Page 33 of Lyric Squared

As black as he was, it should’ve been illegal for him to wear all black and looks so fucking good while simultaneously blending seamlessly with the darkness that surrounded him. I almost didn’t recognize his frame, but the toothpick that hung from his pearly white teeth was my savior. It exposed his perfectly aligned teeth, halting me at once.

“Ever… I uh– I’m going to uh– call you back.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” she squealed in my ear, but I was so lost in my thoughts and his eyes that I had no words.

None for him and especially for her as we shared unwavering gazes that splintered my heart and milked my eyes for tears that I simply couldn’t bring myself to shed, but inside, I wept. I wept. And I wept. Slowly, loudly. Uncontrollably, ridiculously I wept.

For my sanity and for my soul, I sobbed. Because no matter how much I tried to conceal it, forget it, dismiss it, the man before me held my heart in his hands. Whether he knew it or not, my body did, which was why I was drawn to him, unwillingly. Planting my feet on the floor, I tried my hardest to not move any closer no matter how magnetic our frames were.

“Ken?” I gasped, his dark figure sending me into shock.

“You love that nigga?” he asked, completely disregarding my panicked state.

Words failed me again.

THREE

She said nothing,pissing me the fuck off. I could feel my internal rage and distaste form for a nigga I barely even knew. He wasn’t worth the energy of getting to know, but the fact that he was more than likely trying to conquer a heart that I wanted to myself forced my interest. Only because I wanted to know what he was doing to make her smile the twenty-six times she had since she walked into Oat + Olive. I thought I would’ve lost count around ten, but as the number grew, so did my disdain.

“Ken,” she said my name, again, frustrating me.

“Keanu,” I corrected. That’s who she was interested in and that’s who stood before her.

“What are you doing here?”

“You want me here, so I’m here,” I stepped forward and didn’t stop until we were nose to nose. Chest to chest. Mouth to mouth.

She’s mine,I told myself.

“Why you talk all that shit in that message then fold on me?” I asked, chest aching at the thought of her not waiting for me like I’d waited for her all these years. “You love that nigga, Lyric?”

I needed to know. Waiting for her response had my jaws locking and my fists clenching. She didn’t get to love anyone else. I was her only option. No one else existed as long as I did.

The air that she released from her lungs after holding it in so long, brushed against my lips. Her chest inflated, meeting mine as it rose and then it fell shortly after. The energy shifted as she prepared to answer the question I’d put into the atmosphere almost a full minute prior.

“No,” she finally replied, pushing out the word along with another heavy breath.

Her chest rattled as her cheeks hiked and eyes lowered. The glossiness of them didn’t go unnoticed. Nothing ever did when it came to her. I caught everything, even the tears that fell from her eyes as she tried turning to run away from me.

“Come here,” I demanded.

Unable to control myself, I found one hand around her neck while the other untied the string that held her robe together. I leaned down and watched as her mouth slacked, opening and waiting for my intrusion. Infuriated that she was lending her time to another nigga while simultaneously aroused knowing that nigga could never fuck her or love her like I was going to, I summoned every drop of saliva I could.

Spuhhhhh.

I spat into her mouth, my dick hardening as the thickness slid down her throat and splattered around her lips.

She’s mine.

My lower hand continued to roam upon the realization that she was pantiless. Her hairless pussy slipped through the slits of each of my fingers, its meatiness making my mouth water and pre-cum ooze from the tip of my dick.

“I missed you, too,” I whispered to her, tightening the grip around her neck as her mouth fell open and legs widened.

“You don’t give a fuck about me,” she cried, softly, her voice weakening with each word.

Even she didn’t believe the bullshit she was spewing. Had it been anyone else, I’d allow them to think that because it would be very true. But, not her. Not my Lyric.

“You’re right. I give two fucks,” I admitted, rubbing her bald pussy with my index and middle finger. Her head fell back onto the wall.