Page 21 of Cove City, Volume II

“Shit!” I spat.

I almost wanted to toss this phone across the fucking room. When my phone rang with Tuesday’s name appearing, I almost broke my goddamn hand trying to answer. I had been lying here for hours, glancing at myself in my ceiling mirror. Flashes of her and I came across my mind, like her grimacing face as I fucked her from behind, or me stroking her softly while she slept. She was all I could think about, and the more Tuesday swirled in my mind, the more I was eager to find Quinton.

They had called me and told me he was at some stripper bitch’s house, but by the time I got there, the nigga had dipped off. The shit had me tighter than a bitch who wore too small panties. I slammed my hand on the side of me before I swung the cover off. The sound of her sweet moans was like a repeating record in my head. I swear, when Tuesday and I made up, I was putting her ass through a mattress. We needed to make up for lost time.

I missed the way her pussy felt around a nigga, but most of all, I missed her in my presence. Tuesday tried to act like she had it all together, but neither of us did. I knew she was hurting, and I wanted to be the one she confided in. Instead, I had to settle for silent conversations that were making me lose my fucking mind.

I wasn’t one of those niggas that jacked off. However, I would have to make an exception because me floating in free-for-all pussy wasn’t an option. In my mind, she was coming back, and until then, me and this hand were about to become best friends. “Fuck!.

“I grumbled.

I got up from the bed and made my way to the bathroom. I flicked on the lights and glanced at myself in the mirror. It had always been something about staring at myself in the mirror that had been a moment of reflection. Here I was looking at a man who once was overloaded with insecurities, chasing the world to be noticed. Limiting the access women had to me so I wouldn’t get hurt because I was never the chosen guy, yet the guy they had to choose. The man who was loyal to people who served me no purpose; like Quinton and Naheem. It took me years to come out of that feeling, and for a second, I was feeling like that person again. I grabbed the lotion, flicked the lights off, and left my thoughts and insecurities in the bathroom.

I scrolled through my phone until I came across the picture I took of Tuesday while she was asleep in my bed. I laid the phone down as I stared at her picture. With one nice pump of lotion in my hand, I glanced down at it before I wrapped my palm around my dick.

“Man, shit,.

“I mumbled.

I took in a deep breath and focused back on her pretty ass face. I relaxed my feet as they slowly separated. I began slow stroking as my mind sucked up her image and played a repeat of something so simple that it put me in a zone, her smiling. The lotion on my dick began to feel just as good as me swimming inside of Tuesday. Her pussy wrapping around me, sucking the love out of me, made a smile ease on my face. I loved how she swiveled her body, and when she got to the tip, she would squeeze her pussy muscles, adding that extra oomph.

“Mm, shit!.

“I grunted.

My eyes closed as I saw the image of her continue to play. The straggly piece of hair that swooped across her face when she would swing her head, moaning so loudly.

“Yes, baby,” I moaned.

My hand began moving faster as my thumb slid up and down my protruding vein. My mouth opened and my head dropped back. The shit felt good as fuck. My knees began to buckle, and a light laugh came from me. The thought of Tuesday’s body rocking back and forth on a nigga emerged, and my palm met the head and circled that muhfucka. “Goddamn.”

I stroked faster as my nut began brewing. My head dropped forward, my knees buckled again, and my free hand pressed against the wall. When her smile, so vivid, appeared again; that was it. With two good strokes to my shaft and one on my head, a nigga’s nut came flying out.

“Woo shit!.

“I grunted loudly.

My chest heaved in and out as I released everything in me. My eyes opened back to her picture.

“Please, come home,.

“I mumbled as I turned to go back into the place where I left my insecurities.

I didn’t know how much longer a nigga could last, especially with all this sexual tension I had built up in me. I needed to get my girl back.

SASHA

His grip on my hair slightly pulled as his thighs met my ass every other second. The way Zeus filled my insides with every single inch of him made me whimper sweet melodies. My body shot forward and bucked wildly as I served him a pussy clinch that made his toes curl. Nights like this are when we get to our wildest moments. Zeus’s locs were up in a ponytail, giving him full visibility to me. He had been sipping on liquor all night and had faced a few blunts.

“Goddamn, I love this dick!.

“I shouted.

His hands shifted to my waist as he began slamming my body toward his. Zeus was moving like a wild gorilla in the jungle.

Smack!

His thick hand met the side of my ass, making it sizzle. It hurt, but for Zeus, I would take the pain. One hand to the back of my neck, the other still on my hip. He pulled me up, propped his foot on the bed, and bit into my back.

“You know how a nigga like it, Freckles. Keep fucking on it,.

“he grumbled.

Our body sweat began to mix as the sex had gone from mild to animal-like. It was pure toxicity at its finest. Earlier that day, we had yelled and screamed at each other; now we were in here fucking each other’s brains out. I turned and wrapped my legs around him, sliding back down on his dick. I wanted to look him in the eyes. The way Zeus’s eyes lowered on me was just as good as his mouth devouring my pussy.

“I love you, Sasha,.

“he panted.

“I love—”

My eyes shot open. The dreams about Zeus since being apart were like every night. It had been about a week at this point and since hanging up on him, he hadn’t tried to call me back. The only updates I had on Dio were through Zaria. When she told me what had actually happened to Dio, I felt so fucking bad. I knew that Zeus was probably losing his fucking mind. He wasn’t a level-headed man, and if I knew Zeus like I thought I did, people were dying in New York.

There was a knock at my door, and I was confused who it could be because nobody came to visit me, not even the guys. They knew how I felt about having my space invaded and they all respected it. I climbed out of bed, slipped my silk robe on, and snatched my gun from my dresser. I cocked it back as I made my way to the door. I peeked out the window and my stomach dropped. I closed my eyes tightly as I opened the door.

“I should blow your goddamn head off!.

“I gritted.

He threw his hands up, confused.

“Girl, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

I stared into his face, waiting for a fucking lie to seep through.

“Quinton, you raped me!.

“I shouted.

His eyes darted from side to side as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear. When he glanced at me, I was searching for fear, but I couldn’t spot it.

“I ain’t do shit to you,.

“he muttered as he leaned in.

“I helped you. Now, can I come in?”

He went to step into my house, and I aimed toward his foot. Pop! Causing him to jump back.

“Sash, are you fucking crazy?”

I was becoming emotional. The tears appeared out of nowhere, falling like raindrops down my face. I couldn’t keep my shit together. My hand began shaking. For every second I stared at Quinton, I became more upset, more sad, more confused. I trusted Quinton. I looked out for him. I had been the friend he needed, and my gut is telling me he’s the reason I can’t have kids.

Pop!

I shot at him again, this time barely missing him as he ran off. I rushed outside as he peeled down the street.

“I fucking hate you!.

“I screamed manically.

My past and not knowing the truth were eating me the fuck alive. Between the shit with Zeus, the sexual tension, and my trauma, I didn’t know how much more I could take.

February 1991

The beginning of facing the truth

Naheem Avery,

I sat on this letter for months, trying to decide if I should send it or not. So, let’s get right to it, shall we? Since we want to be truthful about how we feel in our letters. Your last one was pretty harsh. However, I have some hard truths to share with you. Let me show you how wide my nose is open. Ishmael, the one you call your best friend, who has a woman of his own, is playing hide and seek with your children's mother. This is nothing new, Naheem, or at least not to me, the woman you chose. The woman you love has been sleeping with your best friend, breaking up happy homes.

I know he’s been visiting her in prison. I know that ex-wife is about to bear his child, and somehow, he’s still finding his way to the woman you’ve declared love for. I know your father set you up with Angela. I know he is the reason you two ended up together because of some backdoor deal he made. His giving back to the community is good, but is it genuine or a cover-up, Naheem? Tell me.

So, since we’re the pot calling the kettle black, when was the last time Angela told you she loved you? When was the last time she cooked you a dinner that filled your belly? When was the last time Naheem, that she made you smile? It’s clear she is doing none of those things; otherwise, I wouldn’t be getting any of these letters. It is not I who has tension built up; it’s you.

This will be my last letter; however, you need to make sure you get your goddamn house in order.

From the best,

Best.