Page 100 of Just Listen
“Ion know what you’re talking about.” I turned to gaze out of the window.
“Nah. Look at me, Jaylah,” he sternly commanded.
Sighing, I turned to look at him.
He glimpsed at me. “The fuck is up? Huh?”
“Why does something have to be up?”
“Because. This is a pattern. Every time something happens between us. Something that you don’t like. Then you run to the club, acting like a thot.”
I frowned. “Acting like a thot? You got me fucked up. Plus, I’m doing the same shit that caught your fucking attention. Don’t forget that.”
“Nah, I aint forgot. You was acting thottish then. The difference now is that youmythot, and you need to move fucking accordingly.”
“Accordingly? Oh, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” I established. “Because anytime a nigga can come in at five in the morning, then I can go shake my ass until I get good and tired.”
“I was handling business,” he argued. “You can’t compare that to you posting up in the club.”
“No, what we’renotgonna do is act like you’re doing something respectable that I should have understanding for,” I sneered. “That street shit is for the birds, and we might as well address the shit.”
He angrily nodded. “Okay, address it.”
“Alright. I don’t see myself doing anything long-term with somebody who is actively in the streets, with no real exit plan in sight.”
He frowned. “Who said that I didn’t have a exit plan?”
I bucked my eyes. “Then what the fuck is it? What’s the amount needed? What do you have to have accumulated?”
He hesitated. “That’s not a simple question. It’s logistics—”
“No, fuck that,” I lashed. “All you gotta do is look at everything you have. The money. The jewelry. The investments. Everything. Then ask yourself if any of it is worth you having to spend the next ten or twenty years of your life in jail tomorrow. If the answer is that not a penny of it is worth you giving up that type of time, then there’s your fucking answer.”
He sniffed. “I hear you.”
“No, I don’t think you’re hearing me, at all,” I persisted. “Maybe somebody like Paisley is suited better for you. Because I know that she had her own motion, but me and her are cut completely different. If you didn’t hold up your end, then that would’ve impactedherlifestyle. When a man is the provider, it sounds a little weird when a woman wants him to compromise their livelihood. So, although she doesn’t like it, she has to accept what you’re doing, until you’re in the position to do something different. However, this aint that. I’m never gonna be okay with you not having structure, and always using the hustling as an excuse to run the streets. And don’t try to tell me that I just don’t understand, when I’m the daughter of one of the biggest D-boys this city has ever seen. So, I know firsthand that a man with any real motion is a shot caller. He moves when he wants to. The problem is that you niggas got hustling mixed up with a lifestyle. Rolling through the hood, kicking it with your boys, gambling is all a choice. Shit that you don’t have to partake in. And I refuse to believe that whateverbusinessyou had to handle, could only be done at four in the fucking morning.”
After my rant, the jeep fell silent for a moment.
Then he eventually cleared his throat. “So, what are you saying, Jaylah?”
“I’m saying that perhaps the fact that Paisley was such a hill to climb, that we never stopped to examine everything. I’m saying that you being Khari’s daddy, and fucking me good is not enough. If you can’t find a balance that we’re both comfortable with, then I don’t see this working. And maybe you aint up for the challenge of changing, which is more of a reason that you aint got no business tryna stop me from doing—"
“I never said that I wasn’t open to change, Jaylah. Shit, I done already changed. I aint never been in the house as much as I am now,” he interjected. “I’m fucking trying, and I need you to bear with me. You just gotta find a better approach. Come talk to me versus going to do something that you know is gonna piss me off.”
I slid my tongue across my teeth. “So, me going out is a dealbreaker?”
“Nah. Like you said, I met you in the club. You young and lit. I get it. I just want you to move, like you would if I was right there with you. And you know fucking well that you wouldn’t have left the crib, wearing this bullshit, if I was there.”
I smirked, knowing that he was right.
“Yeah, I see you trying to hide that grin,” he teased. “But it’s all good. We gon see who’ll be laughing in a minute.”
~~~Chapter 22~~~
As I was holding the back of Malice’s dreaded head, his tongue was buried in my mouth, while we kissed, deeply. My back was pressed into the mattress, as he was between my thighs, sliding in and out of my sloppy wet pussy. I was saturated with his releases, and I don’t think that my bed had bounced and squeaked this much since I’d had it.
The sun was now rising, and he was still fucking me. Had been for a few hours. Usually, I would’ve been pissed if somebody wanted to go this long and strong, however, with Malice I could never seemingly get enough. His big dick was almost magical, as it hit every nerve ending, sensually.
