Before I can push Mallory off, her body is flung from mine, her grip on my dick painful when she lets go. I cower over myself, gripping my cock and wiping my soaked mouth at the same time. “Christ!” I growl, disgusted.
“Bitch, what in the world are you doin’ putting your skanky-ass hands and filthy mouth on my man!” Dara screeches, one hand on her hip, the other pointing a finger.
Mallory is gasping for breath, her body slanted across the leather couch in the back of the booth where visitors sit to watch the acts record. “Your man!” she says with a raised voice and tries to stand.
The second Mallory stands, Dara smacks her face and shoves her back down. “Bitch, did I say yo’ skanky ass could get up? No, I did not! Sit the fuck down before I hurt you.” Her voice is nothing like the sweet meditation teacher I am most often graced with. This Dara is a sista from downtown Oakland ready to open up a can of whoop ass and scratch a bitch’s eyes out.
“Dara,” I try, but she swings around, her face twisted with anger and a hint of hurt in her pretty blues.
“Did you willingly kiss her? Put your mouth on her, let her put her hand on your dick?” she roars.
“Baby, no, but please—” I shake my head.
She lifts a hand between us. “And did you lead this skank on?”
I shake my head instantly because holy shit. My girl is pissed. As in pissed. And I do not want to be the recipient of her wrath.
She continues undaunted. “Last I recall, it was my mouth you were kissing. Me you were fucking. My body that is having your baby!”
“Shit yeah. No way, dude!” Atlas gasps, his mouth opens, which he immediately covers with both hands when Dara flings her gorgeous locks around and glares at him.
“Silas was meant for me!” Mallory stupidly bites out.
Dara tips her head back and laughs. “Girl, you are wacked in the head if you think he’d want fake when he can have all of this.” She runs her hands down the sides of what I gotta admit is a spectacular body. My wife Sarah was beautiful. She looked good. Dara is a straight knockout. No man on this earth would deny that. Petite height but the body of a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. Normally, she’s sweet as pie. Just apparently not when a woman is stomping on what she considers her turf. And though I hate to think it, I’m pretty fucking pleased and a tad turned on that she’s putting on such a show. I just wish it wasn’t with my cash cow.
“Baby…” I approach Dara with my hands up in surrender. “We have an appointment with our baby doctor to check on our little one,” I say, reminding her what’s really important.
Her shoulders drop, and I slide my hand around her waist, covering our baby protectively. “Mallory, I’m sorry this went down the way it did, but Dara’s my woman. She’s having my baby. We’re building a life together…”
“Righteous!” Atlas says, clearly in awe of the entire thing.
“Silas, baby, I don’t care. I can have babies for you,” Mallory keeps on.
“Bitch! Please!” Dara’s body tightens in my arms, and I swear she’s a second away from getting in another scuffle, this one to knock Mallory out.
Gripping Dara, I turn her away from Mallory and hand her off to Atlas. She snarls and scowls.
I put my arms out and grab Mallory’s hands. “You are sweet, talented, and there are so many men out there who would want to be with you. I’m not that man. I have a woman. Dara. She’s my future, and we’re having a family. Please hear me. This, between you and me, is never happening. I’m sorry. And for this reason, I’m putting Atlas on as your producer. We need to keep a professional distance from one another.”
Mallory’s brown eyes tear up. “But…” Her lip trembles. “I know you could love me.”
I shake my head. “Not when my heart has been taken by another woman. I’m sorry. Atlas, please…” I gesture to Mallory, and he steps up.
Atlas places a hand to my shoulder. “Dude…you have some serious explaining to do.” Regardless, he smiles widely, showing his happiness in the news he’s just heard.
“We gotta go.”
I clasp hands with Dara and intertwine our fingers.
Before we leave, she calls out, “Better stay away from my man, blondie, or you deal with me!”
Tugging Dara out the door, down the hallways, and out the front door into the open air, I spin her around and press her into the wall.
“Si, I know what you’re going to say, but seeing her hand on your package, her mouth on your lips, I lost it. I went a little crazy, but I’m not sorry. She had no right to put her hands and mouth on my man. Those are my lips. That’s my dick!” Her voice is petulant and immature.
I love every fucking word, but the woman needs to shut up in order for me to tell her what I want to say. So instead of hollerin’, I place my lips on hers and kiss the daylights out of her. It takes a nanosecond for her to catch on and participate. Her rigid, angry stance melts into me, her tongue dancing with mine, giving me all of her when she wraps both arms around me and moans her pleasure into my mouth.
After I’ve kissed her long and hard and her eyes are half open and lustful, I lay it out for her.
“Baby, I’m not mad. I should be, but I’m not. You stood up for me against Mallory when you could have blamed me. It didn’t even cross your mind I was cheatin’, and that says a ton about the trust you have in what we’ve got. I fuckin’ love that. Thank you. Thank you for having my back.”
Instead of saying anything in reply, she hauls up on her toes, wraps her arms back around me, and kisses me long and hard at the same time. Her tongue delves deep, and she moves her head to the side and drinks from my lips hungrily, only stopping when she needs air.
I take a few deep breaths, pressing my forehead against hers. “We okay?” I ask, my breath coming in harsh pants.
“Yeah. You ready to see how our baby is?”
“Thank God you didn’t get into a full-on fist fight. Doesn’t take much but your mouth and your quick hands to put an admirer in her place.” I crack the joke, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“You’d do well to remember that. I don’t share, and I don’t like women all up on what’s mine.” Her sass is magnificent and surprising since she’s been mostly Zen this entire time. I mean, I know the girl has some attitude, but it had never reached this proportion until another woman was threatening her claim.
“I agree. If the situation was reversed, no telling what would have happened.”
“Good thing we won’t ever have to worry,” she says, a bit of humor in her tone.
I, however, am not amused. She garners attention wherever she goes. I’ve never been with a woman who gets so many eye-fucks from the men she passes on a regular basis. Restaurants, shopping centers, movies. The yoga studio. Hell, half the people coming to the bakery are men dressed to the nines just wanting a piece of my woman. Her time. Her pretty smile. Her tasty baked treats. I can’t wait until the day she is showing. Bet business goes down fifty percent when those men can physically see they have no chance in hell with the shit-hot baker.
Dara leads me into the waiting room, where we don’t even sit before our name is called. Since we got here right to the minute of our scheduled appointment, I was relieved. Spending thirty minutes thinking nothing but negative thoughts was not high on my list of things I wanted to do. Still, I couldn’t help it. I’ve been in this position before. Nerves were tight at this point.
We are brought into a room, where Dara is told to change out of her clothes. I stay for everything, enjoying her groan when she has to put on a paper gown and place the equally scratchy paper blanket over her lap. Instead of focusing on my anxiety at what the doctor may find, I put my attention on Dara. Rubbing her shoulders and neck, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, nose, and lips until the doctor finally enters.
When Dara lies down, the doctor lubes up the probe for the transvaginal ultrasound. Dara spreads her legs, and both of us look anxiously at the screen. The doctor is silent, clicking buttons and mov
ing the wand until finally…she smiles.
That single tip of the lips from the doctor says it all. Our baby is in there and more importantly…alive.
“There. There’s your baby.” She stops the screen and holds it in place, lifts her hand, and points at the white curved bean-shaped form.
The image increases as the doctor zooms in, and what I’m gifted is absolutely perfect. A baby. Rounded head, profile of a face with a little nose and lips, legs, arms, and back. Then, right before our eyes, the baby kicks its legs and moves its hands.
Tears fill my eyes and fall down my cheeks. My child. Kicking. Moving. Alive.
“Wanna hear the heartbeat?” the doctor asks.
I can’t respond. I just stare at my child moving around inside its momma.
“Yes, please,” Dara says.
The doctor pulls out another contraption I don’t really remember the last time with Sarah and places it over Dara’s belly.
A swish swish sound enters the room. “And that’s the heartbeat, Mom and Dad.”
Dara’s hand squeezes mine, and I force myself to look down at her. “Silas…” she whispers, her own tears sliding down her cheeks. “Our baby is beautiful.” Her words crack, emotion bleeding through them.
I glance at the screen, living for every movement, every swish swish I can hear.
“Yes. Beautiful,” I murmur and then kiss her lips. I give her everything I can in that kiss.
My time. My commitment. My heart.
I pull back and look into her ocean eyes, my own leaking nonstop. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me something to live for.”
Chapter Fifteen
The third eye chakra is associated with intuition and devotion. Individuals driven by this particular chakra can be counted on to know what their partner needs, instinctively. They also tend to be people who mate for life.
DARA
Silas has not left my side for a solid week. Okay, I’m exaggerating. He’s gone to work each day, but before work, he’s with me. After work, he’s back at the bakery, waiting for me to finish my day, shooting the breeze with the regulars, and breaking the hearts of hopeful yogis everywhere with his fine-ass manliness. Except, of course, on the night when he goes to see his therapist. Still, right after that appointment, he’s knocking on my door. After I gave him the code, he also requested his own key. Since we’re making this relationship official, I gave him one. However, I did not think this meant he’d take this gesture so seriously he wouldn’t leave.
Meaning, Silas hasn’t gone to his own home since our twelve-week appointment. Now we’re well into thirteen, scraping on the edge of fourteen, and he’s still hovering. Which is weird, but I haven’t been able to tell him this because I enjoy having him around all the time. He’s extremely helpful and goes out of his way to be so. He lifts heavy things, helps out around the bakery, and is generous in bed. When I say generous, I’m talking two big Os a night. A woman would be stupid to complain about that, especially when it’s attached to such a big, attractive, fine-as-fuck brother who’s doting on my every word.
It’s still strange because I have yet to meet his family. He knows every single person in my world. This is easy to do. My world is surrounded by the bakery, my small family, and the studio. My mother is now head over heels in love with him. My father thinks he’s famous and tells everyone he knows that my baby daddy is a “McKnight,” which he thinks bodes well for his daughter’s future of becoming a McKnight as well. That particular thinking, I ignore. Silas has even made a truce with Ricky. Everyone at Lotus House knows him now, but I still can’t shake the feeling something’s not right. Most of my concern goes back to the fact that I have not met his family. A family, he’s made a point to tell me, is usually really close.
The door to the bakery opens as I’m sweeping the floor. I closed up ten minutes ago but must have left it unlocked. Silas smiles huge as he enters, another duffel bag of what I assume is more clothing in his hands. He’s been adding to his stockpile each day. There are so many of his suits, dress shirts, and slacks my closet is now beyond tight. And he didn’t even ask if he could hang them. And when I asked about it, he just said he didn’t want wrinkled shit to wear to work. As if that answered that. I once more did not dig further because I like having him around every day, and yet it’s concerning.
“Hey, baby.” I smile and set the broom aside.
He comes to me, lifts me up, and spins me around, his pale-green eyes sparkling with happiness. “I have great news!” He kisses me hard and quick before pulling back and setting me back on my feet.
“Great. What?” I lean against the table and place my hand over my belly. It’s gotten a little harder, and Silas is convinced I have a miniscule bump protruding out. He’d know, since he spends a lot of time rubbing, kissing, and touching that space.
“Sold my house.” He shrugs off his blazer and hangs it over one of the empty chairs.
I purse my lips. “Say what?”
“Got more than asking price too. A lot more. Now we just gotta keep our eyes peeled for a house close to here, and we’re golden, lil’ mama. Life is turning around!” He spins in a circle, as smooth as if he were Michael Jackson himself, and snaps his fingers.
Trying and failing to comprehend all that he said, I shake my head. “Back the truck up, buddy. Put that in reverse. You sold your house?” I frown, trying to catch up. He never mentioned he put his house on the market. Why in the world would he sell it?
“Yep.”
“That amazing one-story closer to your work by thirty minutes?” I dig, figuring I must have it wrong. Maybe he had more than one house.
“And scored a wad of cash for it too.” He smiles widely, obviously proud of himself.
“Thought you loved that house. It’s where you and Sarah started up, where you wanted to bring your baby home.” My tone is filled to the brim with emotion, cracking as my throat constricts and my heart starts to pound.
Silas clocks the tone and comes to me, wrapping me up in his big arms. “What’s this I hear in your voice. Sadness?”
For a long time I stare into his eyes, seeing nothing but concern. The house he bought with his wife is sold. She’s gone, and now the home they were going to bring their baby to is gone. He’s got me and our baby. “You were not kidding about moving forward,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Dara, baby, what did you think we were doing here?”
“I don’t know. Getting to know one another,” I respond rather lamely.
“Baby, I knew you the second I tasted you.”
His words are nice, so nice, but I didn’t expect him to give everything up for me. “You’re going to miss that house.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “Being in that house alone with a ghost of my past was not helping me move on with my life. You and this baby are my life now, and I love what I’ve got. No more living in the past for me, baby. I’m right here.” He places his hand over my belly where our baby is growing. “Where I’m supposed to be, with you and our child. Not leaving that.”
“So that’s why you’ve been bringing clothes over every night? Because you sold your house?”
He chuckles and kisses my forehead before dipping his gaze to mine. “No, my queen. I’ve been at your house every night because I can’t stay away anymore. Don’t want to. Shouldn’t have to. If you’re not kicking me out, I’m not leaving. Told you weeks ago, wherever you are is where I want to be. That hasn’t changed today, and it won’t change tomorrow. What will have to change is a bigger pad for you, me, and our baby.”
“A bigger pad?”
He laughs. “Yeah. A home. For the three of us.”
I’m in love with you.
Again, I think it but don’t say it. Something inside me is scared to say it, blurt it out and ruin this moment. What if he doesn’t love me back?
He couldn’t. Not when he’s been dealing with loss. I know he cares and loves to be with me, but only time will tell if that turns into love. He
loved Sarah. Married her, spent ten years loving her. He’s only known me three months, and I’m carrying his child. We need more time.
My mama was right. She’s always warned me, “Watch out, baby girl. You fall hard, and you fall fast. Just don’t fall for stupid.” Unfortunately, I’ve been down that road a couple times already, yet Silas is so much more than any man I’ve ever been in a relationship with. He’s everything I could ever want or dream of in a man. I just need to know he’s mine and no longer Sarah’s. I can appreciate he’ll always have a place in his heart for his wife who passed, but I want the rest. My baby and I deserve that.
“I’m happy for you,” I whisper, controlling the words I want to set free.
“Be happy for us!” He puts his hands on my biceps. “We get to house shop!” He grins like this is something to celebrate, and maybe it is.
“Baby, you haven’t even asked me to move in with you, or vice versa, and you want us to house shop?” I shake my head and cringe.
Silas jerks his head and steps back a couple paces. “I’m sorry, baby. Did I hear you right?”
I glance around. “There’s no one else here but me and you. I’m sure you did.”
He shifts the right hand holding my arm and runs his fingers down to my hand. He interlaces our fingers, and immediately, our hand chakras start buzzing. “Dara, I told you. This is me and you and our baby. We’re doing this. Lil’ mama, I thought you were with me?”
I lick my lips and drop my head, focusing on the glitter in my painted toes. “Yes, I’m with you. It’s just that you make moves and don’t tell me you’re making them. How am I supposed to keep up?”
He frowns. “Been bringing my stuff to your house every day. What did you think I was doing?”
I shrug. “Wanting to be with me?”
“Fuck yeah. For good, not for a night. Is this not something you want?” His facial expression guts me; I can see it in his eyes, that fear of being unwanted. His aura color changing is not helping either. He’s nervous, bordering on scared. “Am I wrong to think more is happenin’ between us than what really is?”
Intimate Intuition Page 17