Coming from a life of drugs, money, and women, Michael "Meechie" Jackson had the world in the palm of his hands. He had power and his business, which he built from the ground up, morphed him into one of the most well-known drug lords in the city.
I...
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Left stroke. Right stroke.
Hips rolling in a rhythmic pattern.
Strokes turned into penetration.
Large palms rested on her waistline as she worked her lower body like it's never been worked before. Her head tilted backwards like she was under the spell of an incubus, and her lips parted but not a single sound was made. He was fucking her so good while raw to the point she felt herself beginning to cum at any second. That dick was too amazing—long, thick and hitting every nook and cranny of her vaginal walls that coated him like icing on a cake. When she brought her head back down to connect her eyes with his and show him just how good he made her feel, she found herself sitting next to him instead.
It was all in her head.
Just a figment of her imagination.
None of it was real.
But what was real was her body leaning forward and her lips on his for only a split second. The firm grip on her upper arms had him pushing her away roughly. A scowl made it's way onto his visage, and immediately the embarrassment that came over her like a dark cloud weighed heavy like a ton of bricks. He stood from the daybed, his piercing eyes never tearing away from her.
"What the fuck wrong with you, Carrea?" When she said nothing, it pissed him off further. "So you can't talk now? You had a lot to say just seconds ago."
Still, nothing was said. She was too embarrassed to speak. What the hell could she say after pouring her heart out and kissing him as if he would reciprocate both actions? All she could really muster up is the most simplest apology known to mankind. "I'm sorry."
An unamused chuckle slipped through his lips. "'I'm sorry'?"
"I'm not tryna ruin anything. I just got caught up in the moment, and for that, I am sorry."
"You know what's so damn funny to me?" He looked directly into her eyes only to have her look away. She couldn't fathom the intensity of them staring into the depths of her soul. "The last time we saw each other you pulled this shit by showing a video of us. And tonight you pull the same shit again. You gave the impression as if you moved on. Our history was dead. But three nights before my weddin' day you wanna hit me with all this bullshit which I find quite interesting as hell.
So, if you wasn't tryna ruin shit, why the fuck you waited 'til now of all days to confess somethin' I don't give a fuck 'bout no more? And don't get me wrong," he said, resting a hand above his chest for emphasis, "I should've seen this comin'. I figured since I had no bad blood with you we could chop it up for a li'l while. Ain't nothin' wrong with that. But when you doin' all this extra shit like what you just did, it's a fuckin' problem. You've been married to yo' husband for however long and with kids. You got a fuckin' family now, Rea. You got everything that I couldn't give you 'cause of my fuck ups in the past yet, you still want me. Why is that?"
