Page 13 of In Too Deep

I placed the plastic fork on the edge of the plate and reached for the drink.

I whispered a thank you before I opened it, and then I took a large swallow.

I recoiled from the tartness, screwing the lid back on.

I was becoming stuffed but too doggish to stop.

The drink sat at my feet on top of the paper towel she gave me.

Joining me back on the couch, she took her spot back on the other side.

Each time she plopped down, sashayed away from me, and the time I embraced her, I got a whiff of something sweet.

The heavy aroma from the food slapped me across the face, but the smell of caramel permeated her body, leaving a lasting impression in my nostrils.

Had me wanting to drop a bag on whatever the fuck she was wearing; buy her a ton of it, so she’d never run out.

“You didn’t answer my question though,” I glanced over at her, with a mouthful of mac and cheese. It wasn’t that Velveeta shit either; her ass baked this in the oven. Dipping my fork in it, melted cheese rose from the pile.

“What was the question?”

“I asked you earlier if you stripped. I ain’t know you did.”

“Because I don’t. My stripping pole is for fun nights, you know—when the girls come over,” she shrugged.

“Are you any good at it?”

“I don’t know. Since I do it for fun, I never put too much thought into wanting to be good at it. I never cared enough.”

“I bet you sexy as fuck on it though.”

“You’ll never find out,” she blushed. Her shortbread skin complexion turned into a light shade of pink, and her cheeks rose.

“I’ll pay you.”

“Rome—”

“Call me Romelo,” I interjected. “Romelo is my birth name.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“A lot of people don’t, not even your cousin. When we’re alone, call me Romelo, it’s more personal. You earned it.”

“Oh, I earned it,” she smiled.

“Hell yeah, cooking for a nigga and being sweet.”

“Did you forget how we got here though,” she guffawed.

Moving the tray away from me. I carefully picked up and placed it further from me, but not too far. Just far enough so I wouldn’t nick it.

“I hadn’t forgotten,” I told her. “C’mere,” I motioned with my hand. “You all the way over there like I’m contagious and shit.”

Obeying, she inched closer to me, but I grabbed her waist and inched her even closer, then picked her up and positioned her on my lap. Her feet were positioned on both sides of me as my hands caressed her soft ass as I glided my large hands up and down the fabric, giving it gentle squeezes.

“Rome—” she scoffed.

I slapped her on the ass and bit down on my lip. “Romelo, to you.”

“Romelo,” she sighed as she reached back and clasped her hands on top of mine. “This isn’t right.”

“Tell me why it ain’t wrong though.”

She gripped my hands a little harder than before to get me to stop, but I selfishly insisted, barely trying to listen to her dilemma.

Removing my hands from her ass, giving in only just a tad bit.

My hands snaked under her crop top and gripped her small breasts, flicking her nipples over and over with my thumb.

Growing impatient, I needed to see her naked form, so I lifted her top and exposed them.

Her cinnamon colored nipples looked like pebbles.

I leaned forward after sitting back on the couch, while carrying her with me.

She remained straddled on top of me with my big ass dick poking her pussy, formally greeting her.

I leaned forward, taking her nipples into my mouth, groaning at her sweet scent.

Her moans were like music, a sweet symphony, better than a bird’s chirp.

I felt her small fingers toy with my ears as she threw her head back, enjoying the sensation that she was trying so hard to shy away from.

I had her like putty in the palm of my hands, and she gave in to me.

“If it ain’t right, then why is you moaning and shit?” I grunted. “Why you enjoyin’ this shit, Juicy?”

“Oooh, w-we shouldn’t be doing this, Romelo. My cousin,” she stammered. “You’re dating my?—”

“I don’t give a fuck ‘bout her,” I muttered as I pulled back, resting my head on the couch. I removed my hands from her pretty ass titties and gripped her ass again. “If only you knew the shit I been goin’ through dealing with her.”

“And I’m the rebound?” Her tone was offensive, and her brows hiked.

“Naw. Hell naw. You just a peace of mind. I can’t find this shit nowhere else. You done claimed wifey status fa sho’.”

“If there’s so much trouble in paradise, why not fix it? Why continue to keep running from the problem?”

“Because.” I shrugged. “I don’t care enough anymore to fix that shit and I ain’t runnin’ from nothing. I ain’t no fuckin’ tape recorder either. I want to fuck with you, take care of you, hold you at night, and shit, Synthia.”

“From the outside looking in, people would think that y’all were the perfect couple.”

“That’s what she wants people to think. I been unhappy for a long time now.”

Our eyes played ping pong for a minute. I could tell she was pondering for a second, dwelling on her thoughts as they swirled around her head.

“Then why continue to settle?”

Thinking hard on her question, I tilted my chin up and scratched my beard.

“I believe in loyalty. Trecee ain’t have shit when we met.

She used to tell me her dreams all the time and how every girl in the ghetto meets their prince charming and shit.

I wasn’t the frog that she kissed. I tricked off, investing in her, not viewing her as a bill because I fucked with her until she became invested in the wrong shit.

The money I gave her for a hair studio, she blew off on a Birkin.

The rooms I placed her in, so she could learn what it feels to have a boss mentality, she never mentioned after that.

That’s a slap in the face to me.” I vented.

“Why’d you choose her first?”

“Because you didn’t choose me , Synthia. It was always supposed to be you…always, baby.” My tone was laced with honesty and held a vibrato in her quiet home. “Fuck I look like treating you like a rebound when you’ve always been the first place prize?”

Her bottom lip poked out. “None of that makes sense Romelo. According to Trecee, I’m not even your type.”

“ She wasn’t my type.” I stated straightforward.

Attempting to get off me, she pushed my chest and tried to move one of her feet, but I held onto her tightly to keep her in place.

“Naw, baby, just let me explain.”

“That’s what I’m trying to get you to do, but this bullshit. It’s all bullshit, Rome,” she fussed.

“You know the saying, ‘if she look, she took ’?”

She sucked her teeth and waved me off. “Please be so for real.”

“I wish I wasn’t,” I shrugged. “That’s how shit was.

I remember that day like it was yesterday.

I was young, Juicy. I’m a grown ass man now and I’d never do no shit like that.

Y’all were walking up and you pretty ass hell, walking like you knew you were the baddest bitch on the planet.

Trecee was flocking over me, so I chose her.

You bruised my ego, mane, treated me like I didn’t exist and shit.

I wanted yo fine, pretty ass. I’ve always wanted you . Trecee was just a placeholder.”

“So why have you remained loyal to her?”

“Some shit ended up happening to me a few years ago. I had beef with this nigga on Tate St. It was over some dumb shit, beyond my control. I fucked his bitch,” I shrugged.

“His wife—” I clarified. “Trecee was in the hood on some thot shit, this was after we kicked it, when y’all went to Yum’s.

We was rocking, but we weren’t consistent.

The nigga I had beef with, she was close to at the time.

He was trying to set me up. She gave me the whole rundown.

Nigga wasn’t bold enough to face me like a man.

He planted a bomb under my car. I ain’t supposed to be here right now, if it wasn’t for her.

She could’ve went through with that shit wit’ ‘ole boy and had me murked, but she saved me. In a way, I felt as though she proved her loyalty to me. I guess part of that is the reason why I haven’t cut her ass off yet,” I explained.

She removed her hands from around my neck and began to fidget with her fingers.

“I don’t know how to feel about this, Romelo.”

“Just tell me you want me too and let me figure out the rest,” I pleaded. “You ain’t got to worry about her, Synthia?”

“No,” shot off. “Nigga if I wanted you then, I could’ve had you.”

“Damn,” I placed my hands to my chest and pretended to be fake hurt. “That’s cold blooded.”

“You can’t possibly think that my cousin and I are birds of a feather.”

“That ain’t what I think, but nine times out of ten, I always get my way with women, even if I got to do a little tricking off just to get you. You’re mine, Synthia, and I don’t want no other nigga to have you.”

“Romelo,” she scoffed and hit me in the chest. “You aren’t listening to me.”

“I hear you, what I’m sayin’ is that I want you. I don’t mind doing whatever I have to do to make you my girl.”

“All while dating my cousin?”

“I ain’t never been known to back down from a challenge,” I boasted. “You don’t have to know that you want me yet, but you’re mine and we’re together.”

“It sounds like you enjoy having your cake and eating it to.”

“See, that’s the thing. I don’t want to be with Trecee. Her time has run out. I want to be your man and be involved in whatever you come up with. Baby, I ain’t trying to stress you out. All I want to do is fuck you, feed you, and take care of you. Don’t none of that involve stressing you out.”

“And when you’re sick of me, then what? The thought of my cousin thinking she’s secured her spot and I’m straddling you, when your hands on my booty,” she digressed.

“A bitch has to be a fucked up ass person if a nigga wants to leave her. Y’all ain’t cut from the same cloth, that’s all I know. I like a woman on her shit, ready to get that paper by any means necessary.”