Razor's Edge (Afflictions) (22 page)

She goes to put it down and I stop her hand. "It’s okay."

She cocks her head. "It’s permanent."

I chuckle.
No shit.
"Yeah, but I can forgive my tattoo-wielding assailant."

Shay

Oops.
I can’t believe I just did that. What was I thinking? I wasn’t. My foot was on the pedal the whole time and I forgot. The way he makes me feel, like I’m a shrine to motherhood, to womanhood. It’s something I've never felt before. That he’d put the kids and me above his addiction is everything I needed to hear, and I lost myself.

Just words.

The mark on his collarbone isn’t.

It’s hard not to find the symbolism in that. If he can write off a mistake that’s permanent, shouldn’t I forgive a little white lie that’s not? It only seems fair.

With a shaky hand, I hover the gun over the mistake I made. "You’d put me above your addiction. How far?"

His breath hitches. Eyes flare. He pulls his lip ring into his mouth and nods. He’s giving me complete control. Trusting me.

My body fires with heat and it coils in my core. He knows what I’m going to do.

I press the needle down and draw a line from the
oopsy on his collarbone to his nipple. He tenses, then his warm hands gently run down my sides, sending tingles to every fiber inside me. My hips jerk. I lift the gun and meet his eyes. “Not going to leave you with just an orange line. I’m going to fix it.”

I run the gun back up to just below his collarbone then down and back up again. Working silently for a couple of minutes, all I can hear is his rapid breathing. In the end, I’ve turned my error into a beautiful work of art over his left
pec, an orange star. I lift the gun. He trusted me to fix my fuck up and I should do the same for him. That’s how normal relationships work, right?

Sliding my hand down his body, I hover the gun over the V of his waist. His whole body tenses as if he’s anticipating another slip of the needle. Not going to happen. I just wanted to provoke that sexy-ass look in his eyes. Unsure, but blasting heat. Trusting.

I smirk at him and set the gun down, then lean down in between his legs. Warmth tingles in my nipples, sending pulses to my pussy. I move so that my breasts press against his bulge. They ache, and want friction, but tonight isn’t about me—it’s about him, making sure that he receives pleasure. I owe him for running out without giving him a chance to explain. I rub myself against him again.

He moves, abs flexing in time with desperate thrusts. He’s strong. Forgiving, and I’m the luckiest woman in the world right now.

I stand up, take off my gloves, and wipe the blood from his skin. Taking in the feel of his smooth, tan muscles, I apply the ointment softy, soothing the mistake I made.

He groans. "God, Shay. That feels so good."

I let my hands roam down his hips and lightly drag my fingers to his belt buckle. I need to do this, have to show him that I forgive him. As I undo it, the clink of metal echoes around my shop.

Morgan’s eyes lock on me and everything I’m doing. He pulls at his lip ring. His chest heaves. I tug on his belt loops. His hips lift and his bulge strains toward me. The urge to give him what he needs is too strong to deny. I pull down his jeans, but leave his briefs where they are. I run my fingers lightly over him and he grips the chair. Another groan escapes him.

His anticipation and excitement fuel my own. The slow burn of arousal heightens all of my senses. Slowly, I lick along his hips to his erection, then breathe a hot breath from his balls to the tip of him through the fabric.

His hands fly to my head, and his fingers lace through my hair. "Please." Air hisses through his teeth. "Suck me."

A jolt of lightening hits my pussy.

I’m in control.
Placing my mouth around him, I suck him through the fabric.

"Not... what..." His voice is breathy and deep. "I... meant."

I know
. And it makes this all the more exciting. He’s patient. He asks, never takes, even when he wants something so bad.

I run my hand up his thighs and under his briefs, lightly grazing his sack. Then bite down gently through the material. I love doing this, teasing him. Getting him so worked up that he can’t have a coherent thought. He tugs on my hair and thrusts.

That was the reaction I was waiting for. I sit up and strip him. His erection bobs in front of me, glistening. I lick from the balls up his shaft to the tip, then swirl my tongue around. Tasting him, I suck just the head.

"God, woman." His voice cracks. "Keep this up… not
gonna… fuck you."

And I don’t care. I want to do this. I want him to lose himself. Making him come would get me off in ways he doesn’t know about. I take him into my mouth and he falls back. On a groan, he fists my hair to make me go deeper. Then pulls out and thrusts back inside. His pace picks up and I can hear him panting.

I look up at him. His heat gaze locks onto my face.

Power buzzes through me, and I cup his balls, massaging him as I suck him up and down. I love what I’m doing to him. He’s out of control and I brought him here. Making him feel good gives me a high, one I’ve missed, but it’s so much better because it’s with him. I moan.

He stops thrusting. Every muscle in his body goes taut as warm jets hit the back of my throat. I suck harder and scrape my teeth a little up his shaft to the tip. Even though he has emptied himself inside me, I don't stop my assault. It isn't until he's limp and twitching beneath me that I pop him from my mouth.

"Shay…" He weakly tugs at my hair. Catching his breath, he frowns. "Shit, I’m sorry. I didn't get to—"

"It’s okay." And it is. My body vibrates. It’s stuck on an emotional high. I had the power to please him, and it’s one of the best fucking feelings in the world.

"No. It’s not. Give me–"

I climb up and straddle him. I take his face in my hands. "No. Listen to me. You just gave me something I've been missing. Something I needed. I forgive you, Morgan. And we have all night for you to fuck me."

 
Twenty-four

             
Two months later…

Shay

"Mom." Ben knocks on the bathroom door.

Never fails. There must be an alarm that goes off in his head. Mommy’s in the bathroom—time to bug her. I let the curling iron go. "I’ll be out in a sec."

"Morgan’s Hummer just pulled up!” His voice is filled with excitement. “I’m sure you look great. Hurry up."

I fluff, then spritz my hair. No carnival rides for me. I take a small turn in the body-length mirror, checking every angle to make sure I look okay. I’m meeting his brother for the first time and don’t want to look like a
trasher. The black spaghetti strap, baby-doll tank does nothing to make the bowling ball I’m carrying look small. Smoothing a hand over my acid-washed, jean maternity capris, I make a face. My ass looks like it gained five pounds. Maybe I should change.

At four months, I shouldn’t look like this, should I? I hate being huge. It’s May and I’m not due until September. Damn amniotic fluid makes me look like I’m carrying a baby giant. 

The door to my loft opens and I hear Morgan’s voice. Ben squeals. Dammit! I wanted to see Morgan give him the present. 

Quickly, I lick my teeth and check them in the mirror. No lipstick. Good. I spray my orange blossom perfume and check my body out one last time before I open the door and hit the bathroom light.

Ben and Morgan are bent over Ben’s present, a laptop, at my dining table. Morgan points to the screen. "And this app here will let you view my concerts. And that one," he points to another "is for Face Time."

Both of them are so into the laptop they don’t notice me until I approach. Morgan looks up and smiles. He goes to leave his chair, but Ben grabs his arm. "It says Xbox. Can I play games on this?"

Morgan plants his ass in the seat and looks at the screen. "Yeah, buddy. You can link up online just like you can with your Xbox." He looks up at me and winks. "I set a parental lock on it. Don’t worry."

I wasn’t worried. Morgan’s great with technology. The new website for my shop is proof of his technical skills. "What time do we have to pick up your brother and
Dani?"

He glances at the laptop again. "In about twenty minutes. We better go."

"Do we have to go right now?” Ben leans in closer to the screen. “I want to check this out." 

Morgan vacates his seat and wraps me in a hug. I breathe him in with a sigh. Mm…he smells so good. Musk and man. He kisses my forehead and turns to Ben. "Why don’t you pack it up? Bring it. You can play it later. You don’t want to miss all the fun rides, right?"

Ben sticks his tongue out the side of his mouth and glances at the ceiling. "Nope." He smiles and begins putting it away. “Are we spending the night at your house?”

“Yup, sorry ’bout last night, bud. Couldn’t get out of the studio.” Morgan picks up our duffel bags, turns to me, and smiles. "I’ll go load these." He kisses my cheek. "See you downstairs."

I close the door after him and bend down to grab my sandals. They’re Grecian and make my feet look phenomenal. I go to put them on but can't get my foot past the straps. Huh? I sit on the arm of my brown leather loveseat and struggle with them. When the hell did my feet get so wide? That type of crap doesn’t happen overnight, does it?

"What’s wrong, Mom?" Ben’s standing in front of me, the strap to his laptop case over his red Spiderman T-shirt.

"Shoes won’t fit."

Morgan

"You’re sexy as hell in kicks." Daring a peek at her, I see I shouldn’t have said anything. Her eyes are narrowed and they roll as she glances back to Ben. He’s whipping around on the Scrambler with his friend Max. Every couple of seconds his cart comes flying toward our spot near the gate. Wish I could have ridden it with him, but I didn’t want to leave Shay behind.

Logan was supposed to be here by now. We decided to meet up when I realized Shay needed a new set of kicks. It was either let her go barefoot or stop by the nearest shoe store. Guess she’s not an Adidas fan.
Maybe I shoulda bought her Chucks?

"Hey, girl." A woman with dreadlocks and skin as dark as midnight comes up to us. "Dang. Look at you. All big and shit."

’Cause that’s the right thing to say to a pregnant women.

Shay laughs. "Not as big as you got with Max."

Huh?

Shay hugs her and the two women turn to me. I feel like I’m a specimen under a microscope as the woman’s eyes roam me.

"Morgan, this is my friend Timikia. She’s Max’s mom. We used to be gym partners."

"Yeah. Until your bitch ass got knocked up." She pulls away and looks Shay up and down. "Woo... girl, you look fine as hell all pregnant and shit. Shit. But that
ain’t no excuse not to get your ass on a treadmill."

Shay blushes.

My woman doesn’t need a treadmill. This woman needs to shut her—

I hear Logan’s whistle. "
Yo, bro."

Looking over a couple of passersby’s heads, I see Logan heading our way with
Dani in tow.

"So you’re the
mutherfucka that got my girl pregnant." Timikia crosses her arms and a huge grin paints her face.

Is this woman for real?

She slaps my arm. "Just messin’ wit’ you. Really, she did good."

As if I need her approval.

"Timikia." Shay grabs her by the arm.

"It’s the truth. I can tell just by looking at him. If Gary was here he’d be all strung—"

"Next time we meet at the entrance." Logan stops beside me. His eyes roam over Shay and he cracks a smile. "You’re right, bro. She’s not a dog."

I smack him upside his head. "Dip-shit."

"Not a dog." Shay giggles and her eyes widen. "Wow! And you’re
not
an ass."

Timikia
cackles.

Logan’s eyes travel to
Timikia. "And who’s this ebony goddess?"

"Are you insinuating something?"
Timikia puts her hands on her hips.

Logan looks at me.

Fuck if I know. I thought Shay was blunt, but this chick is straight up rude.

She slaps Logan’s arm and laughs. "I’m just
playin’ wit’ you."

Shay laughs and it’s
kinda hard not to follow along. Okay, so Timikia’s not that bad. Actually, she's kinda quirky, and in a good way.

"Screamer!" Ben and Max come barreling out of the gate yelling.

I look up at the one ride I’ve been wanting to go on since we entered. Looking like gigantic upside-down hammers, they swing in opposite rotation about a hundred feet in the air. The screams from the people inside the carts mix with the excitement of the crowd watching. Ben and Max run to get in line, and Logan, Timikia, Shay, and I follow close behind. My body itches with adrenaline. Not going to ride though, because Shay can’t.

"Morgan!" Ben calls. "Hurry, you
gotta get in line."

I glance at Shay, hoping that she encourages me because I want to ride and don’t want to be an ass for leaving her behind. She smiles. "It’s okay. I’ll wait here with
Timikia."

"
Speak fo’ yo’-self." She jumps in line. "I’ve rode this six times already and it gets better every time."

"I can’t leave you by yourself." I watch a couple get behind
Timikia in line.

"I’m not defenseless, Morgan. I can wait here." She winks. "Go have fun. Besides, Ben wants you to go with him."

Yes. But I still feel bad about leaving her.

A hand comes down on my shoulder. "It’s okay, bro. I’ll wait here with your woman.” Logan waggles his eyebrows, and I sock him in the arm. "Just
sayin’ I want to get to know your girl."

Dani
ducks behind Shay. "I don’t want to go either. H-heights scare m-me." 

"How about we go play a carnival game?" Shay looks at Logan.

"Yeah, okay." He nods. "Which one?"

I watch as my brother and Shay talk about which games they are going to hit up then take my place in line. Ben and Max come running to the back.

Ben stops at my side. "I want to sit next to you."

Logan whistles and I look up. He mouths that he’ll be over by the goldfish game. I nod.

"This is the first year I’ll be able to ride this." Ben bounces. "So freaking cool."

"Yeah, I’ve been on eight times already," Max, the little boy with the cornrows, says. "Six with my mom and twice with Davon."

"Who’s Davon?" I don’t know any of Ben’s friends besides the little boy next to me.

"Oh, he’s my older brother." Max glances at
Timikia in the line a head of us. "And I don’t want to be in the cart with her again. I never heard her say so many Hail Mary’s. And her screaming kills my ears."

I look over at the goldfish game. Shay’s showing
Dani how to throw the Ping-Pong balls just right so they will make the fish bowls. I wonder if she’s a screamer. Do heights frighten her? I know so little about her.

I leave to go on a three-month tour the day after tomorrow. I don’t want to go. The last five months of her pregnancy have got to be the hardest. At least, that’s what I remember from when Jocelyn was pregnant with
Dani. She drove Logan nuts, and he loved every freaking second of it. Guilt slams into me. Maybe I should quit.

Get real. You need to do this for your kids.
Ben and my baby. Yeah, I consider Ben mine, and he’ll have everything I didn’t get growing up.

Shay

The floodlights of the makeshift parking lot illuminate all the cars, trucks, and SUVs. The ground is soft, and I’m now silently thanking Morgan for running into Foot Locker and buying them for me. Heels would've been an ankle-twister. As I’m thinking this, a woman in front of me falls.
Yup, shoulda left the heels at home, honey.

"And that’s why I bought you kicks." Morgan winks at me and squeezes my hand.

I laugh and nod.

Logan, Ben and
Dani walk ahead of us. Ben's asking Logan a ton of questions on what it’s like to be a younger brother. Logan doesn’t seem annoyed and hangs on his every word. I guess he wanted to give Morgan and me some alone time. Well, as much as we’re going to get with people leaving the carnival.

"Emily came on to me."

My head whips in Morgan’s direction along with the sting of whiplash. I wince at the sharp and now throbbing pain.

"I told her to back off or I was
gonna drop from the label."

Why in the hell does he feel like he needs to tell me this? I’m glad he’s honest with me. But damn, if nothing happened I would have just kept it to myself. And… drop out of the tour? "Morgan. You can’t. They’ll sue you."

"I know." He nods.

"Can’t you tell someone higher up? I mean, you’ve been waiting–"

He freezes. "Mother. Fucker!"

"Fucking assholes!" Logan shouts.

I snap my head in the direction Morgan is looking, wondering why everyone’s now swearing in front of the kids and—

Fucking
holy shit!

Morgan’s hummer is unrecognizable. If it weren’t for our clothes scattered across what’s left of the hood, I would’ve thought it was a totally different car.

Ben darts toward it. "My laptop!"

Leave it to a kid to think of his prized possession in a time like this.

How in the hell could this have happened? We parked way in the back, in a dark corner of the makeshift parking lot. But still, where was security? I thought they’d monitor the parking better. I glance back at the other cars under the floodlights. The rent-a-cops are flagging people, showing them which direction to go, and the real police are manning the traffic on the street. In all this chaos, I can see why they might’ve not seen. It must have just happened. I look back at the Hummer.

Circling it, I take in all the destruction. The tires are slashed and the windows are busted, but that’s mild in comparison to the damage done to the front end. It looks like someone took a sledgehammer to it. The bumper is hanging off and there's a big gaping hole in the radiator. The fluid leaks out, all over my underwear, lying on the ground. The only thing that’s intact is the front windshield with a yellow spray-painted message:
Shouldn’t have kicked me out.

Morgan’s chest heaves and his muscles bunch. He kicks the left fender and sends it flying.

"My precious." Ben clutches his laptop to him and kisses it.

"Well." Logan looks inside the interior. "Robbery wasn’t the motive here."

I look inside. Ketchup and mustard paint Morgan's leather interior. A pile of—the scent of shit and piss hits my nose. "Jesus." I cover my mouth and gag.

"Is Uncle
Morg okay?" Dani tugs on my shirt.