Baby Momma 2 (10 page)

“Michelle? Try to squeeze my finger if you can hear me.”

Ugh. Who is this squawking-ass woman in my ear?
My head was killing me and my mouth felt like straight yuck. Like I hadn't brushed my teeth or drunk anything since who knew when. I felt so tired. I didn't even bother trying to open my eyes. All I wanted to do was drift back into the dark silence that I'd somehow slipped out of.

“I need you to squeeze, Michelle.”

“Scream.” My voice sounded crackly and froggish to my own ears. I could barely speak above a groggy, funky whisper. I tried and, damn it, I couldn't squeeze shit. But if she didn't shut the fuck up . . .

“What? Say it again. Use your words, Michelle. Say it to us again.”

Oh my God,
I groaned to myself,
will she ever stop?
I just wanted some ice water and lots of sleep.

“Shut. Fuck. Up. Scream.” It took all the energy I had to get those words out, but whoever the fuck she was left me no choice; she'd refused to let up.

“Well, you are definitely a gutsy one. I think everything will be just fine, Larissa. You can come and talk to her if you'd like; she can definitely hear you.”

“Hey, Chelle.”

God, if I weren't so tired . . .
I tried to say “hey” back to my baby but I was just so damn weak. It felt like the life had somehow been drained out of me and all I was left with was this darkness. Ris sounded so pitiful. I could her sniffling and blowing her nose, and all I could recall was me hitting her and being so nasty to her.

“I love you so much, bae, an' I hope you can forgive me.”

I didn't know what I was supposed to forgive her for when I was the one who acted like a complete fool, hittin' her and shit. Maybe she just meant she was sorry for her being an all-around bitch for the last few weeks. I smiled in my mind and let myself drift back into that quiet, dark place, praying that Bird Bitch wouldn't come back for at least a few hours so I could get some rest.

 

 

When I'd finally come to my senses I found out I was in Memorial Hospital. The car wreck put me in a coma for a week and I slept off and on for a good week afterward. Ris and the kids came to see me every day and I could remember vague bits and pieces of hearing Trey's or Lataya's little voices saying they loved me or asking me to wake up. Ris said tears would roll down my face when the kids would talk to me but aside from that I was pretty much unresponsive. I even thought I'd heard Keyshawn's voice a few times, but I could have been dreaming. Thankfully, even though the car was totaled, I didn't suffer any serious injuries. Still, no one could believe I'd survived the crash. They'd been doing all types of blood work and screenings, trying to make sure I was at 100 percent and clear to be released, when Dr. Traverson came in. As soon as she spoke I immediately knew who she was.

“Michelle, I'd like to ask you a few questions.” She glanced at Ris. “Alone please.”

I nodded for Ris to wait outside so Bird Bitch and I could have this private convo.

“Okay, what seems to be the problem?”

“The toxicology reports came back from the lab. Now, initially we asked you several times, upon waking, if you were a user of any types of recreational substances, legal or illegal.”

I stared blankly at her, waiting for further explanation, not completely understanding where this was going. “I don't use drugs, Dr. Traverson. Never have. I did leave a party and did have a few drinks. I told you that, and my wife told you that also.” I was now frowning at her, confused as to why she would insist on asking me these same questions damn all over again.

“I understand your dilemma. You have young children in a same-sex household. A drug-related automobile accident and investigation would not bode well for you or your children, I'm sure.”

“What the fuck does my sexuality or how I raise my children have to do with any of this? I don't use drugs. Someone did something to my Benz. I was almost murdered and you have the nerve to come after me? Jim Bartell can vouch for all of this, any mechanic can look at my car and tell you it was tampered with.” My head was starting to pound and the IV in my hand was itching, aggravating me. For a second, I debated on snatching the thing out of my skin and just marching my ass right out of that damn hospital.

“The toxicology report shows you had pretty high levels of cocaine and ketamine in your system, Michelle. We kept you sedated initially as a means of rehabilitation, to ease the withdrawal symptoms. Would you like to tell me, on average, about how often you use?” She waited and I stared at her like she was a complete idiot.

“Michelle, we have several very highly recommended and very confidential programs I'd like to recommend to keep you from relapsing once we release you.”

“Oh hell no, there has got to be some kind of mix up. I . . . I barely touch a glass of wine here and there but I would never do that kind of shit to my body. What the hell is ketamine?”

The thought of possibly losing my children over some dumb shit like this was making me want to slide right back into another damn coma.
What the fuck really happened at that party with Keyshawn?
I tried to remember every single little detail because that was the absolute last time I could remember even being under the same roof as any kind of drugs. My body shook uncontrollably as tears fell down my face. My life was falling apart and there seemed to be nothing I could do to pull it back together.

“Dr. Traverson? I'm sorry, did you say we was gonna lose our kids?” Ris had poked her head into the room. She'd obviously been listening the entire time.

I lay back and rolled onto my side on the hospital bed facing the wall. For the moment, I was content with just hugging myself and crying quietly. I didn't care to look at Ris or Bird Bitch right that second.

“Yes, Larissa, it is possible. If the mother has an ongoing issue with a controlled substance and refuses assistance, I may have to suggest that we get the state involved before we can release her back into the household. She was in a life-threatening accident under the influence and next time the children could very well be in it with her. It is highly possible that the children will be taken into Child Protective Services. Doctor-patient confidentiality prevents me from discussing this any further with you, however.”

Fuck that shit, I'll just get myself a damn good lawyer.
These types of things get fought all the time and won. I just ignored Bird Bitch.

“Well, Dr. Traverson, um . . . what if she ain' know she was um . . . actually doin' cocaine or anything else? I mean like voluntarily?”

That one simple little question made all the blood rush to my head. The vein in my forehead suddenly throbbed and probably swelled to the point that I looked like Frankenstein.

“And how on earth would she
not know
she was consuming an illegal narcotic, Larissa? Several
illegal
narcotics?”

I couldn't move, suddenly thinking,
Yeah, Larissa, how the fuck would I not know?
I was scared that if I made eye contact with her the look on my face would suck the life from her body, killing her on the spot and the truth would never be known. Then I'd still be right here, stuck in the same dumb-ass situation. So I didn't dare move a single, solitary muscle or make a sound.

“Um, it . . . it wasn't meant to be like for her to have no habit or nothin'. I jus' did it 'cause I read somethin' in this book we have in our library. You see, there was this voodoo priestess and she wanted her chieftain to come to her bed every night and not sleep with his other wives or ho around.
So,
every day she gave him a slow-acting poison and every time he chose her for sex she'd give him the antidote.”

I was pretty sure Bird Bitch and I had the same exact “bitch, is you crazy?” look on our faces while Ris was talking.

“Well what happened is, eventually the chieftain got rid of all the other women and picked priestess 'cause he realized he always felt the best when he was with her and only her.”

She paused, taking a deep breath the same way Trey did whenever I caught him in a lie and he was forced to tell me the truth; the rest of her words came out in rushed detail.

“So I got some coke—not no street shit. They cut that wit' who knows what and that could fuck somebody up somethin' serious and I ain't want that to happen. I put it on my finger and stuck it in her ass one day durin' sex. She ain't even like that shit, Doctor, and I swear she ain't know. I jus' figured if she got a high from sex wit' me she wouldn't want anyone but me, an' the only way I could give her the coke without her knowin' was anally—so that might be why she tested positive, 'cause it was pharmaceutical grade. I mean like really good shit.” Larissa had started crying by the end of her fucking confession and I was two seconds away from tryin' to figure out if I could press charges on some shit like that or just whoop her ass. I still couldn't believe this shit.

“You did what to me?! All that li'l ‘lemme show you a trick, play wit' ya ass' bullshit? Ris! My ass was numb for like two days! Did Lania have it on her strap too? Did y'all give me anything that night?”

Ris shrugged and I immediately regretted my outburst, lying back down, out of breath, my head feeling like it was splitting in half. I couldn't believe it. I was just flabber-fuckin'-gasted at this one. Bird Bitch was standing there, shaking her head back and forth in disbelief with her mouth opening and closing. She obviously wasn't used to lesbian sex, foreplay, or any of the toys, and we'd just given her a crash course.

“I . . . I . . . I'll l . . . leave you t . . . two alone for a m . . . moment.” She spun her tight-faced self around and marched out of the room so fast I was surprised the tiles didn't fly up off the damn floor.

There was nothing for me to say to Ris. All I could do was lie there staring at her in utter disbelief. She stood there crying, looking back at me like a damned fool.
Voodoo priestess?
Those were old wives' tales, folklores. Out of all the life-empowering shit I had up in the library I just couldn't believe she'd actually read that particular one and tried to actually apply that shit to our life. What if I'd gotten addicted, or she'd gotten hold of some bad “pharmaceutical” shit and it'd killed me?

“I only did it—”

Holding up my hand I turned my face away, unable to look at her any longer. I didn't even want to hear it. I'd been drugged by my own wife. Never in a million years.

“Baby, I don't wanna lose you. I love you.”

I ignored her. On one hand I had my ex trying to kill me, and on the other hand, my wife drugging me to keep me.
What the fuck kind of bullshit karma is this?
I just couldn't seem to catch a damn break.

They finally said I could be released after being stuck in that hospital for damn near two and a half weeks. Honestly, I thought Bird Bitch was just scared that me or Ris was gonna try to take her damn cookies when no one was looking. You know, since Ris rolled up in there and had her thinking we were lesbo, coke-sniffing, playing-in-ya-booty swingers. Wasn't nobody worried about Bird Bitch's old scary ass, I just wanted to go home. I'd asked Jim to arrange for a car to pick me up. I didn't want Ris driving me anywhere and definitely not in one of our cars until I could have them checked out. I guessed Rasheed thought he'd actually killed me or something, because the entire time I'd been in the hospital everything seemed to be pretty quiet.

“Michelle you
have
to use the wheelchair; it's policy.”

I glared at Bird Bitch, happy that this was the last order and hopefully, the last time I'd ever have to hear her annoying-ass high-pitched voice. Reluctantly, I sat down and let the orderly wheel me to my car. Covering my eyes with my hand, I was momentarily blinded by the sudden exposure to the midday July sun. As the automatic door opened I welcomed the transition from hospital air to real air as it rushed over me. I waited for my eyes to adjust. I was literally thawing out. The transition from the cold, sterile hospital to the humidity and the sun on my skin made me feel alive again. Ris had brought my favorite turquoise sundress and flip-flops for me to wear home and I was thankful because any more clothing and I'd be sweating my ass off.

Walking into the house I couldn't help feeling a mixture of remorse and happiness. The place was just as I'd left it. Except for some ugly-ass oversized cream and tan couch where my old dark chocolate leather one used to be.
That shit better be stain guarded. Ris must've picked it out because there is no way I want the kids jumping they li'l asses all over a cream couch.
I frowned, the memory of why I needed a new couch suddenly making me feel sick to my stomach.

“Mommeeeeee.” Trey ran up to me and I kneeled down and squeezed him so hard he squeaked. I loosened up, kissing his little cheeks. He smelled just like all little boys should smell—like cookies and dirt.

“You smell like a puppy,” I teased him, rubbing my nose up against his neck, tickling him.

“I'm not a puppy. I'm a boy. Mommy an' me an' Taya have surprises for you.”

The last person I really wanted to see was Ris, but I couldn't avoid her forever. “Okay, baby, where are they at?”

“Um I'm s'posed to keep you occ . . . occ . . .”

I smiled at his little scrunched-up forehead, deciding to help him out with the word before he developed a stutter. “Occupied, baby?”

“Yeah”—he was nodding his head like I'd solved a riddle—“dat's da word him used.”

“
That's
the word
he
used. And, who is this ‘he,' baby?”

“Ount know. Mommy said call him Daddy, but I didn't 'cause I wanted to ask you if he's Daddy, but Taya . . . Taya tried ta say it an' she said ‘Da Da Da Da.'”

Lord, where the fuck is Ris at? What did Trey mean she told him to call somebody Daddy?
I scooped Trey up, grabbed my cell, and marched toward the kitchen, confident that at any second I could have any one of my guys in there if I needed help. Hell, I done seen 101 movies where the psycho killer takes the whole family hostage and all kinds of crazy shit happens so I was ready for damn near anything. I guessed it was time to face the music and deal with this nigga face to fuckin' face. Man to woman.

“Trey, man, what happened to keepin' her occupied?”

“I'm only four.” Trey shrugged in my arms. “Nex' time jus' lemme watch da cookies.”

I couldn't believe who was standing in front of the oven with my favorite pink apron tied around his waist and pink oven mitt on one hand. He was trying to balance Lataya on one hip and pull the cookies out the oven with the other. Keyshawn looked awkward as hell, and right at home in my kitchen.

He was wearing a fitted black tank top and plaid tan and black shorts with some Perry Ellis boat shoes.
Damn.
Now this was a nice welcome home present. Looking around I didn't see Ris anywhere; agitation immediately set in.
She could've at least been here when my ass walked up in the house.
I put Trey down.

“Baby, go play in your room. I'll bring you some cookies as soon as they cool down.”

Lataya was already asleep and once she was out, she was out. I peeled her out of Key's arm. My hand slightly brushed Key's skin and sparks shot through my body from the contact. The man looked like he was made out of solid muscle. I took Lataya and put her on the couch in the living room.

“So um, what are you doin' here and where's Ris?”

“Larissa told Lania 'bout the accident and shit. We both offered to help out. Lania jus' took her to get you a welcome home present so I volunteered to watch the kids. She thought you'd be home later than this.”

I was scared to ask Key what exactly Ris had told him. Couldn't have been but so much or anywhere near the truth since the nigga was standing in the middle of my kitchen in a pink apron baking cookies. He pulled off the mitt, proudly examining his handy work. Smiling up at him I couldn't help teasing. “Well now, it's nice to see those hands are good for somethin' other than handlin' a damn basketball and jugglin' women, Betty Crocker.” He gave me a mischievous grin back and I felt something I hadn't felt in years: butterflies.

“Oh no, they can handle plenty more than that and the women. They just keep me busy until the right one settles me down.”

Somehow one of those cookies seemed to magically float its way up to my lips. Okay, the nigga fed me the cookie. But it was
the way
he did it. Once again I found myself as the focal point of his almond-shaped brown eyes. We were so close I could see that his lashes were short, thick, and extremely curly. I was just as mesmerized with him as he seemed to be with me. I could feel my heart starting to speed up; just being close to this man made my body follow its own agenda, no matter what my mind told it.

“So it seems as though we're both in completely unsatisfying situations. I think maybe we should join forces. Work on satisfying a few things.”

That fool could've said “let's go sit and translate Latin in a library” for all I know and my ass still would've said “okay.”

Warmth brushed up against my bottom lip and instinctively they parted. It could've been the fact that I'd been eating hospital food for the last couple of weeks but I couldn't help this shit, I had a straight-up big girl moment. Closing my eyes I moaned. This nigga made the
perfect
chocolate chip cookie.
Oh my God.
Ain't nothin' in this world like a cookin' or bakin' muthafucka. I lie to you not.

“My turn.” I smiled, breaking one of the cookies in half, raising it up to Key's full pink lips.

He went in for his bite, and stepping in closer I moved ever so slightly, denying him his treat and leaving a trail of warm chocolate across his lower lip. He inhaled sharply, surprised when I leaned up on my toes and softly licked and sucked on his bottom lip until all the chocolate was completely gone.

“Mmmm.” He raised an eyebrow, licking his lips. The action sent a wave of sexual awareness through my body. “I guess I get anotha turn since Michelle switchin' up the rules.”

He was running his finger along the curve of my chin, toward my ear, down to my collarbone.

“Who the hell said we had rules?” I sounded like I'd just finished hiking up the side of Mount Everest.

He smiled at my comment before pulling me into a deep, long kiss that set my blood on fire and awakened the ocean in between my legs. It took my breath away and damn near made my knees give out at the same time. My eyes flew open and I gasped at the sudden warmth against my neck
. No, this nigga didn't.
But the light dusting of crumbs across my chest and all over the floor confirmed he'd just crushed that mu'fucka all over the side of my neck. He smiled against my lips before lowering his head, drifting his tongue lazily across my skin, treating the chocolate on my neck the same way I'd treated the chocolate on his lips. He stopped just long enough to lift me onto the counter beside the stove.

I untied my apron from around his waist and replaced it with my legs, my dress riding so far up my legs I could feel the cold counter against the back of my thighs. Sliding the straps to my dress down just past my shoulders, I took another cookie from the tray and stuck my finger into one of the gooey chocolate chips. I watched Key seductively as he watched me smear chocolate down the middle of my neck and even lower around my half-exposed nipple. He was rock solid; I could feel it through the barrier of his shorts pressed between my legs bulging up against me, the heat searing through my thin cotton panties. My thighs flexed involuntarily. He didn't need any more urging than that before lowering his head and pulling my chocolate-covered Hershey's Kiss nipple into the heat of his mouth, sucking hard.

Ripples of pleasure started at my hair follicles, and shot all the way down to my toes and back up again. Instinctively, I ran my hands underneath his tank top; he felt like warm marble covered in skin. His lips were working their magic on my nipples, left then right. Yes, he was definitely earning these milk and cookies. The top of my sundress had fallen almost down to my waist and I bit my lower lip hard when Key cupped my breast together with one hand and licked both nipples at the same damn time. We both moaned when my hand slid down into the waistband of his shorts, and all I can say is, feeling is definitely believing.

My hand closed around as much of him as it could. I twisted my wrist and gently stroked him upward; he took a sharp, quick breath. Like riding a bike, I started to remember how empowering it felt to be able to weaken a man with one hand. He was thick, thicker than I remembered him looking, and all of a sudden I needed something else wrapped all around that mu'fucka. As if he'd read my thoughts Key reached down and lowered his zipper, freeing himself through the hole in his boxers.

We didn't waste any more time. Our eyes connected for the briefest moment before he kissed me hard. The heat from his fingers grazed my inner thigh as he slid my soaked panties to the side, pulling me forward on the counter. He buried himself as deep as he could go in one fluid stroke.

My ass had completely forgotten what the fuck a real dick should feel like. I could feel every bit of me stretching around every single inch of him and it was a painfully pleasurable glimpse of heaven.

Breaking our kiss, I buried my face into his neck, biting into his skin to keep from moaning or screaming out loud. My nails had to be hurting him; I was digging them in like I was a rock climber and his back was the damn mountain. Every stroke sent a shockwave of pleasure through my body like one of those sonar pulses they use to ping the ocean.

“Damn, Michelle, you gonna have me all marked up. I got appearances to make, baby.”

I kissed his skin, offering him a silent apology. “I wanna scream so bad, baby. I can't help it.” My reply was no more than a breathless whisper against the side of his neck. I would've promised that I wouldn't do it again but I was used to being rough and being handled just as roughly in return. There was something about finding a bruise or a mark the next day that always made me smile secretively at the fun I had earning my “battle scars.”

“Don't worry 'bout it, baby, daddy'll fix it.”

My eyes drifted closed. I felt weightless. The nigga didn't miss a beat. He slid me off the counter and held me up against him. I tightened my legs around his hips and wrapped my arms around his neck. The excitement, the thrill of being caught, all of the above just acted as fuel to the powder keg about to explode inside my pussy, and this mu'fucka's dick was the damn fuse.

He palmed my ass in each hand, the heat from his long fingers searing my skin as he guided my pussy up and down the length of him. My head fell back, a soft moan leaving my lips. Fuck, he was about to get bit again and he must've sensed it coming because before I could even close my mouth or get anywhere near his neck, it was full of cookie. I glared at him, an angry frown creasing my forehead, and then I completely forgot why I was frowning in the first place. Mouth full of damn chocolate chip cookie, I chewed on that to keep from chewin' on him.

“Chelle, this shit so good,” he moaned quietly in my ear, wrapping his arm around my body tightly he started to stroke deeper and harder.

I could feel every vein, every throb, my muscles contracted and the walls closed in around him. It hit me like a wall of electricity that started in my pussy, working its way outwards to my fingertips and toes—my powder keg
exploded.
I couldn't breathe, couldn't hold myself up. Eyes closed, I let myself float on each wave as it came in.

Key quickly pulled out and I felt liquid heat hit the back of my thigh as he stroked himself, his chest heaving like he'd just got off the court. He waited a few seconds before he sat me down.

I straightened my dress, wet a paper towel, and wiped myself down before sliding my panties back in place while he fixed his shorts, or at least tried to. There was no hiding the wet spot I'd left on them, and no, I wasn't sorry, but thankfully his shirt was long enough to cover it. I looked at the mess we'd made out of the cookies and laughed.
Lord, I might never let my babies eat another chocolate chip cookie again.

“I'll take that as a yes?” Keyshawn walked over and smiled at me, expectantly waiting for a reply.