinga entered the kitchen a few minutes later shirtless, in a pair of basketball shorts and Gucci slides. His hair flowed freely, bringing heat to my cheeks. This man looked so good that sometimes I couldn’t help but admire him.

“Can I have some syrup, Harlem?” Aja’s voice interrupted my trance.

“Uh yeah.” I turned around and grabbed it for her before placing it down on the counter. She was a big girl, so I knew she didn’t need me to pour it for her.

He was at my side, frame to my shoulder blade. “You can’t be doing shit like this, lil mama. I’ma fuck around and get used to it.”

I laughed.

“I’m dead serious, but you’ll see when I’m walking around pissed off ’cause you ain’t making me breakfast.”

“It’s not that serious.”

“The fuck it is. Like I said. You can’t let me touch you like I do and make me breakfast in the morning. I’ma mess around and get used to this.”

I couldn’t hold the smile that found its way onto my face. When it came to him I couldn’t hold much of anything. That probably should have scared me, but it didn’t. I liked him too much too fast.

“You spending the day with me?” he asked.

“Uncle, Sabastian’s birthday is today. He asked me to come. Can you take me?”

“Who the fu… who is Sabastian?” He corrected himself because Aja hated when he cursed. He said she even asked him to put a swear jar in the house. I found that so funny even though he was pissed.

“My friend at school. He’s really nice and he’s older. We met in the office on my first day.”

“Hell nah. I know the fu—” he started, but I elbowed him. “Don’t fucking elbow me. Are you talking about that lil bad ass boy?” His attention was set on his niece.

She nodded, still digging into her food. Baby girl didn’t even know she was in danger.

“How the fuck you know his birthday, Aja?”

“We Snapchat, silly.”

“’Bout fucking what?” He tilted his head to the side and I immediately closed my eyes. He was about to have a fit and I knew it. He had that protective look about him.

“Go get the fucking iPad, Aja,” Kinga roared and that was my cue to find a corner and sit in it.

She looked confused when she realized he wasn’t the joking uncle she was used to but instead a pissed off caregiver thinking he’d given her too much freedom.

“Um. I’m going to go to your bedroom. I’ll clean this up in a fe?—”

He cupped my chin, bringing my lips to his. “Nah, stay yo’ ass right here. As a matter of fact, get up here.” He then helped me onto the counter and stepped between my legs.

I turned behind me and pulled a piece of pancake from his plate and held it to his lips. He accepted it, eyes locked on me in the most seductive way possible.

Our eye contact only broke when Aja returned to the room with her tablet in hand and a frown.

“What’s wrong, Uncle?”

“The fact that I told you that you’re too young for a boyfriend and that’s exactly what it seems like you think you got.”

I ended up checking my emails and text messages while he gave Aja a long, drawn out lecture of what he thought was the game. I managed to keep my composure throughout but lost it momentarily when he told her she wasn’t going to some lil nigga’s house party because shit happened there. I swear this fool was crazy, but he loved his niece. When she began to pout, he offered to take her to the arcade. Of course she accepted and took flight to her room to get dressed while I just looked at him. He was so handsome, so uncle daddy-ish.

“The fuck you getting in the bed for? You're going with us.”

“Uh, why? You said you and her. Uncle and niece.”

He laughed. “Because if you keep letting me between the way you do, you’re on your way to being her auntie.” A wink followed.

“So just because of my sex?”

He shook his head. “Nah, plenty more reasons, but most of all because I fuck with you in a way I ain’t never fucked with anybody else.”

I didn’t respond. I just lay there and looked at him, wondering to myself if his answer sufficed. It did, but I was overthinking, praying I didn’t find myself in the same situation as last time… Thinking everything was fine when, in fact, he wanted a break. Kinga wasn’t that type though. He was the “say what you feel and feel what you say” type, a through and through street dude with no regard for any intention that differed from his.

“Now get your fine ass up before I meet you over there and Aja be mad at both of us ’cause we won’t make it to no damn arcade.”