7. Yolani

SOME DAYS LATER…

As I strutted across the stage during rehearsal, the door to the theater room opened, and I was shocked that I was hoping to see Cemone. He was out of town, however, playing tonight, so I should've known better, but that wasn't even the problem. It was the fact that I was wanting it to be him.

This little cat and mouse game to make him pay for the way he'd done women in the past and to humble him had flipped on its head because now I was a little invested. Though it wasn't much, it was still something, and that was bad for someone like me, hard on the outside but jelly on the inner.

When I fell for someone, I fell hard, and after my last relationship three years ago, I vowed not to fall or even entertain a man who didn't check all my boxes, and especially not a man like Cemone Compton. His track record was right there in plain sight, and it would make no sense for any woman to take him seriously and not get hurt. I had no one to blame for starting to crush on him but myself, because I allowed him to get to me with all his rude ass comments, making me decide to challenge and boss up on him when I should've ignored it. Because now here I was starting to feel him.

Even worse, I recognized that familiar sinking in my stomach when I overheard security discussing having to take one of the three women away from his box suite at my show. If I felt that way while I had a simple crush, I could only imagine the damage he'd do once I fully liked him, was dating him, and had given him my body. I didn't have time for it.

"Hey, can we talk after the song is over?" My PR agent Kim gave me a tight smile, the one she only gave when there was serious business to discuss.

I kind of had an idea already about what she wanted to speak on because she didn't look happy, and I hadn't had to deal with an unhappy Kim in years. My image was pretty clean, and the only thing that could possibly start staining it was that photo someone snapped of Cemone and I leaving the movies.

I finished the song and then told my dancers that we could break for fifteen minutes, making my way to sit in the balcony area with Kim who'd ordered a drink. She was the only woman I knew who drank dark liquor straight and void of ice. Kim was surely a lesbian, but I had no proof. She just gave me the vibes.

"Okay, what's up? It must be serious if you showed up here." I smiled, taking a seat across from her and shaking my head at the lone waiter who lifted his brows to see if I wanted anything.

She took a sip, tucking her lips in at the taste as she stared at her glass, before lifting her eyes to me, interlocking her fingers atop the table.

"Yolani, what are you doing?"

"Rehearsing."

She cocked her head, then said, "I mean trying to date Cemone Compton. You couldn't have picked a worse person, if I'm to be honest."

Why did that bother me? I hated Cemone, too… or used to, so someone talking about him should have been fine for me. But it wasn't. It made me want to be rude to Kim, which I'd never done before, because I never had reason to.

"He's actually not." I drank from my Owala bottle. "You've never met him, though, so I don't expect you to know that."

"Even if I loved the nigga, Yolani, the masses doesn't, and for good reason. So, what do you think will happen when people see you choosing to disregard their feelings and hang with him or, worse, date him?"

"I'm sure people will talk, but I can't let the public dictate my life. Either they like my music or they don't." I shrugged, and Kim blinked so many times out of shock I thought she was having a stroke.

"Excuse me? As long as you have been in this industry, and you honestly believe that's the kind of attitude you can have? Yolani," she scoffed, "you know they only like your music as much as they like you, which they won't if you continue to support and get behind a man like Cemone. Being around him says that you approve of his violent personality and behavior, plus him being an absent father."

"That stuff isn't true," I half lied.

Cemone was clearly temperamental, but that wasn't all the time. He wasn't some barbaric ass nigga who went around knocking shit over and punching people for no reason like the media painted him. As far as him being an absent father, that didn't seem to be true either. Every time we talked, he usually had his children; however, I didn't know Solene or Ananda to assess if they were truly lying on him or not. He could've been telling me anything. My gut said he wasn't though.

"It doesn't matter if it's true!" Kim banged on the table. "I don't give a damn if the rumor was that he's satan himself! The important piece here is that people don't like him, and if you continue to spend time with him, people will not like you either. And if people don't like you, sales will be low, concert ticket sales will drop, and, eventually, you will be doing ensemble shows in tiny venues around the US instead of headlining your own shit worldwide. Is that what you want, Yolani? Just so you can have fun with one handsome man who, in my opinion, is gonna do you worse than the last few."

"Kim—"

"Look." She put her phone on the table, pulled up some posts on social media, and turned it my way, scrolling slowly enough so I could get the gist. I saw the consensus was that if I was found to be truly dating Cemone, fans would stop supporting me. "And that's just this one application. Your matcha company has been getting emails stating that they love the drink but will stop buying if you are dating Cemone. Halo Makeup? They've gotten emails saying the same, that if you are with him, you need to be replaced as an ambassador, or they will boycott them. Fan email is saying the same," Kim ranted, beating it into my head, and for the first time in a while, I felt conflicted.

I always said I would never be one of those celebrities who let fans and the media control what I did, but this was hard shit to deal with. It was bleeding into my livelihood, the money I used to retire my mother, take care of my grandparents from both sides, and make sure my baby sister went to the best school Los Angeles had to offer. I'd also planned to pay her college tuition in full.

Sure, I was very rich, and it would take a very long time and careless spending for me to go broke, but still. It was about more than just the money. From the time I was four years old and found out I could belt a tune, I'd wanted to be a singer and losing it all because of a man that I couldn't confidently give my heart to without worry didn't seem smart.

It was one thing to risk it all for a love you knew was real, but this wasn't even love. This was a crush, and on a man more emotionally unavailable and unstable than a three-legged table.

"Fuck." I groaned finally.

Sighing and putting her phone back into the pocket of her leather jacket, Kim said, "I am not trying to tell you who to be around, because I get you need your life outside of this, but unfortunately, Yolani, you are a big star with a lot of fans and a lot of business dealings, so you have a lot to lose.

"You don't have to cut him off completely, but the public outings and stuff cannot happen. Whatever you do with Cemone, keep it private. You wanna have dinner with him, show up separately. You wanna go to his home, use a driver, but not Ronnie and so on. Be discreet."

"I can do that."

Kim changed the subject, thankfully, once I agreed to take her advice and then left once she was done telling me how she planned to explain the situation with Cemone and me if the outrage got too bad. For now, though, we'd ignore it.

A few hours later, I was done with rehearsal and couldn't wait to get home so I could shower, relax, and escape into a book or TV show. My conversation with Kim was still on my mind, and I didn't know how to feel.

It didn't seem right to make Cemone some dirty little secret, but it also wasn't smart to blatantly piss my fanbase off for something that wasn't even set in stone.

As soon as I was showered, had brushed, flossed, and rinsed with mouthwash, and was in my big bed my phone pinged. I opened it to see Cemone had texted me.

CC: almost fucking time.

He'd attached a photo of him getting blood drawn for what I assume was the STD test I'd requested.

Me: Better hope it's clean.

CC: I don't need to hope for shit.

I chuckled before leaving the thread and going into the one with my assistant, Nelly.

Me: he's getting the test. Wtf. Lol.

Nelly: I mean if he is doing all this just to get some ass, he kind of deserves it.

Me: right?

Nelly: this is Mr. One Night Stand, so I doubt he's even given a bitch a glass of water after he came let alone got tested for her.

I called her instead of texting, and when she picked up, I blurted, "I just sent you a photo of the diamonds he got me."

"Aww, damn. I know you said you didn't like when he did that. My boy lost points."

"Well… no, this time I liked it. This time it meant something. He wasn't just throwing shit at me to get me to open my legs like before. This stuff was custom, and he gave it to me himself." I got quiet. "No man has ever felt the need to treat me like this," I admitted, embarrassingly.

Most men knew I was rich and therefore didn't feel the need to go all out, because why when I could buy it myself and wouldn't be impressed by it? And for a while, I believed that, too, until I met Cemone. It was nice for a man to do extra nice expensive shit for you, not caring that you could do it yourself. He'd even said as much. I almost gave him some right then but, thankfully, held it together. I hadn't taken the diamonds off since though, telling people who noticed I'd gifted it to myself for a sold-out tour.

"Girl, are you serious?"

"I am. I mean, men have bought me things, but it has never been stuff like this because they always said I probably had it, or they knew it wouldn't do anything for me. I like the small stuff, too, but?—"

"Sometimes it's fun to let a nigga blow money on you?"

"Yes! This is why we're close." I laughed, falling onto my silk covered pillow.

As Nelly and I chatted, my phone beeped, making me pull it from my face to see that my security cameras had been triggered.

"I think you need to just bust it open for?—"

"Hold on, let me call you back." I cut into her giving me the same advice she'd been offering ever since I met Cemone.

Looking over my recorded camera footage, I saw the person attempting to get through my gate was Avery's long-suffering girlfriend, Tilsa.

The bitch was crazy, for lack of a better word, and had it in her mind that I was in love with Avery. And no, she didn't think he returned my affections. She just felt as if I wanted him and contacted him regularly because of it. She didn't take into account that the nigga worked for me, and we needed to converse, especially during times like now where I was touring since he was my booking agent and handled all venues.

Getting up out of my bed, I glided my feet into my UGG slippers and made my way down, using the intercom button to tell Tilsa she could stop trying and failing to sneak into my home because I was on the way.

She started going off about something, but because I'd left the app, I couldn't hear shit she was saying, thank God.

I hit the button for my gates to open and texted my night security guard that it was just Tilsa but to be sure that she was alone. Like I said, Tilsa was crazy and delusional, so I wouldn't put it past her to show up to my home on some bull.

Opening my front door, I saw her hiking up, fuming and fussing under her breath until she reached me.

"Damn! Why is it so hard to get through that fucking gate?" she asked dumbly, entering my home.

"Tilsa, why the fuck are you here?" I shut the door, frowning.

"Avery! I know he's here."

"He's actually not," I informed her, blocking her path as she tried to venture further into my home.

"You are a fucking liar! That nigga told me he was coming over here hours ago, to drop off your bag that you left at rehearsal, and stopped answering his phone." She tilted her head back to project her voice. "You can come out of hiding, negro!"

I shook my head, annoyed with Avery for using me as his alibi. He cheated on Tilsa all the time. It wasn't something he did relentlessly, but he acted as if he was single, especially when he came out of town with me.

Avery wasn't thirsty or promiscuous, so he didn't fuck anything with legs, but when he ran across a woman that intrigued him, he had no reservations about exploring her. Most likely, that was what he was doing tonight, throwing me in the mix because he knew I would always have his back.

I was a girl's girl through and through, and typically wouldn't allow a man, brother or not, to play with a woman, but I couldn't stand Tilsa. She couldn't stand me either and had acted out at several events, shouting insults and crazy ass rumors that I didn't need spreading. Therefore, I couldn't care less about Avery lying to her.

Not to mention, Ray Charles would be able to see she was using Avery to catch a bigger fish. She knew he was well connected due to working for me all these years and would have a literal fit if he didn't invite her somewhere that was known to be packed out with famous men. And I'm not talking about her catching a simple attitude either. The bitch would throw things, break shit, and take off on him upon learning that she'd missed out.

"He is not here anymore, Tilsa."

"Let me look around then." She palmed her hip, light skin flushed due to how much anger was building up within.

"No. You're either gonna have to take my word for it or find a man that doesn't ignore you for hours and think it's cool."

She ran her tongue over her front teeth, sucking them with a roll of her eyes and a scoff.

"I know you want him, Lani, but what you have to understand is that nigga loves my dirty drawers."

"And I'm sure they're quite filthy. But no, sweetie, I don't want him. Now get the fuck out of my house before I have you thrown out." I yanked the front door open.

Throwing her hand up as to say girl bye, Tilsa switched out angrily. I slammed the door, jogging up my stairs and immediately calling on Avery.

"What's good?" he asked, and I could hear some light R it was obvious. It was so strikingly obvious that he was because these bitches went from rocking Fashion Nova in seemingly every post to Chanel, Dior, Givenchy, Gucci, and even a few Van Cleef pieces. At least it was clear he was helping monetarily, which Solene claimed he wasn't. People were dumb to believe this when it was clear her whole life got a facelift after having Cemone's baby. I guess he was right when he said people would choose to believe the negative, even when proof of the opposite was right there.

Tossing my phone to the side, I got comfortable before grabbing my phone again.

Me: Goodnight and thank you for taking the test.

As I waited for him to reply, I drifted off, thinking of him like I always did as of late.

" T his is so cute!" Yailey jumped up and down in the mirror, so excited that I'd bought and helped her put press-on nails on.

"I know, but remember we have to take them off before Daddy gets home, or he will have a heart attack." I put everything away, making sure we left no evidence.

"Okay, right." She nodded, face serious. We burst into childish giggles afterward.

My phone rang as Yailey and I tidied up, and I saw it was Cemone. I thought for a moment, then decided to answer.

"Hey." I felt my cheeks rise.

"What's good? You busy? I wanna see you, and I got them results for you, so you know what that shit mean."

"I do." I half smiled, anxious about kissing him. "But I can't see you today; I'm with my little sister before I leave town again to perform."

"It's about time I meet my sister-in-law."

"Cemone."

"I'm serious. I wanna meet her. How old is she again? Nine?"

"Um, yeah." I nodded, shocked he remembered. "If you come, that means it'll be the three of us."

"I know that, Yolani. What kind of nigga you think I am? You at home?"

"No, at my parents. I will text the address."

"Aight. Hurry up. I'm already driving."

Smiling, even though I shouldn't be, I texted him the address. My parents would be gone a while since they were all the way in Orange County, having dinner with their college friends. They wouldn't return until late, and surely Cemone wouldn't be with us that long.

I continued hanging out with Yailey for about half an hour before Cemone buzzed the gate of my parents' home. I let him in, then stood up when he got to the door, ringing the bell.

"Who is that?" Yailey asked, following me from her bedroom and into the living area.

"A friend. Wanna meet him?"

"Yes." She nodded enthusiastically.

I opened the door for Cemone, and like always, I was taken aback by how fine he was. Only he seemed to get better looking the more I saw him, and I knew what that meant: I was liking him more every time I saw him.

His hair was cut nicely like always, right along with his mid-length beard. Today, he wore a Prada long sleeve and jeans, along with some Chuck Taylor style Dior sneakers. An Audemar Piguet decorated his wrist, and two iced-out necklaces along with a navy blue Van Cleef one hung around his tatted neck.

"Cemone Compton?" Yailey's eyes widened.

"How do you know him?" I asked as he laughed, stepping inside and leaning down to kiss me… on the cheek. Hmm.

"Kyle at school is obsessed with him and thinks he's gonna be just like him," she explained.

"Kyle sounds like a good dude." Cemone grinned.

He was so handsome I couldn't take it, and judging by the way my little sister had stars in her little eyes as she peered up at his towering frame told me she thought the same thing.

"He's not! I hate him! He's mean and always tugs my ponytail!"

Cemone and I chuckled.

"That means cuz like you. Next time he tug ya ponytail, though, you slap his ass across the face, let him know he gotta come at you correct. Right?" He looked to me, using my words.

"Right." I nodded. "Don't curse though, Yailey."

"Okay, I won't. Umm, you wanna help me paint my press-ons, Cemone?"

"I was hoping we could go to Calligans, but if you wanna fu—go with the press-ons we can."

"Calligans! Let me get my purse and shoes!" Yailey darted off.

"We do not have to go anywhere. Plus, it's gonna be packed with people." I got nervous, thinking of my conversations with Kim and Avery.

Had I known he'd want to go out, I wouldn't have agreed to see him.

"It won't. I made arrangements on the way over." He fixed my necklace for me as we waited on Yailey.

"Okay." I nodded, feeling at ease again as I swam in his beautiful eyes.

"You should put some shoes on and shit though." He nodded down to my bare feet.

"Oh, right." I went to put on my sandals to go along with my dress that was cut out along the sides. Cemone didn't fail to grip a handful of my ass as soon as I turned my back.

Yailey and I returned together as Cemone led us to his Rolls Royce Cullinan, securing us inside. Once he joined us, we were on our way to Calligans, an arcade that also had bumper cars and mini golf in the back. I hadn't been there since I was a teenager, so I was excited to go, especially knowing we'd have the place to ourselves.

Like he promised, no one was there but the workers who signed NDAs right in front of us. After that, we got right to playing the different games. Yailey had a little crush on Cemone, though, hogging all his attention, and I let her because I thought it was cute.

After watching them play for a while, we decided to have some food.

"Thank you, Cemone. This was so fun! My sister never likes going anywhere," Yailey talked, mouth full of food.

"Not true. I just don't like dealing with paparazzi and crazy people." I defended myself as Cemone chuckled.

"You welcome, baby." He spoke through snickers, and she blushed.

"So you just walk around with NDAs?" I asked.

"Nah. I make sure to bring them when I go certain places." He picked the pineapple off his pizza. I didn't realize he didn't like it that way and only got it because that was what my sister and I wanted. "I saw how that muthafucka taking our picture at the movies bothered you, so I wanted to make sure that shit didn't happen today."

He talked so nonchalantly, not realizing that what he'd done meant a lot to me. It wasn't that I had decided to hide Cemone and our budding friendship or whatever it was, but I was conflicted on how to move. So today gave me the opportunity to take a breather without looking over my shoulder constantly.

Little did he know, even if he didn't come with his STD results today, I would have kissed him.

We finished our meal, and then the three of us decided to ride the bumper cars to end the night. After, we stopped at Target, Yailey's suggestion, where Cemone let her get whatever toys she wanted. He had the idea that he would go in and video call to let her shop since he didn't have time to clear the store out and prevent people from bothering us… me.

All the little things he was doing had my little bud below buzzing.

Once he had all the dolls and electronics Yailey wanted, he checked out, then returned to the car.

"You busted a nigga's head for real." He placed the bags in the back seat to an ecstatic Yailey. He looked at me, laughing at the receipt, and it was only then I realized I was staring him down in awe. I chuckled in return to play it off.

"Thank you! Oh my gosh!" Yailey screeched. "Wait, I didn't ask for these." She held out two little toddler style GameBoys.

"Those are for my kids. They love shit like that." He took it and kept it separate from Yailey's things.

Deadbeat dads didn't think about their kids when they were away from them. It was out of sight, out of mind. So Cemone's actions were telling, especially in conjunction with my own investigation on social media.

I didn't say much on the way home, neither did Cemone, us both sniggering here and there at how happy Yailey was with all her stuff. I was too deep in my thoughts about Cemone and how it was obvious that I was starting to like him and a lot. I was at the jealous point now, where if I even saw him looking at another girl too long, I would be bothered. That wasn't good for someone trying to keep him at bay. The more I tried to eradicate the feelings I had for him, the stronger they grew it seemed. The universe clearly hated me.

When we got home, Yailey immediately started opening her things in the middle of the den as Cemone and I sat on the couch. We could barely converse because, again, Yailey wanted all his attention on her, and he proudly gave it. However, he was able to at least show me his clean bill of health.

"Baby girl—" My father's words halted as he stepped down into the den with my mother, eyes falling right on Cemone.

"Oh, Cemone, this is my dad, Darrell Ian. Dad, you know Cemone." I rose, and Cemone did the same.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Ian." Cemone stuck his hand out to shake my father's, who only looked at it for a second. Cemone smirked out of annoyance before turning his attention to my mom. "You too, Mrs. Ian."

"Nice to meet you, Cemone." My mother grinned, elbowing her husband as she slipped her hand into Cemone's.

"Daddy, come on now." I frowned.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm just shocked you got this nigga in my house after I explicitly told you I didn't like his ass."

"You never told me that!" I barked, pissed off that he would even say that in front of Cemone, especially when he never said that, only that he didn't want me with him, which was two different things. "He's not leaving."

"This is my damn house!" my father argued, pointing downward. "And I said the nigga gotta go!"

"I—"

"Aye, it's cool. I'm gon' go because it's his home." Cemone kissed my temple, but I couldn't too much focus on his words because I wanted to pounce on my dad. Turning his attention to my father, he said, "I understand we under yo' roof, dog, but next time you come hollering at me, I'm gon' cave yo' fucking chest in." He slipped past my dad who thought better of saying anything back. He of all people knew how Cemone could get.

"Baby—" My father tried to grab my arm, speaking with a much softer tone, but I moved from his reach, slipping around him and my mother, the latter starting to light into her husband for being an asshole.

I caught up to Cemone right outside the door, his long ass legs covering plenty of ground in a little amount of time.

"Don't leave yet." I grabbed his hand. He turned to me slightly, a sexy smile on his face. I loved how easygoing he was when it came to me. Most niggas would've had an attitude right now, and though they would have had every reason to, I liked that Cemone didn't. "I'm sorry about that."

"He not the first father to have that reaction to me." He allowed me to hug his torso. I wanted my kiss, so he couldn't go yet.

"I'm sure." I giggled. "Let's go to the guest house." I tugged him toward the backyard gate, and he followed without protest.

We entered on the side, crossing the large backyard equipped with a pool and jacuzzi, before making it to the decked-out guest house that was actually a two-bedroom home.

I kept the lights low, guiding Cemone to the couch area, and sitting very close to him. He smelled so good, wearing a cologne that let you know he was a nigga getting to the money as soon as you smelled it. Cologne like that wasn't in a broke nigga's budget.

"This shit is nice." He eyed it.

"I know. They just had it renovated." I surveyed it a bit, too, picking up the remote to the fireplace and using it to turn it on so we could have some heat. "So, when was the last time you got thrown out by a dad?" I looked up into his face.

Smirking, he replied, "I was still in high school. Niggas now ain't crazy enough to attempt such a thing. Only reason yo' pops did is 'cause he a man, and he can sense I don't wanna upset you. Therefore, I wasn't gon' knock his ass out."

I nodded, wondering if that was true. My father wasn't exactly soft, but he was more of the type to wanna talk things out and usually would never approach someone with Cemone's reputation in such a brash way. So maybe Cemone was speaking facts.

"You did good with Yailey today. I can tell you're used to being around kids."

"Got a lot of nephews and a couple nieces, so definitely. But also, like I been telling you, I take care of my kids and actually spend time with their bad asses."

I giggled.

"I already knew that. I did my own research and was able to come upon some interesting findings." I thought back to it. "I don't get why you let yourself be painted in such a horrible way when it's a lie. Those lies affect you."

"Never been the type of nigga to give a fuck what people thought of me." He shrugged, then stared down into my eyes, his own eyes bright and lips so supple. "Correction, I never gave a fuck about what someone thought of a nigga until you."

"Well, I think that you shouldn't let people say you're a horrible person who neglects his kids when that isn't true."

Nodding, he stroked his beard for a moment like he was thinking, his other arm thrown behind the couch.

"For you, I will give a little bit more of a fuck about what people think of a nigga."

"I don't want you to change. I just don't like people thinking you're a bad person when you're not. It bothers me for some reason."

"For some reason, huh?" He snickered softly. "Sounds like you got feelings for me."

"I do, even though I don't want to, and I shouldn't have them." I sighed deeply, in disbelief that what started as a game to mess with him had come to this. That was what my ass got.

After a while, he said, "I know what you used to, Yolani, but I'm a whole different type of nigga. I ain't never played the part for pussy; it's too readily available for me. Nor have I ever in life let the words marriage, wife, faithful, boyfriend, none of that shit slip from my lips, because it never crossed my fucking mind.

"I don't know if it's because you humbled the fuck out of me, be making me work for shit, or if it's how you dissed a nigga in the club that night, but ever since, a nigga been low-key obsessed with you." His eye contact was steady as he spoke.

Covering my face out of shame and to get a break from staring at his fine ass, I responded, "Why do I believe your ass?"

"It's true, love, that's why."

"Why do you like me so much?"

"The obvious shit is that you beautiful as fuck, I love your voice, I admire your ambition, the way you work and how meticulous you are with that shit like I am. You smart, feisty, you ain't gon' let nobody play with you, just like me. I ain't gotta worry about whether you fucking with me because I'm a rich NBA player, because you got yo' own shit, and you clearly more famous and well loved than I am." He half smiled, and I nodded, tossing my hair back playfully. "You cocky but the good kind. You only show the shit when niggas try to pull ya card like I attempted to. That's some shit I need to learn, 'cause I'm cocky, even when niggas don't ask for it."

"You definitely are." I smiled.

"Most importantly, though, I feel like I can be a normal nigga with you. I don't have to be Cemone Compton, the confident, cocky ball player that says everything right. I feel regular, and that may sound bad, but it's actually the opposite."

"It doesn't sound bad because I feel the same. You make me feel like a normal woman. When you bought me the jewelry, especially. Niggas act like because of who I am, I can't be impressed or that I don't want a man to do things for me."

Pulling me closer against him, he kissed me slowly, parting our lips at the perfect time to kiss even deeper. To be such a roughneck, he was gentle, knowing exactly when to kiss me hungrily and when to slow it up. Carefully, he brought me into his lap so that I was straddling him, just as I began to suck on his tongue. He tasted as good as he looked and smelled, and the way his strong arms hugged me tightly against his hard chest drove me insane.

As we kissed passionately, seemingly trying to mesh our faces into one, his hands grabbed at my ass, taking nice handfuls. His mouth drifted to my jaw and then to my neck, sucking just enough to make me dampen the seat of my thong.

"Let me taste it," he spoke against my ear, and it took everything for me not to say ‘okay' as I ran my hands up his strong arms.

I knew if I let him do that, I would let him fuck me, and I wasn't ready. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck Cemone in the heat of the moment and wake up regretting it, because then I wouldn't want anything to do with him. And it wouldn't even be his fault.

"Not yet." I tried to get out of his lap, but he stopped me, kissing me a few more times, deeply, before allowing me to go free.

I stood up, not wanting to sit down because my underwear was soaked.

"When can I see you next?" he asked, taking my hand in his, still seated. "I already miss yo' ass." He brought me closer so that I was standing between his legs, getting a close up of God's work.

I felt like other men were sculpted by God's assistants, but Cemone was done by the man upstairs Himself.

"I don't know. I have a few more shows, and then after my last one, I have to go to Mississippi for a bit."

"Why?" He frowned.

"I go every summer to spend time with and help my grandparents out."

Glancing off then back up at me, his hands on my waist, he replied, "I ain't never been on a woman's schedule before. It's usually the other way around if they make it past one night, which ain't been the case in years. But I'll be free, too, so I can come to Mississippi."

Laughing, I raised a brow. "Yeah right. The town is very small, and the most exciting thing is going fishing, eating at the local Waffle House, or moseying around Walmart for a few hours."

"I love to fish. Yo' grandpa be fishing?"

I was surprised to hear that.

"You're serious? You fish?" I felt my forehead crease.

"Yeah. I used to do the shit all the time with my stepdad and brothers. He would drive us out to the cabin, and that's the only way we'd be able to eat and shit."

"You really are like an onion."

"I been making bitches cry all my life so." He shrugged, then laughed when I rolled my eyes at him.

He stood up, dwarfing me and even the statue in the corner. Gripping my waist, he brought me in and kissed me, massaging my ass in the process. Running his hand down past my dress, he felt between my legs, and I jumped, embarrassed that he could feel the dampness.

"Cemone!" I nudged him.

"Let me get them."

"No!" I laughed.

"A kiss then."

"Fine." I stepped closer, but he sat down, hiking my dress up some and shifting the lace fabric of my panties to the side.

"Oh my God." He eyed it for a second, then lowered slightly to press an orgasm worthy kiss to my lower lips. The sensation sent a tingle throughout me, making me want to accept his earlier offer. "I knew that shit was pretty."

"Shut up." I giggled as we headed toward the door of the guest house.

As we walked to his car, hand in hand, he asked, "You ain't entertaining other niggas, right?"

"No. I wasn't planning on entertaining you, but it happened. I have niggas trying every day, but no, I haven't entertained anyone for three years. I've just been focused." I watched him. "Have you? Meaning have you had sex since your pursuit of me?"

"I can't remember," he lied.

"Cemone."

Turning to face me as we got to his truck, he shrugged. "We friends, according to yo' ass, and I got needs, Yolani."

"So until I fuck you, you're gonna be sleeping around. Yeah, if you think that's gonna make me fold, you need to rethink your damn plan." I folded my arms.

Calmly and undisturbed by my attitude, he replied, "Nah, I'm saying that until you can assure me that all the shit I'm doing and investing in you is working, I'm gon' do me."

Nodding but trying to hide my irritation, I unfolded then folded my arms as he leaned against the truck. "So what will happen to those needs if you were my man and we were states apart, which is gonna happen?"

"Get one off in the shower or come get you. It's not the same, love." He shrugged. "Me being with you and having needs ain't the same as me having them muthafuckas and not knowing where we stand."

"I don't know that to be true, but whatever. I don't even know why you asked me if I was entertaining someone when you're out here fucking." I laughed, realizing he was exactly who I knew he was.

"Because I want you, and I've made that shit clear, Yolani. You, on the other hand, not so much until lately."

"Well—"

"You fuck another nigga while I'm on you like I am, I'm gon' be hot, and we gon' have a muthafuckin' problem. It's that simple, love. Ain't no discussion needed. I'm telling you what it's gon' be." Interlocking our fingers, he said in a much gentler tone, "If I could only fuck you for the rest of my life, I would." He wrapped his arms around my body and kissed my lips. "Tell me when I can do that shit, aight?" We kissed again, going from pecks to passion quickly. We ended it off with a couple more thrusts of our lips before he said, "I won't ever get tired of that shit."

"Me either." I half smiled, still feeling like I would be sick at the thought of him getting off the phone with me to fuck somebody else. Sadly though, I understood his angle.

"You ain't been fucked in three years; that little pussy ain't gon' know what hit it once I get ahold to the shit. Gon' fuck around and need an oil change from all them miles I'm about to put on that shit."

We guffawed in unison.

"Good night, nigga." I shoved him playfully.

He caught my arm, yanking me to him and kissing me about fifteen times before letting me go.

He watched until I was in the house, door cracked and peeking out with a grin on my face, before he finally climbed into his car and pulled out of the iron gate.

Lord.

"Yolani." My father calling my name made me jump.

"Don't worry. After I say goodbye to Yailey and Mama, I'm leaving too." I tried to bypass him, but he gripped my arm softly.

"Sweetheart, I wasn't trying to be rude. I was just shocked. What happened to all the shit we discussed when it came to him?"

"We're friends!"

"Friends? You let him meet your sister and come into your parents' home! I'm your father, Yolani. You may be able to fool everybody else, but I know you. You like his ass. You had hearts all in your damn eyes when I stepped into the den, that's what pissed me the hell off!"

"Look—"

"Yolani—"

"Look, I am an adult, and I am a human. You and people out there that don't even know me are not gonna tell me who to deal with. Now I'm done talking about it. Good night, Daddy." I kissed his face, barely, then went on to tell my sister and mother goodbye as well.

I'd never bickered with my father this much, and I didn't know if it was truly worth it yet.