Set: A Novella (Them Boys Book 1)

by Alexandria House

  “You’re not qualified, Tori,” I replied.

  “I’m your daughter!”

  “Yes, you are, but that’s not a qualification. Yolanda has more experience than you. You can’t handle all that responsibility.”

  “Wow…wooooooow. Okay, fine. Whatever, Mom.”

  “Bye, sweetie.”

  “Bye!”

  I guessed she was pissed.

  Whatever.

  I leaned forward and laid my phone on the coffee table, turned to look at Set, and was instantly crowded by his scent, his body heat, and then his mouth met mine. He kissed me deeply, pulling me onto his lap and gripping my barely-there ass. You’d think I had an hourglass figure the way Set acted.

  We were both half naked, so it didn’t take much effort for my breast to end up in his mouth or my hand to end up around his dick. Soon, we were both moaning and whimpering our way to climax, and he wasn’t even inside me.

  “Shit, Kareema. I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured.

  I threw my head back as he found my clit and stroked it. “Set…”

  “I could taste you every damn day, be inside you every damn hour.”

  “Oh!” I whined, an orgasm assaulting me as I squirted all over his lap. A few seconds later, he’d exploded in my hand with a roar against my breast.

  After catching my breath, I peered down between us. “We made a mess.”

  After he kissed me, he hummed, “Mm-hmm.”

  *****

  “You gonna feed me?” I asked from my spot lying on top of him on his sofa.

  “Yeah, you wanna go out?”

  “We can, but you’ll have to let me get up.”

  “Then we’ll order in.”

  I laughed. “Weird ass.”

  “Did I tell you your girl, Trish, sent me a friend request?”

  Lifting my head from his chest, I said, “No, you didn’t. Did you accept it?”

  “Am I supposed to?”

  “If you want to.”

  My phone buzzed on the coffee table, and I squinted to see the screen.

  Tori.

  Shit.

  I should’ve ignored it but slid off Set’s body, making him groan in protest, and grabbed my phone.

  He sat up on the sofa giving me room to sit beside him as I answered my daughter’s call with, “Hello?”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” was screamed into my ear.

  It wasn’t Tori; it was her stupid-ass father.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Set asked rather loudly. I supposed he could hear Shawn through the phone.

  “Who the fuck asking who I am?!” Shawn shrieked.

  I wasn’t sure who to answer but opted for my ex. “Shawn? What are you doing with Tori’s phone?”

  “She came over here crying about you firing her! Why you do that?”

  Set stood and left the living room without a word.

  “Shawn, I didn’t fire her, and even if I did, that would be between me and her.”

  “She’s my got-damn daughter, too!”

  “Oh, you want to be a father now that she’s damn grown? Nigga, please.” I hung up on his ass and went on a search for Set, finding him in his bedroom staring out the window.

  Before I could speak, he said, “So you got that motherfucker in your phone under your daughter’s name, Kareema? All this time, I thought you were talking to your daughter and you been talking to another nigga while you were in the bed with me? I know you ain’t really mine, but shit! I don’t deserve no respect?”

  My mouth dropped open, because…the fuck? “What?!” I responded.

  “You heard me!” he thundered.

  Placing my hands on my hips, I asked, “Set, have you heard his voice on my phone before? Ever?”

  Nothing from him.

  “You seriously think I’ve been pretending to talk to Tori but have actually been talking to his sorry ass all this time? I don’t believe this shit.”

  He finally turned to look at me, the anger in his eyes reminding me of his younger self. “What you want to eat?” he barked.

  “Huh?”

  “You said you was hungry. What you wanna eat?”

  “So we’re done talking about Shawn?”

  “Yeah.”

  I sighed my frustration. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll eat whatever. You know I’m not picky.”

  “A’ight.”

  About an hour later, as we silently ate pizza, he said, “I’m sorry about earlier. It was fucked up for me to accuse you of that shit. You a good girl, always have been.”

  I raised my eyes to meet his. “It’s all good, Set.”

  He chuckled and continued eating.

  8

  Kareema

  “Wow, this place is nice…and huge,” I said, as he led me through the pristine glass entry doors of Mitchell Fitness.

  Inside, it looked like any other gym—workout equipment, mirrors, people exercising, but this was Set’s gym. The man I loved owned his own gym and had clients that he trained. That was why we were there. He had a couple of clients to see and didn’t want to leave me at his place alone, and truth be told, I didn’t want to be away from him anyway. Shit, if I could’ve glued myself to his fine ass, I would’ve.

  “Let me give you a tour,” he offered, taking my hand in his.

  “Okay, but I don’t have to work out, do I? I’m allergic to exercise.”

  He chuckled. “Come on, now…you expect me to believe you got this fine with no exercise?”

  I shook my head. “Whatever, Set.”

  If I thought I was proud of him because of my initial view of his gym, I was damn near in tears when he showed me the room that held the boxing ring. There were boxing bags in the corners of the room, and the walls were covered with paintings of Set, replicas of the boxing photos I’d seen of him on social media and in his home. My breath got caught somewhere between my lungs and my mouth as I slowly did a three-sixty, taking it all in.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked, with a look on his face that told me he really wanted to know.

  I dropped my eyes, because I was literally on the verge of tears, and softly said, “Set, it’s…” Words actually escaped me. I didn’t know how to verbalize the pride that was bubbling inside of me, so I reached up to grasp the face of this man who was a foot taller than me, and kissed him, hoping what I was feeling would somehow be transferred to him.

  When the kiss ended, he smiled. “So…you like it?”

  Through a giggle, I replied, “I do. I love it, Set. I’m…I’m so proud of you.”

  Cradling my face in his hands, he returned, “That means a lot coming from you, Kareema. A whole lot.”

  All I could do was fall into him and hug him tightly, and he hugged me right back. We parted when two men filed into the room and spoke to Set who quickly herded me out into the hallway.

  “You’re not going to introduce me to your friends?”

  “They’re actually my employees, and hell no. Them niggas always tryna fuck somebody.”

  It’s a damn shame how giddy those words made me feel.

  I explored the gym alone while Set worked with his first client of the day, an older lady who was in way better shape than me. If I hadn’t been wearing a sundress and sandals, her level of fitness might have influenced me to hop on a treadmill.

  That session was followed by his second and last client of the day, a much younger woman, a very friendly, very flirtatious younger woman with slim hips and huge breasts. She was basically a younger version of me, and the way she kept giggling and touching his huge right bicep made me perch myself on a weight bench a few feet from them and watch with narrowed eyes as Set’s ass laughed right along with her. They sure in the hell looked like more than trainer and client to me. They looked like they were fucking, and even though I had no right to be, I was steaming by the time that big-tittied heifer left and Set strolled his ass over to me. He smiled down at me until he noticed the uncontrollable scowl I was wearing.

/>   “The fuck is wrong with you now?” he asked.

  With a shrug, I retorted, “Nothing. You’re single and free to do what you want.”

  “The fuck does that mean?”

  “It means…nothing, Set. Absolutely nothing.”

  He kept his eyes affixed to me for a few moments, and then that smile returned to his face. “You jealous of Lizzie?”

  I rolled my eyes. “That can’t be her real name. Who the hell names their black child Lizzie?”

  He laughed. “Stand up. I wanna show you something.”

  “What? Lizzie’s sweat or something?”

  More laughing from his ass, and then, “No, not that.”

  “Another tour? I’ve seen everything, Set.”

  He backed up a little. “You ain’t seen this. Stand up, Kareema.”

  With a pout, I stood from the bench and watched as he dropped to the floor, the muscles of his back rippling as he fell into a push-up.

  Before I could ask him why he was doing a damn push-up, he said, “Lay on my back.”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me. Lie down on my back, Kareema.”

  “Now? Here?”

  “Yeah. When and where else?”

  Through a sigh, I lay on his back and wrapped my arms around him when he told me to hold on. Then he did another push-up with me on his back, and a giggle escaped my mouth. He kept moving up and down, reminding me of him being between my legs, which made my pussy liquify as I held on and grinned like a fool. Some of the gym’s patrons moved closer, surrounding us, and when he was done and we were both on our feet, they applauded, a sound that surrounded us as Set leaned in and kissed me.

  “You still mad?” he asked.

  “I wasn’t mad anyway,” I lied.

  He grabbed my hand. “Uh-huh.”

  Set

  Eighteen months earlier…

  “You never told me how you met husband number two,” I said, as she lay next to me looking as exhausted as I felt. We’d been at it all day, filling this hotel room in San Antonio with moans and whimpers and shit.

  Her eyes were closed as she answered me through a yawn. “You never asked, but I met him when he came to pick his granddaughter up from my day care one afternoon when I wasn’t hiding out in my office.”

  “Granddaughter? You married an old muhfucker?”

  She opened her eyes and gave me a smirk. “Really?”

  “I’m just saying…”

  “I was thirty when we got married. He was fifty-six.”

  “Word?”

  “Yep. We were married for three years before he passed away, best three years of my life. I’ll never find another him.”

  “What was his name? I know you told me before, but I forgot.”

  “Vincent. Vincent Wise.”

  “Why you ain’t keep his name?”

  “Hurt too bad at first. So I took my maiden name back.”

  “You really loved him, huh?”

  “I…I appreciated him for caring about me and treating me so good, and yes, I loved him. Vincent and I didn’t share a lot of passion, but we were good together.”

  “Y’all didn’t fuck?”

  “I didn’t say that. Of course, we did.”

  “But not like you and me fuck?”

  “No…nothing has ever been quite like you and me.”

  “Yeah, I feel you on that. Uh, Kareema?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You still don’t wanna get married again?”

  “Sure don’t. How about you? Still no plans of ever getting married?”

  “Nope, no plans at all.”

  9

  Kareema

  Now…

  After the gym, we had lunch at a Chinese restaurant and were now in Set’s bed, still clothed but with our mouths fused. His big hand was on the side of my face as we kissed and kissed and kissed. I’d forgotten how nice it felt just to kiss, no other stimulation, but at the same time, all of the stimulation. We were silent, no moans or whimpers or groans, no sense of urgency, just this moment and this feeling that we shared, this…adoration.

  This love.

  Well, if this wasn’t love then maybe I had no idea what love was. I knew I loved him, and he at least acted like he loved me.

  You should tell him. Tell him you love him.

  Hell naw! I’m not putting myself out there like that only to find out this man has another woman, a secret wife, anything that could and would break my damn heart. Shit no!

  I had no idea where any of those thoughts came from, but they made me lose my tongue rhythm, and Set noticed it.

  After ending the kiss, he opened those pretty eyes of his and fixed them on me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I lied.

  He grinned. “You lying your ass off. What you wanna do tonight?”

  “This. I wanna lie here and kiss you all night long.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “For real?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “You don’t want me to hit it from the back after I eat it from the back? You don’t want me to put your legs behind your head and make you squirt all over the damn place? You don’t wanna ride this muhfuckin’ pogo stick until you start screaming and shit while I got your titty in my mouth?”

  I laughed. “First of all, pogo stick? Why are you so damn silly?”

  He shrugged while wearing a boyish grin.

  “Second,” I continued, “I told you I ain’t riding you no more. It’s insulting the way you don’t even raise your head to suck my titties. Makes me feel like they’re long. I’m getting a breast reduction.”

  “I’ll be damned if you do! You ain’t touching those fucking masterpieces. I’ll lose my shit if you do that. I need those titties.”

  “Whatever. I still ain’t riding you ever again.”

  So about ten minutes later, I found myself sliding up and down Set’s dick like a damn fool, howling as he thrusted upward, hitting my cervix and making me rain juices all over him. At one point, as I reached behind me and gripped his thighs, my hand kept slipping, so I had to plant my feet on the bed and grip the sides of his hard stomach, soon finding myself on my knees again as Set frowned up at me and grabbed the back of my head, snatching it down to his face so he could capture my mouth.

  After he let my head go, his savage ass flipped me over onto my back and was between my legs and inside me in damn near one move. Resting on his elbows, he rolled into me while staring into my eyes. “I love this pussy, Kareema. You can’t give this pussy to no one else, you hear me? No…one…else. This...my...pussy!” He accented each word with a thrust that made my coochie quiver.

  “Set…oh, shit! Set!”

  We went on like that, screaming as the sound of him plowing into my pussy and the scent of our bodies mating filled his bedroom. When a deep “V” formed in his brow and he started groaning, “KareemaKareemaKareemaKareemaKareema!” I knew he was about to meet his happy ending. He always sounded so tortured, like it hurt and pleased him to come. It made me feel powerful as hell for this man to unravel like that while inside of me, for him to unravel like that because he was inside of me.

  Yeah, moments like this made me believe Captain Marvel didn’t have shit on the strength of my pussy.

  After he emptied inside of me, he rolled off my body onto his stomach and grunted, “Get on my back, baby.”

  So I did.

  Set

  “Set, you’re still up?” she asked, her voice heavy with sleep. My bedside clock told me it was three in the morning, and I hadn’t slept at all.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”

  “I don’t wanna sleep.”

  A lamp popped on, and she was frowning as she inspected my face. “Why? You been having nightmares again?”

  I shook my head. “No, baby.”

  “Then what’s going on?”

  “Nothing. I was just…I…I was watching you sleep. I wanted to watch you sleep.”

  �
��Oh, okay. So you’re good?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good.” She smiled and turned the lamp off. Then she snuggled close to me, soon drifting back off to sleep.

  That was why I loved her ass so much, enough to fuck up the world for her if I had to. No matter how weird she might’ve thought my damaged ass was, she never let it push her away from me. She never stopped seeing me or giving herself to me.

  At that moment, I was convinced this woman was created just for me.

  10

  Kareema

  “My father…he was always good to my mom, treated her like a queen, and I really think he believed he was making men out of me and Shu and Jah. Fighting us, making us build decks and shit. Sometimes, he’d make us rake leaves then he’d dump them out of the trash bags and make us rake them again. One time, he got us up out of bed at like two in the morning and made us paint the damn living room, and we had school the next day. I can’t tell you how many times he’d make us fight each other, how often he’d just walk up to me and punch me in the chest and dare me to cry. I was like, ten damn years old!

  “Anyway, my mom wasn’t allowed to hug us. She told me he would only let her hold us if she was feeding us when we were babies. That was it. And him? Wasn’t no hugging or patting us on the back. None of that, because he was raising men. Men didn’t need hugs or kisses. Men, especially black men, needed to be ready for a fucked-up world that didn’t have nothing for them but hard knocks and injustice.”

  We were eating breakfast in his bed the morning before I was to leave when, out of the blue, he started talking about his past, his abusive-ass father who I wanted to shoot in the damn neck, and his obviously weak mother.

  “He made me good at fighting, though. Shit, I had no choice but to be good at it,” he continued. “In a way, he gave me my first career which led to me opening up my gym.”

  I didn’t know what to say and honestly believed he was talking more to himself than to me at that point, so I remained silent.