Page 22

. . .

“You got socks on?” Aku leaned against the doorframe, dead serious.

Malik blinked. “Huh?”

“Do…You…Have…Socks…On?” she repeated, slower this time, eyes dropping to his sneakers. “I don’t let people wear shoes in my house, and I need to know if your socks got holes in ‘em. That’s how I judge character.”

He squinted at her. “Wait, what?”

Aku crossed her arms, chin tilted, about to drop some knowledge. “Mama’s say check a nigga’s feet. Daddies say look at his watch. Aku says…check the socks. Are they dirty? Are they mismatched? Do they scream childhood trauma and bad decisions?”

Malik laughed, but tried to hide it. “You deadass?”

“I am so serious. Socks tell you everything. Like, are you a grown man with your life together or do you still gotta dig through a laundry basket for a match?”

Malik damn near folded over, holding his chest. “Ayo! Cuh, you wild.”

Aku tried to hold her expression, but her lips cracked into a grin. “Let me find out you got a hole in your heel. That’s worse than a felony.”

He shook his head, chuckling as he started unlacing his sneakers. “Damn, you runnin’ background checks at the door?”

She didn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

“And you barely passed,” she teased, peeking over as he stepped out of his shoes. “They clean. But if I see one toe tryna escape, you gettin’ socks for Christmas…and therapy.”

Their laughter echoed, wrapping around them like comfort. For a second, Crescent’s chaos didn’t exist. It was just them. Her wit, his laugh, and the soft thump of his socks on her hardwood floor as he followed her inside.

Malik took in her space. The cream-colored couch looked comfortable as hell and it smelled like her - sweet and spicy. Nothing was out of place besides a few pairs of heels by the door. The floor to ceiling window in the living room gave the condo the perfect view of Madison Heights.

“This is nice,” he said, after he’d toed his shoes off.

“Thanks. You want something to drink or eat?”

“Nah, I’m cool.”

“What you high on?” Aku tossed out the question that had been lingering in her mind all day when she noticed his red eyes back at the block party.

Like before, Malik ignored her. Instead, he sat on her couch, arms stretched across the back of it. Exhaustion weighed in his eyes. He allowed his head to fall back and his eyes to close.

Aku eased over to the couch, straddling his lap. Her fingers found his scalp, rubbing circles to ease the tension she couldn’t physically see, but knew was there. “Talk to me?”

“Nothing really to say.” His hands were on her hips now, keeping her there in case she decided to get up.

She scoffed. “How is this friendship gonna work when you don’t wanna talk to me?”

“Who said I want to be your friend?”

“Oh, please…you so full of shit. I felt your eyes on me all night. Every time one of your friends got too close, you was signaling them to back up." Aku kept the conversation lite when she really wanted to dive, so deep into his world she’d emerge with a blue bandana wrapped around her bob.

“That don’t mean I wanna be your friend, though.” A ghost of a smile lingered on his face.

Aku guided his hands to her breasts, squeezing them. “Then what you want to be?”

Malik could feel his dick pressing against his jeans. “Shit, I don’t know.”

“But you do,” she wined her pussy against him. “That’s that fear I was telling you about.”

“How many times I gotta tell you, I ain’t scared of shit…on the gang.”

“Maybe not death,” she swallowed, thinking about Malik being back in Crescent when those shots rang out. “Nah, you ain’t scared of dying…why?”

He squeezed her breast again, feeling her nipples pebbling against her shirt. “I think it’s time for me to go.”

“What the fuck you so scared of? It ain’t going back to that fuckin’ war zone! Nah, that shit feels normal to you. So tell me what the wizard is scared of?”

He gulped, his heart beat slowing just a little, like it was telling him he was safe with her.

Even if she didn’t know hood politics or that you never walk another nigga into another nigga’s house knowing they played for different teams. Aku’s actions weren’t malicious.

She was just curious about shit she shouldn’t be curious about.

He swiped his tongue out, slow enough for Aku to catch it.

“Tell me what got you so scared, Malik.” She spoke into his mouth.

“You…” he confessed. “You got me thinking about shit, I ain’t got no business thinking about. Got me wanting shit, I ain’t never wanted.”

“Like what?”

“To live – there I said it…you make me wanna live.”

Aku swallowed his words, tasted the bitterness on her tongue. “What you get high on?”

“Oh, you think you on a roll, now - huh?” Malik smirked, his finger now on her hips, digging into them looking for solace.

“Give me some,” she dared.

“Hell nah…this shit ain’t for you.”

“Then it ain’t for you either, nigga.” She smacked his face. “Today is the first day of your life…stop that shit or I’ll stop it for you.”

It wasn’t a question or a suggestion. Aku was demanding he stopped popping whatever it was he liked to get high on—even if she wasn’t certain about the drug. Aku never understood the power of her words or how her sweet and sassy tone would have a man doing things he couldn’t do on his own.

Malik had tried to quit before. Swore it off a few times, even flushed a bottle once. But his will to do it never fully clicked until that moment.

The thing is, love wasn’t just candles and kisses.

Sometimes it was a woman looking you in the face and holding you accountable to better yourself.

Sometimes it’s her seeing the poison before you admit it’s killing you, then standing between you and it like she’d been sent personally to reroute your wayward life.

She smoothed her hand over the spot she’d just hit. “You gonna live, Malik, and it’s gonna be so beautiful. You’ll appreciate the sun, love the moon, and create something that’ll outlive you, black man.”

Her words had him wanting to break. Grief thickened his throat. Aku’s soft hands eased it when she pushed her palm against the tattoos on his neck.

“Why me?” Malik asked. The question had been sitting on his chest for a while now because he felt the pull of her—even when he tried to pretend it wasn’t there.

Aku shrugged. “Probably because you remind me of my first love…my daddy. Imperfectly, perfect.”

“But I ain’t.”

“Says who?”

That made him smile. “I got secrets so dark they keep me up at night.”

“I’m a good secret keeper.”

“Nah.” he finally gave her his eyes. “These muthafuckas’ll haunt you, Dorothy.”

She tapped her chin, thinking. “Didn’t I already defeat the Wicked Witch of the West?”

Malik pulled her into him more, making their lips crash into each other. He was tired of talking. Aku moaned against him, her body warming as the thin fabric of her shorts allowed her to feel him beneath her.

“If you ain’t gonna fuck me, then stop, ’cause I’m horny, Malik,” she whined, still rocking her pussy against him.

His face nestled between the crook of her neck, sucking to leave a mark. “A nigga stressed out and all you care ‘bout is gettin’ some dick?”

Aku nodded. “Mm hmm…”

He laughed. “Tell me something…what cuh need to know before I cross this line with yo’ lil bossy ass?”

Aku groaned. “Malik, you talking to much…just?—”

He sucked on her neck harder, shutting her up. Malik’s hands roamed up her back, making her spine curl before his long fingers tangled into her hair, gripping her scalp. “Your mouth gon’ keep you in hella trouble… you know that, Dorothy?”

Aku hissed from the pressure of his gentle but aggressive tugs. “Malik,” she hummed.

“You like that rough shit?”

“I like that you shit,” she sassed back, gaining her another tug. “Ugh…”

“My dick hard as fuck. What you gon’ do ’bout that?”

“What you want me to do?” Aku looked into his eyes.

There were so many unspoken words being passed between them that she was already unraveling. And the way he chewed on his lip, had Aku in a trance.

“Suck this muthafucka since your mouth always moving,” Malik kissed her again.

She smiled sexily, easing off his lap and lowering to her knees. Kneeling between his legs, Aku undid his jeans, her mouth watering with thoughts of tasting him. Thoughts of this moment kept her hands between her legs most nights.

Malik lifted a little to allow her to shimmy his jeans down. She let out a giggle when his long, caramel dick popped out at attention.

“I’m Aku…what’s your name?” she asked, wrapping her warm hands around his shaft. It felt good against the cool air of the AC. “That’s okay, you don’t gotta say nothing. Just lemme take you somewhere.”

“Damn,” he grunted when her flat tongue swiped up the side of his dick. His hands dug into the couch when he felt her warm mouth wrap around it.

Aku sucked him slow and sweet, savoring every bit of him.

His phone vibrated on the cushion next to him. Aku caught a glimpse at the name. Quesha flashed until the call stopped.

Malik didn’t seem too worried about it, so she kept sucking, making sure to ease her mouth all the way down to the base of his dick. She held her breath, allowing her mouth to juice up, ready to get sloppy. All that cute shit was just the starter.

She tucked her hair behind her ears. Aku gave him one last look, her eyelashes fluttering up at him, before she inhaled his dick.

The gushiness of her mouth had his toes curling in his shoes and his hands looking for anything to keep him grounded. Never one to be outdone, Malik thrusted his hips up, making her gag a little, but she didn’t stop.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Yea, eat that dick like that.”

She grinned, her teeth scraping him slightly, before she started to bob harder and faster. Spit dripped down his dick, giving her more leverage to keep gliding her mouth up and down. The seat of her panties was soaked.

Her pussy leaked more when his moans filled the room.

Malik’s body started to lift. “Gahdamn, Dorothy!” He tapped her head, needing some reprieve.