Down With the King of the South 3

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Down With the King of the South 3 Page 3

by Diamond Johnson


  Vonte was too damn attached to me for me to even think that he would want another sibling. In the almost sixteen years that he’d been on this Earth, he’d never said anything about wanting a sibling.

  “I don’t want to share you, but for a little sister, I will. I was up there playing the game, and I was on the phone with Tate. I could hear his baby sister in the background, so I entertained the thought. I wouldn’t want a little brother because I feel like I’ll be in competition to receive your love. With a sister, not so much,” he said and jumped up on the counter. All I could do was laugh.

  “You remind me of your daddy so much that it’s not even funny. When him and I had finally accepted the fact that I was pregnant and we were going to keep you, he said that he didn’t want a son because he felt like a son would take away all of the attention that I would give to him. He was so right. You’re my world, Vonte, and at the moment, you are everything and more to me. My body is exactly how I want it. It’s tight, firm, and I have a little four pack. Let me enjoy my damn body,” I fussed and hit him on his leg, so he could get off my damn counter.

  “Yeah, whatever! Just don’t bring a nigga over here to enjoy your damn body! Ima beat his ass,” he said in all seriousness. All I could do was shake my head. I swear he had to have been Trip reincarnated.

  “Shae! Shorty, you sleeping?” Miami said, snapping me out of the daydream that I was in about my baby.

  I swear there were times when I would just black out and think about old moments that I shared in the past with my son. So crazy how Maya was a few doors down, and I was thinking about a conversation that I had with Vonte a couple of years ago about him wanting a little sister. What was God trying to tell me?

  I barely even slept last night because I was back and forth to the bathroom, emptying my guts out from that pizza that I had. Plus, I was checking on Maya. I just wanted to make sure that she was okay. All that screaming and crying that she had done last night had worn her little ass out because she was sleeping in that bed and snoring like a grown ass man.

  It was a brand new day, and I still hadn’t come to a conclusion on what I was going to do yet. I knew that right now, I probably didn’t even have any time to think about it. The way Miami was behind me, spooning me to the point that I could feel his dick poking me in my ass, to the way he was whispering in my ear and asking me if I was sleeping, I knew what he wanted. I could feel what he wanted. I wanted it too, so I wasn’t even tripping.

  The clock on the wall read that it was a little bit after nine in the morning. Instead of answering Miami and letting him know that I was woke, I pulled the sheets down, just so I could remove the pajama bottoms and the thong that I had on.

  “I don’t know why you went to sleep with all this shit on anyway. My dick could have been inside you thirty seconds ago,” Miami groaned in the crook of my neck as I threw my bottoms on the side of the bed.

  “I thought if I went to sleep covered up, you wouldn’t touch me,” I joked, knowing that my comment would piss him off.

  “Shorty, you could go to sleep in a fuckin’ sweat suit with tennis shoes on, and I’ma still fuckin’ touch your ass. Fuck you mean? Take the shirt off too. You fuckin’ up the fantasy, shorty,” he said.

  “What’s the fantasy, Miami?” I asked, sitting up a little bit, just so I could remove the shirt from over my head.

  Now, I lay before him with my back facing him, completely naked. His hands went for my waist, and in seconds, I could feel that big, thick, dick trying to knock at my walls. I was already wet. I woke up next to my man, so I was going to wake up wet regardless, just like he woke up with his dick hard. The second I felt him pushing deep inside of me, my nails dug at the sheets that I was lying on, and I bit my lip as I silently thanked God for making this man who had me on the verge of cumming, and he hadn’t even started to penetrate me!

  “This my fantasy, shorty… fuckkkk.” He groaned and dug so deep in my pussy, like we were shooting a porn. One hand was on my waist, and the other one twirled my nipple around. My head was spinning, and my pussy was so wet that if this was my first time making love to Miami, I would have been embarrassed by the way it was loudly sounding off in this room with its wetness. “My fantasy is pushing inside you in the morning…. Watching you stumble out of here to go piss and handle your hygiene… Then watching you fix my breakfast with my kids swimming around in your stomach… Fuckkk, this pussy good, Shae. How daddy feeling this morning?” he sexily groaned to me.

  Swear this nigga would tell me anything, but I loved it. Miami was nasty, but his nastiness was times one hundred when he was inside me. It was the nasty shit he would say to me or the way he would hold me, spoon me, caress me, and kiss me, that had me telling him that he didn’t have to pull out. I played with my fuckin’ life when he was inside me because during these moments, nothing mattered. He could get me pregnant with triplets, and it just wouldn’t matter to me because the dick was worth it.

  “You feel sooo goodddd thisss morninggg. Every morning babbyyy… shitttttt, right thereeeee,” I cried, praying to God that Maya didn’t hear me.

  Miami had flipped me, putting me on my stomach, and that dick was in me, okay! I swear I thought that I would cough it up. My legs couldn’t even fully shake the way they wanted to when I started cumming because his body weight was on top of me. I came, and like the clock was ticking and we were pressed for time, he flipped us over. He was on his back, and I was on top of him.

  My legs felt like noodles, and my body felt drained from the orgasm that I’d just had, but I knew the type of man that Miami was, and he wouldn’t want to hear my excuses. So, with my legs on either side of me and with all of my body weight on top of him, I started riding him like I wanted that new Chanel purse and sneakers. Miami was definitely a sight to look at while I rode. Just the tattoos on his neck, his chest, his fingers, all of that. Those beautiful, hazel eyes looking up at me like I was his queen just did something to me and my pussy. It was the groaning that just set my pussy off. The way he would moan and say, “Fucckkk,” got me every time.

  “Shitttt. Ima bust,” he groaned with his hands holding my titties, damn near squeezing the life out of them.

  Because he sped up his strokes when he started cumming, I caught my second orgasm too. When I finished, I collapsed on top of him, burying my head in the crook of his neck. His dick was very much still inside of me, and his large hands rested on my ass while the two of us struggled to catch our breath.

  “That pussy hit different in the morning. I swear it do,” he voiced.

  “You say that when we have sex at night. It always hit different to you,” I said and was about to get up, but he kept me in place.

  “Morning pussy is always different. Them juices done sat there and marinated all fuckin’ night. Night pussy is good too, but most times, that shit be tired from the long day,” he said.

  I sat up and looked at him like he was crazy. Miami had a crazy ass thought process. Most people would probably get offended by half the shit that he said. He laughed at the look on my face right before he kissed me on my lips.

  “I’m high off your love, shorty, so excuse me. It was a fucked-up comparison, but I think you get what I was trying to say. At night, I think we be tired from the long ass day, so we kind of just rush to get that nut off and go to sleep is basically what I was trying to say. In the morning, it’s really no rush… fuck it! I’m high. I’ll explain this shit to you when I come down off this shit,” he said, followed by a laugh.

  Just when I was getting ready to say something to him, there were a few tiny knocks on our bedroom door, which I was sure belonged to Maya. I scrambled off Miami and walked fast into the bathroom to get my robe and put it on. I slipped my feet into my house shoes, and as I was walking out of the bathroom, Miami was walking in. He kissed me on my lips, and then I pulled away so that I could attend to Maya.

  When I swung the door open, she was on the other side in the cute, unicorn pajamas that Miami had gotten for
her last night. Now that I’d washed her hair and everything, I had it in a ponytail. This little girl had so much damn hair on her head that I literally got a headache last night after doing it. That could have been from the crying and everything else that she was doing, though.

  “Good morning. You hungry, Maya?” I asked her.

  Instead of answering me, she grabbed my hand into her little one and walked with me down the hall. We made it back into the bedroom that she slept in the previous night. She didn’t say anything, but she eventually dropped my hand and pointed to the bed. That’s when I walked over and instantly saw the big wet stain that was on the sheets, which had more than likely gone through the mattress.

  All I could think about was last night when I brought her in the room and was helping her get in bed. She kept timidly saying that she would sleep on the floor. I wasn’t sure if she thought that she would get in trouble for peeing in the bed or what, but she wouldn’t even look at me. I mean, her eyes were everywhere in this room except on me.

  “You do know that you’re not going to get in trouble, right?” I asked her.

  She looked up at me for a second before she shrugged.

  “I’ll wash the sheets, okay? You want to take a shower?” I asked, and she nodded her head yes, that she did.

  To take the focus off the fact that she peed in the bed, I went into the bathroom and started the shower. When Maya’s clothes came off, I could literally see the bones in her chest because she was so tiny. The pajamas that we’d gotten for her were a size 3T, and it was still too big for her. What the fuck was Krystal doing? It had me questioning if she was even feeding her.

  When we made it back home last night after Walmart, I gave Maya her pizza, which she picked over. I questioned if she just really didn’t care to eat. There were so many things wrong with this situation that I still wasn’t able to make it make sense. For ten minutes, I was back and forth from checking on Maya as she showered. I’d already placed the sheets in the washer, and now I was cleaning the wet spot on the mattress. By the time I finished, Maya was walking out, holding onto the towel around her body for dear life.

  I was a mother, so when I gave her a bath yesterday, I made sure to examine her body for any signs of abuse, but I didn’t see anything. Maya wasn’t suffering from physical abuse; instead, she was suffering from neglect. I stopped what I was doing just so at I could look at her. Although this little girl was the spitting image of her mother, she had features of Trip in her too, which meant that she favored Vonte.

  I kept thinking about the conversation that I had with Vonte a couple of years ago and him telling me that he wanted a sister. I mean, I could have a child, but what about the one right here? This was my son’s baby sister. For whatever reason, I saw her, and I saw Vonte. On one hand, everything was telling me to stop being so nice and put this child in a foster home or get CPS involved. This was not my responsibility, and I should not feel bad about not deciding to keep her. Ultimately, she was Krystal and Trip’s child, so they should deal with this.

  On the other hand, everything was screaming for me to just keep her. At least then, my conscience would be clear. When she was here, I knew she would be safe. I knew that she’d be properly fed, raised, loved, and cared for. Then, it put me in a situation where I still had to have some type of ties with Trip. Then again, maybe not because although I couldn’t confirm it, I knew that his stupid ass was the one who told his mom to bring Maya to my job in the first place. Then, I worried about me accepting her, making her mine, getting her where she needed to be, only for Krystal to decide that she wants to be a mother again.

  Truthfully, I thought the best thing for me to do would be to stay out of it, but I felt like I was already in it. I was looking at a little girl, probably no bigger than forty pounds, and those little eyes of her are screaming, Help me, Jashae. Because of that, I couldn’t just turn my back on her. My son wouldn’t want me to. I knew he wouldn’t!

  Mahogany Williams

  “Remember we’re leaving for Atlanta in the morning,” Jabari reminded me for like the thousandth time this week.

  Maybe he was doing so much reminding because he hadn’t seen where I packed my bags in preparation of our quick trip tomorrow. We were mainly going down there so he could check on one of his sneaker stores that he had out that way and for me to meet his mother. Last week, I talked to her on the phone for the first time, and she was okay. She just reminded me of a female version of Jabari, especially when it came to her mouth and the way that she talked to people. I wouldn’t say that she was rude, but she did come off as very blunt.

  I thought back to her asking me how long Jabari and I had been dating. When I told her that it had only been a few months, I heard her let out a sarcastic laugh. I knew how to hold my own, and I knew how to get back with a person if I felt like they were coming for me, but out of respect for her being Jabari’s mother, I was going to fall back, but only for a little bit. Her attitude was one of the reasons why I didn’t care too much about our trip to Atlanta tomorrow. On top of that, we were going to be staying with her for the two days that we would be there.

  I honestly dreaded that and would much rather stay in a damn hotel, but of course, I wasn’t going to tell that to Jabari. The last thing I wanted him to think was that I was already acting funny toward his mama. Plus, for the last couple of weeks, he and I had been good, and I didn’t want to say or do anything to possibly jeopardize that. I felt like my pregnancy had calmed Jabari down in a lot of ways, and it’s made him more vulnerable, especially toward me. It also made him give in to things that I desired more easily. Even right now, the two of us had stepped away from work so we could have lunch together. I was able to convince him to meet me at Olive Garden, although I knew that he hated everything about this restaurant. I, however, was a real fan of their soup and salad.

  “I know, baby. Why do you keep reminding me?” I asked after I took a sip of the water that was sitting before me on the table.

  We were sitting in a booth facing each other. Jabari was so handsome today, not to take away from how he looks any other day, though. I just felt like these days he had a “dad glow.” He was glowing right along with me in this pregnancy. He’d woken up extra early this morning, so he could go to the barber. They fixed my baby up real nicely. His waves were perfect, his tape was perfect, and everything about his facial hair was perfect. Sitting before me, he wore a white polo Burberry shirt with white shorts that stopped just before his knees. Plain, white Burberry sneakers were on his feet, and he wore simple jewelry, which wasn’t much but a gold Jesus piece around his neck and a male bracelet on his left wrist. Both of his tatted arms rested on the table as he looked at me, preparing me for whatever the hell was going to slip out of his mouth.

  When he sighed, I knew that it was going to be some bullshit.

  “Because you haven’t made a move yet, shorty. The flight leaves at four in the morning, and I feel like I been telling you every day this week to pack a bag. What? You don’t want to go or something?” he asked.

  The muscles in his jaw flexed, making him look ten times sexier. It was a bittersweet feeling when it came to Jabari being mad at me. On one hand, I hated it because what woman in their right mind wanted to be beefing with their man? On the other hand, damn he looked so fine when I got him all worked up.

  “Jabari, I have plenty of time to pack when we get home. Damn, you haven’t packed either. Why do I feel like you trying to pick a fight with me? You trying to piss me off so I can change my mind and don’t go? You must have a bitch up there that you’re trying to keep me from seeing,” I said and rolled my eyes.

  All that talk about us being on good terms quickly ended because, just that fast, I’d allowed him to piss me off. He shook his head, let out a forced laugh, and then took a swig of his drink.

  “This that crazy shit that I be talking about. If I was trying to hide a bitch from you, I wouldn’t have even invited your ass to come. That shit is starting to really turn me
the fuck off, Mahogany, real shit,” he voiced.

  “What exactly is turning you off, Jabari? Please explain,” I said and crossed my arms on the table, looking him dead in his eyes while really wanting to slap the shit out of him.

  “That insecure bullshit. Everything I say to you, it always got to translate to me having a bitch. I didn’t mind you saying the shit in the beginning because we weren’t necessarily together, and I was doing my little thing on the side. Now that we’re together and you’re carrying my fuckin’ baby, I don’t even look in another bitch’s direction. Give a nigga some fuckin’ credit, yo, because I’m trying,” he said.

  “I’m a lot of things, Jabari, but I’m not insecure—”

  “Then stop fuckin’ acting like it then!” he barked.

  I didn’t even say anything else to his ass because if I did, we would look like we were filming an episode of Love & Hip-Hop, meaning that everyone in this restaurant would be looking at us and seeking some sort of entertainment. Almost five minutes later, our food had come, and I picked over it because I didn’t have much of an appetite.

  “Oh, shit! Mahogany. That’s you?” I heard a voice creep up on me and ask.

  I knew that voice. It was all too fuckin’ familiar. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die when I heard him talking to me. I didn’t dare look at Jabari because I could already feel the heat from his eyes on me. The voice belonged to a guy named Jeremy. I wouldn’t say that he was an ex of mine, though, because he wasn’t. He was just someone who at one point in time was very fond of my pussy. He knew what it looked like, smelled like, even what it tasted like. The way he was so happy and shocked to see me proved that I’d put the pussy on him a few times, and he missed me.

  Jeremy was handsome, but put him side to side with Jabari, and it was like he didn’t even exist. He stood maybe 5’7”, which I didn’t too much care for because I was already tall myself, so any dude that I settled down with had to be taller than me. I needed him to still tower over me, even when I was in six inch pumps. Jabari’s height was just one of the many things that I loved about his ass. The only thing that Jeremy had in common with Jabari was the fact that their skin complexion was almost identical, but as far as the maintenance of his skin, it was nowhere near as perfect as Jabari’s was.

 

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