Page 10 of He Don't Play About Me
I held my phone up in the air, outta eyesight of hers if she happened to wake up to see what the fuck I was sent. The message did put a smile on my face, but my alarm went off, making Islah move. I locked my phone quick and placed it on the nightstand before she opened her eyes, smiling at me.
“Good morning, baby,” she said low and soft.
I smiled at my baby. “Good morning, boo, how did you sleep?”
She sat up and stretched. “I slept good. What you gotta do today?”
“Remember, T wanted me to hit some licks for ‘em. I’ma slide through there.”
She had a look on her face that I didn’t like, but I wasn’t gonna question it. I just needed to make sure it wasn’t any extra shit on her mind when I left.
“But before I go…” I said low, getting up close behind her, kissing her neck and her shoulders while wrapping my arm around her waist, pulling her into me. “I need some of you.”
She left out a soft hum, nuzzling her head into me. “You always want some of me,” she teased, as she rubbed her soft hands over my arms.
My hand found its way up under her shirt and around her neck, pulling her back, making her look at me.
“You mine, I always need that.”
I took my time kissing all over her soft skin, pulling her back onto the bed. Islah held a special place in my heart. She was loyal, unbreakable. I knew that every ounce of her body was mine, and ain’t a nigga alive that could make her feel the way I do.
“Gio…” she breathed, looking at me. “Take your time, baby…I don’t give a fuck what you have to do.”
I smirked at her. In that moment, I didn’t give a fuck what I had to do either.
I climbed on top of her, lookin’ into her beautiful eyes, and slid deep in her. She arched her back and moaned out like it was the first time she ever felt this dick. I took my time with her as she asked. Slow, deep thrusts, her eyes rolling back, kissing her hard to where she can still feel the warmth from my lips once we separate. Her legs were around my waist, pulling me into her deeper. I wanted every inch of me in her. I loved hearing her call out my name, beggin’ me not to stop. When that thought never crossed my mind.
We kissed, tossed, and turned all over the bed, nuttin’ over and over, all until she was on my chest, breathing hard, tracing her finger across my Thug Life tattoo.
“Babyyy…” she said slow. “You made me tired as hell.”
I chuckled. That’s what I wanted.
“Good, get you some rest while I handle this, baby,” I said, waiting for a response from her, but she was already knocked.
I moved her off me softly, got my shit together, and hopped in the shower. My phone was goin’ off on the counter. I knew it was T, and I wasn’t sweatin’ it.
After my shower, I checked in on Islah one more time, kissing her forehead and leaving out.
I was quiet on the drive to T’s house. My mind wasn’t on anything that had to do with the streets. My mind was on Islah, the shit we’ve been through, the years she put in to dealing with me and all my bullshit. I needed to stop playin’ games and do right by her, and seeing T was a start.
When I pulled up to her crib, she was sittin’ on her front porch, glass of wine in her hand early. I shook my head, looking at her through my tints. I hopped out, grabbed my duffel bag, and walked up her sidewalk.
“I know damn well you got my messages bright and early this morning!” she yelled out.
I laughed to keep myself from spazzin’ on her.
“Trina, chill the fuck out,” I said, steppin’ on her porch. “You know better than to be hitting my line like that anyway.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes as she stood up, swinging her storm door open and walking inside. I shook my head and lit my half of blunt that was in my duffel bag before I walked inside to deal with her shit.
“Can you tell me what the fuck is your problem?” I asked as I walked in.
She was sitting on her couch. lookin’ at me crazy.
“I wanted you yesterday?—”
“And?” I said, cutting her off.
