Lighter Shade of Brown (Urban Fiction) BWHM

Chapter 43

AN: Sorry for being two days past my promised deadline y'all. This one here twerked each and everyone of my nerves to the point of I couldn't do anything more than throw up my hands.🤷🏾‍♀️ So whether you flame it or acclaim it, here you go! Enjoy...hopefully!🤦🏾‍♀️

Everything Cleo wished on over the last eighteen months came to pass. At what price, though? Big Spend came for her sanity and Tech, triple dealing ass, slayed the rest of her trust. Now there she sat in the passenger seat of the Chevy number than a bitch faded on Lidocaine. Residing in the presence of the only home she'd ever really wanted...C's. Such an unwanted truth triggered her mouth to tick worse than a junkie who'd been denied straight drop.

For real, for real! Even an alcoholic surrounded by Old English forties held more control over their thirst than she did. Her dry mouth refused to be denied! Not when her dehydration quencher parlayed only inches away.

Her common sense came for her on a mental check. Don't be a weak bitch! Those words slithered through her mind and ran time back to their fall out. The memories of all the things which flew from his mouth that day still spun wild and reckless on repeat.Taking shots at her self-esteem when she least expected. Yet being the ever contradiction, he'd still showed for her when she needed him most. His present actions blew holes in her recollections of past verbal assaults. Now her resolve and defenses she'd erected against him were in tatters.

C's grip on her hand tightened. Always the one to hold her down, he yanked her from the thoughts which clouded her head. Warming her to the core with just a touch of his hand. Sensual heat infused her with emotions she'd long since reconciled to leave behind. If Tech gave her life support, then C's gave her life. And yes, she wanted to live!

Yet could she choose C's and still love herself? Or was the price of admission for loving him a prison cell that carried a triple digit sentence? Damn, would she ever be free? Lord knows she'd rather be liberated than turn into Liberty.

Cleo allowed her gaze to slip over C's profile. Time had sharpened his cheek bones and given his squared jaws a firmer clench. His whole façade seemed harder, or maybe colder now.

Had he caught hell during their separation? Would she be wrong to hope he'd had? Even if he didn't, she'd bet dollars to no money, that she caught enough hell for them both. Over the last fifty-eleven months, she'd come to realize that Caesar Gianni held sole dominion over the ice-cold chunk lounging in her chest. In the beginning, the misery of his absence nearly swallowed her whole. Yet, regardless of everything he'd put her through, there she sat wishing he'd want her one more time...love her the way he once had...just one more time!

He shifted his focus to gaze at her from the cut of his eye. "I still do, you know?" the raspy edge of his voice rubbed away the harsh roughness of their combined silence. "Real deal Holyfield, I never stopped."

She snatched her gaze from his to glance out the window, looking at him in the face yielded the same effects as attempting to stare directly into the sun. The overwhelmingness of his visual perfection singed her down to the bottom of her soul.

She peeled her thick dry tongue from the roof of her mouth to question him, "Never stopped what?"

"I never stopped loving the shit out of you," his hand drifted to her thigh and squeezed until her gaze met the chocolate browns that always had the ability to cold cock her common senses.

With justified cause, Cleo's eyes rolled. Where the hell had she heard that shit before? "Don't, C's...not now. My chest can't take anymore. I'm done with the empty, I love you's. Especially, when dudes like you and Tech don't even know what the words mean to begin with!"