Something True: Atlanta Outlaws

by Aja Cole

  “I’ll try.”

  36

  “Chris.” Jackson nods as he walks up the stairs past Chris with his bag.

  “Jackson.”

  I move slower, and when I’m a foot away, I can see the bruising on Chris’ face.

  “Hey little sis.” The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and drops quickly.

  I fight the urge to cross my arms, since I’m trying to seem open per Jacks’ request.

  “What happened to your face?”

  “Came to an overdue understanding.” He steps down two steps, sitting again. “Sit with me, please? There are some things I need to say.”

  I bite back my immediate thought that he’s said enough already, because growth. It’s damned hard though, let me tell you.

  I sit, and I wait, because I’m not going to make this any easier for him.

  “I need you to know that I’m a complete jackass.”

  I tilt my head, “Is that a new revelation?”

  “In some ways, yeah.” He leans on his knees and hangs his head, “Not only was I out of line for the things I said to you, but to make it worse, I was wrong. I won’t rehash it or repeat it, but I need you to believe that I didn’t mean it and I damned sure never meant to let you walk away thinking I thought you’d be a shitty mom.”

  I swallow, hopeful but still cautious. “Well, thank you for that.”

  “I only avoided you because I was ashamed. There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do for you and yours, Mims. I guess, seeing you grow up in so many ways at once, it brought out my fears and shit from my past that I had no business putting on you. Not only are Mom and Dad proud of you, but I’m proud of you and I know it doesn’t matter if I am or not because who am I,” His voice chokes up and I bite down on the inside of my lip to try to stop it from trembling. Chris raises his head, sincerity practically leaking from him. “But I need you to know that I am. I can only hope that I raise a daughter as intelligent and loving and graceful as you. I’ve hated every minute of us not talking and I never want to do that shit again.”

  The first tear drops from my eyes and I swipe it away. “It hurt, feeling like you didn’t have my back. I know I live up to being the annoying little sister, but…”

  “Yo, stop that.” He says, dropping down a few more steps so that he can grab my face. “I always got your back. Don’t doubt that anymore, not for one more second. I was an idiot, a total asshole but that’s done, okay? We’re family, fuck what blood runs through our veins. I’m supposed to be your big brother, your protector and I got you, even against myself, okay?”

  “Okay.” I nod, eyes spilling over. He drags me into his chest for a tight hug, and I feel the warmth of his tears hit my shirt.

  “Wow, we’re crybabies.” I sniff after long moments, laughing and wiping at my eyes.

  “I’m not too macho to say that sometimes, a man just needs to cry.” He says, and we give each other one last hard squeeze before we separate. Chris stands and holds out a hand, pulling me up and into his side as we walk up the stairs.

  “I missed you. I hated being mad at you, but I had to focus on Aliya.”

  “Yeah, I know. Great name choice, by the way, whose idea?”

  “Uhm, we really couldn’t choose so we threw a few options into a bowl and just picked one.”

  “Sounds exactly on brand.”

  “Do you want to hang out for a bit? We can order food or throw something in the oven. We’ve gotten a lot of food and I know Mom still has some at their house.”

  I apologize mentally to Jackson for further delaying our shenanigans, but something tells me that he’ll be understanding.

  No, not something.

  Knowing him tells me that he’ll be happy that we’re cool again.

  Chris squeezes me, all traces of tension gone. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  “One question…did Jackson give you that overdue understanding?”

  “I got a free one in on him that day at the house, so I had it coming.”

  Putting one last curl in my hair, I run my fingers through it to loosen them and look in the mirror.

  I look damned good.

  My skin is clear and my lips are as full as ever. My baby boobs just barely fit into this bodysuit, but I made it work and I can’t imagine that Jackson will care about the spillage. I’ve got my little pouch that hasn’t quite gone away, my ass and thighs have spread even more and some of my stretch-marks peek out.

  And you know what…I’ve never felt better.

  I’m different now, in more ways than just physically. I’d like to think that I’m better, and I’ve definitely learned a few things.

  I was going to save all this until I’m cleared to have sex again fully, but…I didn’t want to wait.

  Everyday with Jackson is a special occasion, and I think the man deserves a little more eye candy for just being exactly who he is.

  I can hear the TV on in the bedroom, and I shut the bathroom light off before I slip on my black silk robe, tying it loosely around my waist so the bodysuit and my impressive cleavage peek out.

  “Jackson…”

  “Hm?” He’s against the pillows with his arms up and hands clasped behind his head, watching ESPN. Well-maintained upper body on full display, biceps popped out. He’s making me really wish that having something other than a mouth full of my favorite dick was on the agenda tonight. His eyes slide towards me and the moment he gets a full view, he clicks the TV off and is on his feet, nearly stalking me. “Aw damn, Nomi.”

  “You like?” I turn slowly, flipping my hair and eyeing him over my shoulder.

  He pounces forward, grabbing me up in his arms and pressing hard kisses to my neck, my cleavage, my lips. “I love, baby. You’re so fucking sexy, jesus.”

  I bask in the attention, slipping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. His fingers dig into my ass and I love the edge, missed it. We’ve cuddled, kissed a little bit, but we’ve mostly kept away out of needing more comfort than arousal or not tempting ourselves once the tension eased.

  He sits on the bed, hands full of my ass and lips molded to mine. I nip and suck, kiss and lick, giving as good as I get, arousal lighting through me. Ripping away, I push him back on the bed, rising above him on my knees to let the robe slide off my shoulders and pool on his stomach.

  “Unh-unh, this is my show. I’m calling the shots tonight Daddy Smirf.” I can’t resist throwing that last bit in there, walking my fingers over the deep ridges in his stomach, over his broad chest before I smooth my hands over his shoulders, scratching lightly.

  “Alright, but uh, one thing first…” He trails off, reaching up to undo the laces on the bodysuit that contain my breasts, making the fabric gap and them fall out. “Carry on, just had to stop blocking my view.”

  “Hands above your head, no touching.” I say sternly, “Follow me, but keep your hands to yourself.” Once he grins his understanding, I move backwards on my knees and slip to the floor, rubbing my cheek over his boxers once I’m settled back on my heels.

  I lick out my tongue, wetting the fabric and moaning at how hard he is. It’s going to kill me to not fuck him, but I’m going to make absolute certain that this is a damned close second for him.

  Nibbling lightly on the underside of the thick column of cock, I slip my fingers under the briefs, bunching them at his thighs as my fingers move closer to where they want to be. With my teeth, I pull at his waistband, unveiling a magnificent, ruddy erection while my fingers tease his balls.

  I blow cool air over him, smiling wickedly when he hisses and his cock bobs.

  “I don’t think you understand just how much I love your dick.” I whisper, looking at him through my lashes while I move closer, feeling its heat reaching out to me but still not touching him.

  “Get your mouth on it if you love it so much,” Jackson pumps his hips towards me but I laugh, rubbing my cheek against him again.

  “Ask nicely and I’ll think
about it.”

  “Get that pretty mouth on my dick, please.”

  I hold his eyes, circling the base of his cock with my thumb and forefinger, sliding the length of him slowly…teasing. Moving down, I keep moving my hand while I suck his balls into my mouth one at a time. A shudder rolls through his body and his hands reach out to grab me before he remembers my edict and slams them to the bed, fists tight around the covers instead.

  “Good boy.” I praise, moving up on my knees to hover my open mouth over the head.

  He probably thinks he’s the most excited, but I think I might have him beat. I love the taste of his dick, I mean, I don’t think I’ve craved a man before the way that I crave Jackson. Whether that’s because this dick and this earthy, potent taste is connected to a man that I love or what, I have no idea.

  I just know that I need it and nothing would make me happier to have right this moment than for him to cum down my throat.

  “Do you want me to lick it?”

  He blows out air, eyes heavy-lidded and needy. “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to suck it?”

  “Yes, baby.”

  “Hmmmm,” I hum, letting my hands fondle his balls instead. “Okay.”

  I sink my mouth down onto him with no warning and no hesitation, opening wide and taking him as deep into my throat as I can, only the smallest gag sounding before I swallow it back, throat working around him in the process.

  “Fuckinghell,” He growls, whole body tense, hands curling and uncurling on the sheets, still following my orders. “Shit, Nomi, damn.”

  I hollow my cheeks as I come off him, slipping back down once, twice, three times, moaning each time, unable to stop myself from letting him hear how much I genuinely love tasting him. Pulling back, I lap at his cock-head, the pulses of pre-cum that bead at the tip not nearly enough. Surging up, I pounce on him and kiss him hard before rolling off him and to my back, pushing my breasts up and together.

  I don’t have to say anything else because he’s up and over me in mere seconds, pinning me with his weight in the most delightful way. It’s all sexy, and I hold his eyes when I lean up and let spit drip between my breasts for lubrication. He just shakes his head at me, teeth grit and cock throbbing an angry deep red.

  I’m not sure he’s able to form words right now, but that’s okay, our bodies can finish this conversation just fine.

  Jackson moves up on his knees, slipping between my breasts all the way. He starts a steady pump, and each time he pokes through, I lick him, mouth wide open and waiting.

  I press and he pushes, faster and faster until he’s bent over, hands bracing on the bed and back bowed, watching me lick and beg for his cum with small mewls and whimpers.

  I love how primal and lost in desire he looks, head dipped and hips bucking.

  “I need to taste you, Jacks. Please?” I whisper.

  “You need my cum?”

  “Yes, baby. So bad.”

  “Take it all, every damned drop.” He groans, straightening up and pumping his cock with his hand. I lean up, dropping my breasts and pushing his hand away, sealing my mouth over him to suck hard, feeling his hands sink into my hair and keep me in place. Thick, hot cum pulses into my mouth and I swallow it down each time it comes, licking him softly before he pulls me back with a gentle hand, eyes full of affection when he looks down at me.

  “You are something else, woman.”

  “I’m yours.” I say easily, feeling that truth deep in my bones.

  He moves off me, sliding down next to me to grip my neck and bring me to him, slanting his mouth over mine in a deep, reverent kiss that makes my soul sing.

  “Damn right you are.”

  37

  “Just send the changes to Kaitlyn, because I want her to okay them before we send it out to the team, yeah?”

  “Got it. It seems awfully quiet at your house right now for a newborn to be around.” Kiely smiles through the screen.

  “It’s because she’s clearly a Daddy’s girl and they’re knocked out together.” I pick up the iPad from the desk and walk out to the living room, switching the screen so she can see what I’m seeing. Marina and Ivan came back down once Aliya came home and they’re actually staying with my parents, because they’ve apparently all taken a liking to each other. Marina and my mom came over earlier and cleaned everything they could get their hands on. They did all the laundry, cleaned all the bottles, surfaces, hell; I think the house might look better than it probably did when Jacks moved in.

  We’ve got a village, that much is abundantly clear and I couldn’t be happier. Corie, Chris and Jackson helped me put together big baskets for everyone in the NICU. Day nurses, night nurses, the doctors and heck, the janitors and support staff too. We filled them with different snacks and made sure everyone would at least have one Visa gift-card. I left those with one of the nurses that I got to know the most, Hanna, so she could make sure everyone got theirs. I wrote personal thank you notes, too, because there’s really no amount of gratitude that will ever completely cover how happy and thankful I am for the people who cared for Aliya.

  They don’t know it yet, but a chunk of the 1.5 million from the sale of the house in California will be going to them, too. Another chunk will go into a trust for Aliya, and I’m thinking I’ll use to rest to donate to a few charities and shelters.

  “Awww, look at them.”

  Jackson is on the outside, laid across the large chaise part of the couch, body curved slightly toward the side sleeper that Aliya is snoring in.

  Actually, they’re both gently snoring and totally passed out.

  After five weeks in the NICU, she was discharged with the all clear and the three weeks since then have gone by so quickly that it still feels unreal. She came home a few days before Christmas, and it was the best gift for the whole family. My girls from dance class have sent their cards and gifts, or met her over video-chat because we want to limit how much exposure she has these first few weeks out of the hospital. I can’t wait to get back in the studio; my slightly achy hips are really messing with my splits.

  Jacqueline already sent over tons of baby clothing in different sizes and earrings for when she gets her ears pierced, and I’m fairly certain they’re more expensive than I want to know.

  If someone had told me that I’d be ringing in the New Year back home with a baby, new job and a new boyfriend, I’d have laughed in their face before I shut the door.

  Now I can’t imagine my life any other way.

  “Alright boss, I’m going to make a snack while my boobs are free of baby.”

  “Okay gorgeous, we’ll talk soon.” She waves her fingers and I end the call, sitting it on the table before I head to the kitchen. I’m thinking nachos, because I won’t have to feel bad about dropping cheese on Aliya’s head…again.

  I give the bottle and baby to Jackson. “Will you feed her and put her down? I need to get out of these clothes.”

  “Yep.” He leans towards me, cradling Aliya in his big arms and I give him a quick kiss before I stroke Aliya’s cheek, love making my heart sing when she smiles with all gums, making little spit bubbles. I press a kiss to her forehead before I go ahead of him up the stairs, heading to the bathroom while they go to the nursery. My shirt smells like spoiled milk and it’s not the most pleasant scent.

  We just got back from having a bit of family time at my parents house, and it’s been a long day. Before that, Delia did Aliya’s baby pictures because I loved the maternity shoot photos so much. The more tame ones are hanging in the hallway, and the more intimate ones are in our bedroom.

  I take a shower, letting the hot water beat against my muscles. I’ve been itching to get back into the dance studio, and I’m going to go back next week while my mom watches her new grand-baby. Jackson is great with Aliya, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants another child. I’m enjoying the her being here more than I enjoyed those last weeks of pregnancy, and I didn’t even make it as far as a lot of women. I like the freedom t
hat comes with not constantly worrying about what I do to or with my body so that I don’t damage the baby inside me. When she was in the NICU and I felt more of a sense of loss, I just wanted her back. Now…I’m glad that aside from breastfeeding, it’s getting back to being my body again. By the time I finish showering and moisturizing, Jackson is on his way to the bathroom to do the same.

  He sets the baby monitor on the dresser and tugs me to him on my way to get pajamas. After pressing a searing kiss to my lips, he holds his forehead to mine.

  “Thank you for our daughter.”

  I told you, the man is completely enamored. It almost seems crazy that I thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with us after I got pregnant.

  “Thank you for your sperm.” I tease, smacking another kiss to his mouth. “Did she go down easy?”

  He strips off his shirt and tosses it in the hamper, “Yeah, passed out right after I finished burping her. You wanna catch up on The Good Place tonight?”

  “Ooh, yes. I’ll cue it up, you go get all clean and…wet.” I sigh, lamenting that even though I’d love to pounce on him in the shower, I just don’t feel up to it. It’s odd, knowing that I want him but not exactly feeling it all the time. My brain says we find this human too attractive for words and my body says ehhh, maybe tomorrow.

  “Aw baby, you sound so sad.”

  I pull a long tee over my head, then flop back onto the bed dramatically. “I’ll be glad when I’m done breastfeeding and it doesn’t feel like the Sahara desert.”

  “That’s what good lube is for.” He tosses back, heading to the bathroom. I listen to the water cut on while I flip through Hulu for The Good Place, and try not to visualize what I know he looks like in there.

  We’re in the middle of an episode when Aliya starts crying, and Jackson goes to check on her, coming back to report that he put her back to sleep.

  Only…for the next two hours, she wakes up screaming in 15-30 minutes intervals, with both of us switching off to check on her. Finally, on my last turn and after checking her diaper, singing her songs and checking if she needs to eat again to no avail, I sit her between two pillows in the nursery recliner and kneel down in front of her. Chipmunk cheeks, beautiful wide, light brown eyes and a compact, trembling mouth. Her cap of soft black hair is sticking up in all different directions and we watch each other, whines and grumpy cries coming from her.