Wounded Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) (7 page)

BOOK: Wounded Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series)
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“He’s a pussy; you know that.”

I laughed, and he smiled a little.

“I cried too, babe; almost every night.”

His eyes watered, and I knew he was a man that was almost broken.

“You didn’t give up on me.”

“Never! We’re meant to be; I told you this.”

He kissed the side of my neck again and then whispered, “I know you, and I love you…Christina Makael Winters.”

“Jyme,” I panted loudly.

“I love you, Christina.”

“Oh God, Jyme. Please make love to me.”

“I love you Christina.”

“Now!” I demanded.

“Turn to the side,” he whispered in my ear, kissing and nibbling at it. I rolled to my side and he slid into me slowly, I gasped from the unfamiliar visitor. After about a dozen strokes, I pulled him closer to me.

“More?” he breathed, and he gave me a little more. He took his time with me, but his uneven breathing failed him. I could tell he wanted to ram into me hard, but he had full control of himself. He was the strongest man I had ever met.

“Yes,” I answered him through long strokes. He slid more of himself in me, and then we were ready. After a couple of more of my panting, “deeper” little sighs, Jyme turned me on my back and moved on top of me. Then he slid his Anaconda into Juicy, and she welcomed him warmly.

“Babe, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he whimpered in my ear.

“I missed you so much.”

“Can I go deeper?”

“You’re not all the way in?”

“No,” he said with a grin.

“You and your big, fuckin’ dick.”

“You love it.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

Jyme slid in me more, and I rose off the bed arching my back.

“Too much,” he asked, pulling out.

“No, put it back…put it back in!”

He slid it back in me. After three more orgasms for me, and two for him, we both collapsed on top of each other.

When I woke that morning, Jyme was still wrapped up in me. I kissed his lips, and he kissed me back. I started pulling away from him slowly.

“No, don’t go,” he argued, pulling me tighter to him.

“I have to pee.”

“Hold it!”

“Jyme!” I snapped.

He let me loose, but getting out of his limbs and those sheets was like making my way through a maze. That first pee after our sexcapade was crucial just like it had been the before. It burned and stung like a bitch. When I was done, I turned the shower on and slid in. The water was scalding hot, and it never felt so good. I got out and had nothing to put on. I went to the closet door in the bathroom; it was locked. I loved that the closet met up with the bathroom, but it being locked wasn’t helping me right now. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and then brushed my teeth and gargled. I took a deep breath, opened the bathroom door, and walked out like a champ. I made it to the closet door before he stirred.

“Damn, babe…did your ass get bigger? That’s some sexy shit if it did, and I just want to bite a chunk out of both cheeks.”

“You are so nasty.”

“Come here. Let me show you how nasty I can get,” he licked his lips.

“NO!” I laughed. I pulled one of his favorite white, cooking-breakfast-fantasy shirts out and swung it where he could see it dangling from the hanger.

“OH BABE, PLEASE!” he begged, putting both of his hands together like he was praying.

I slid it on and walked passed him. “You shower, and I will meet you in the kitchen in ten minutes. We’re going to get some food in us.”

“So we can fuck again; right?”

I nodded slowly, and he jumped out the bed, leaving a trail of sheets behind him.

Watching his chiseled, naked body gave me chills. I wish we had some body mud; I would cover him with it and just look at him. My very own mud God. I giggled and then picked up the sheets and stripped the rest of the bed. As I finished up the pancakes, eggs, and bacon, Jyme walked in wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants.

“Are we having a lazy day today?” I asked.

“Were not leaving the house for the rest of this week, and I don’t plan on leaving the bedroom that often either.”

I set his plate down in front of him and gave him a very over-the-top kiss; he played along and grabbed both of my ass cheeks.

“Yep, bigger and better,” he said, squeezing both cheeks hard.

“I’m going to go put fresh sheets on the bed.”

I kissed him again and went back upstairs.

Chapter 4

Secrets

A
fter I put the sheets on the bed, I turned to get the pillows off the floor and accidently knocked the brown folder on the floor. Everything scattered. I bent over to pick everything up and started looking through all the pictures. I hadn’t seen them all last night. There were baby pictures in there that Jyme did not get a chance to show me. One of the pictures had Chyna and me standing by a hospital bed with the woman who looked just like me holding a little baby. There was another one with me, Chyna and the little baby sitting on a couch.

I dropped the pictures and ravaged through the state documents. I found my mother and father’s birth certificates and then their death certificates again. Then I found another birth certificate. It said, Cecily Lauren Winters born November 21, 1983 in Nashville, Tennessee to the parents of Michael Christopher Winters and Lauren Michelle Winters at Nashville General Hospital at Meharry. I dropped the certificate and sat down on the bed as Jyme walked through the bedroom door. He saw my face and rushed to me; knelling on the floor.

“Cricket, what’s wrong?” he yelled.

“I had a little sister?” I said in a small voice.

“Babe,” he dropped his head in my lap.

I turned toward the window and looked at the boats in the water.

“I’ve been searching, babe. I can’t find anything on her, but I’m still looking. Cricket, I swear, I didn’t want to tell you until I had more information on her. I didn’t want to get your hopes up if I couldn’t find her.”

Jyme closed his eyes and took in a slow breath. He rubbed his hands down his face slowly. He dropped his head and then he reached for me. I let him take my hands into his.

“Cricket, I can’t bear to see you with anymore hurt in your eyes. I just couldn’t show you yet.”

I ran my fingers through his hair absentmindedly. He stood to his feet and then sat down on the bed next to me. He turned my face from the window to look at him.

“I swear to you if she’s out there, I will find her.”

I laid my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me. “I just found out about her four days ago, and I have a detective working on it.”

“Jyme?”

“Yes?”

“How did you get me out of the Casino?” I asked.

He was silent for a long moment. “I went to all of Mr. Paul’s Casino’s looking for you. I would stay a few weeks or so trying to get a feel of the place. I stayed under the radar. I never played any of the big games and I always stayed in the shadows. I was at your Casino a couple of months ago, but I never saw you anywhere. I couldn’t ask a lot of people because I didn’t want to give myself away. Then, a few days ago D’Artagnan called me ranting on about he had seen you and that I had to get my Indian thugs to go and get you. I hopped on a plane immediately.”

I pulled my fingers through his and sighed.

“What?”

“I saw you one night, but I thought I was hallucinating.”

“Where?”

“You were getting chips at the cash cage. You had on a black blazer with denim jeans and a hat.”

He sat up quickly and looked at me.

“That was me,” I smiled at him, and he kissed me slowly. “Jyme…”

“I’m on it,” he whispered.

He slid two fingers into Juicy, and my head fell back. We made love for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon.

His cell phone kept ringing, but he wouldn’t answer it. Then the doorbell started chiming and there was beating at the front door. Jyme slid out of me; pissed as fuck. He yanked the condom off and pulled on his pajama pants. I laughed so hard at the look on his face.

“Don’t you fuckin’ move; we’re not done.”

I nodded, sucking my lips in and trying not to burst out in laughter.

He stomped down the stairs, and I heard Mrs. JJ yelling at him. They spoke in their secret language, and then she was laughing. I smiled, got up, and went to the bathroom. I turned the water on and stepped into the shower. Jyme joined me soon after; he was hot and ready to finish what we had to cut off in bed. I knew he need to release himself and if he couldn’t, he would be cranky for the rest of the evening. I kneeled down, and he protested.

“No, Cricket…I want you.”

“Jyme, we’re not having full blown sex while your mother’s in the house.”

“Why not? She can’t hear us up here.”

From what I knew of Mrs. JJ, I really didn’t think she would care; she encouraged her children to be free and have lots of sex. She’d probably watch if she could. I erased that thought immediately from my head.

“NO,” I growled at him. He looked pissed as hell at me. “This will be quicker, and then we can shower faster.”

He grunted then nodded down at me. I put him in my mouth. I did all of my so-called magic tricks, and he lasted about two minutes before he shot everything he had into my mouth. He moaned and thrashed, and I wasn’t sure Mrs. JJ couldn’t hear him the way he was carrying on.

“FUCK, CRICKET!” he whined loudly.

He was still jerking from his meeting with God. I poured soap on the washcloth and started scrubbing his chest and back. I scrubbed his arms and legs. I didn’t touch his delicate areas because he wasn’t full himself yet, and I knew he was sensitive right now. I finished my shower and handed him a fresh washcloth so he could finish his. He still looked a little disheveled, but he started washing himself and I shut the shower door. I walked out to the bedroom and entered the closet and slid on a pair of skinny jeans and a cream cashmere sweater. I walked over to closet door that entered into the bathroom. I unlocked it and I heard some mumbling. I cracked the door a little and heard Jyme softly humming Mumford and Sons, White Blank Page. My heart ached and I felt ping deep down inside of juicy. I was bare foot and I planned on staying that way today.

I went downstairs and saw Mrs. JJ sliding casseroles into the oven and Patty cutting potatoes. I hugged and kissed them both, and then someone walked out of the downstairs bathroom. It was Big Samson, and he didn’t look like himself. He had a fresh shave, and his hair was pulled back neatly. He wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with denim jeans and cowboy boots. I saw he was carrying a cowboy hat. He walked over to me and kissed me on my cheek. I didn’t smell any alcohol on him at all. I hugged him and kissed him back. We said nothing to each other, but we still communicated well.

I sat him down in the living room with the remote, and he started flipping through the channels. I met Jyme in the foyer; loudly, he pulled me into a kiss. I laughed at him, and he stared at me.

“What is it?” I asked with a smile.

“That mouth of yours is fuckin’ amazing.”

“Thank you,” I smiled back at him.

“I’m still tingling.”

“I have a trick that will make you lose consciousness.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a secret,” I whispered in his ear. The doorbell rang, and I turned toward the door. He growled.

I laughed and looked through the peephole. I swung the door open wide and Chelle and her kids and Ayashe and her kids, Kanoke, Sheen, and Loon all burst through the door. Everybody was holding some kind of dish of some sort. We all hugged and kissed as they walked in.

Jyme went out to the garage and pulled out three different gaming systems with a bag full of games, all still in the plastic. All the kids, Kanoke, and Loon followed Jyme upstairs to the guest bedroom with the big flat screen in it. All the women were in the kitchen cooking and drinking wine. I made a salad because no one would let me do anything else.

When everything was made, the adults ate in the dining room, and the kids ate in the kitchen. We laughed and talked, and even Poppa Samson—that’s what he told me to call him—finally looked comfortable. We all ended up in the backyard on the beach. Jyme had a volleyball net, a ping pong table, and flags for flag football. Apparently, he bought all this stuff just after he bought the house, just in case. Everyone was having a blast in the back of the house. I caught Chelle coming out of the bathroom when I went inside to refresh my drink.

“Hey,” I said.

She looked at me wearily, “Hey.”

I stared out the window and she came to stand beside me. “You remember way back in the day, when we made that pact? Remember we said if one of us needed something so desperately, but couldn’t tell the other what it was…remember we said there would be no questions asked?” I asked.

“Yes.”

BOOK: Wounded Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series)
3.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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