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𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞.
the next morning i wake up around six o'clock, hearing keziah stir in her bed. i go to her room as she sits up in bed, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "mommy?" i turn on her light and pick her up from bed. she wraps her arms around my neck and i carry her back to my room so we can both get ready for the day.
"good morning, beautiful. would you like to get ready with me?" keziah pops her head up with a cheer, clapping her hands, making me laugh. "come on let's go get clean." i start walking to the bathroom, singing our 'get ready' song, when there's a firm knock at the door. i put keziah down, opening the door, finding taraji and the security guard from last night, holding four bags in each hand.
"i thought you and your daughter might like a fresh set of clothes." the burly man walks in, putting the expensive name-brand bags on the bed, leaving just as fast. too shocked to react, i stare between taraji and the clothes on the bed. she smirks stepping into the room and bending down so she's eye level with keziah. taraji softens her face as keziah shyly hugs my leg, looking at taraji unsure. she's not around many other people since i can't afford daycare, she's only with family or kendall and his friends, in which she usually just stays with corey.
"hello, my name is taraji. i hope you don't mind but i got a couple of new outfits for you and you can pick whatever you want to wear." keziah peaks at me and i nod encouraging her to speak and that's all her outgoing self needs.
"hi, i'm keziah, but you call me ziah. you pretty." taraji smiles and holds out her hand. those hands look delicate but it's hard to imagine anything about taraji being dainty or delicate.
"what do you say about the gifts ziah?"
"tank you, you help me pick." keziah clutches taraji's hand urging her to stand and follow her to check out her new clothes. "say please, don't be rude," i say shaking my head at the bossy three-year-old.
"she's alright, she's a girl who knows what she wants. that's a good thing." keziah nods, agreeing to taraji's encouragement of her behavior. keziah doesn't even understand what we're talking about, she just likes to do what she wants. which is why she doesn't wait for either of us to jump on the bed and start going through the bags.
"don't encourage her." i lightly scold before i remember who i'm talking too. my face heats and i start stuttering an apology. taraji stalks closer like a lioness ready to pounce on her prey. i'm frozen, unable to move. she looks so fucking good right now. i'm so glad keziah's distracted.
taraji traces her fingertip across my jaw, and cheek, to the outline of my lips. i suck in a breath as my lips part in anticipation. i don't know what the fuck she's going to do, but i want to feel it already. feel what she can do, how intense she can get, experience the consumption of the desire she erupts from somewhere deep within me.
