day1 love

Chapter 4 * some things never change

The cranky look on his face tickled me to death and I put my head down so he wouldn't see that, but a few seconds later I was all out giggling.

Messing with what was HIS huh? Maybe, just maybe, he could forgive me all my wrongs.

I couldn't do the upstate prison visits or the money on the books.
I couldn't stand to see him locked away like some animal.
I wasn't able to defend my actually quite innocent self of any wrongdoings that the streets said I was guilty of.

I'd quit him when rumors began swirling about me and some rival drug dealer, that I was sneaking around on Sam.

Yeah, nope, I wasn't.

I tried in vain to get him to listen to my side of things.
How all of his supposed homies were coming at me reckless, coming up on packages with short money, or worse, not paying me at all.

I tried to tell him that this life wasn't for me, but all he heard was his boys lies and believed them over me, so I quit him.

My heart couldn't stand the hurt and pain that him choosing to believe them over me caused.
Then I'd gone to see him on his visitation day, and saw him with another female.
I quit him on the spot.
I was heartbroken.
So, I went out that night to a bar with a bunch of my Hooligan Girls, who were part of the crew, drank shot after shot of vodka, until i epitomized the term "white girl wasted" and then drunkenly hooked up with Tris, and slept with him.

I had never let anyone but Sam, who had been my first, anywhere near me .
That's why his accusations of me sleeping with the enemy, my friend Akki, AND his own BROTHER, hurt me so grievously.
Not to mention the female I saw him with had ignited my temper and made me make a mistake.
In the harsh morning light, my mistake seemed unforgivable.
I just kept making one bad decision after another until it led to last night's debacle and aftermath.

Here I was with the only man I'd ever loved, and I couldn't stop laughing.
I geuss it was better than crying which Sam hated.
My tears were almost always his undoing.
I was his ride or die, his other half, and I almost did die.

Without a word, he tilted up my chin and kissed me, none too gently either.
That made me stop laughing pretty quick
As his kiss deepened, I slammed my eyes shut and kissed him back, pouring all my apologies and how I fucked everything up, into it.

His arms wrapped around me like steel bands, holding me, then he was touching the side of my face and tangling his hands in my long, naturally curly, dark brown hair.

He barely showed any sign of strain as he picked me up off my feet. I wrapped my legs around his hips.
He began walking us upstairs into the general direction of what I knew to be his bedroom, never breaking the kiss.
He kicked his door shut and carried me over to his massive king size California sleigh bed and lay me in the center of it.

He pulled his tee over his head, as I watched his muscles move under his skin.
My mouth went completely dry as I noticed that that the tattoo he had bearing my name, Nikole, was still on his chest.
He never got it covered over.
He looked down at me and I saw passion flare in his dark brown, almost obsidian, colored eyes.

He said roughly "If we do this, that's it, you're mines again.
No more running away, ghosting me, you got that Nikole Elizabeth Sweeney?"

Ohhh shit, he called me by my first, middle, and last names.
He hardly ever called me by anything other than lil bit, or girl.
Around his homies he called me his little bitch or his girl.
The only times he called me by my name was when he was mad, or when he was feeling me and wanted intimacy.

I stretched my arms out to him, the look in my eyes an open invitation to come reclaim me, almost a dare.

He joined me there and then reminded me why it shoulda been nobody else but him, for me, and why there would probably never would be again.

Every kiss, every sigh, every pleasurable feeling that raced through me was unashamedly us.
Each giving the other as good, or better, than we got

In those final moments, I swear I heard all of heavens angels singing for us, and I cried his name.

Many hours later, I awoke from the deep sleep he'd brought down on me and looked up through my lashes at him and found him studying me intensely while smoking a cigarette.

He said, "I forgot to get you something to eat, and I ain't went to the store yet, so we gonna have to order out"
I nodded my head and got up, going in search of my clothes, which were thrown very haphazardly all across the room.

Funny, funny man, I couldn't seem to find my underwear, and he always did have a bad habit of taking them. Especially the prettiest sets.

I refused to think about how I boosted them out of a department store in Center City a month or so ago out of pure desperation.
I'd walked off with several hundred dollars worth of fancy, lacy, silky, and downright decadent undergarments without having been caught, and then sold all but the prettiest pair to fuel my ex asshole's coke habit.
Maybe to keep him from beating on me again.
Not my proudest moment, for sure.

I felt him staring, so I turned towards him only to see the pretty icy blue bikini cut panties I was in search of, dangling from his fingers and him giving me the look, and his smirk.

So I went over, sat on his lap, kissed him like I meant it, and heard him growl deep inside his chest.

"Stop that Lil Bit, we will starve to death with the way I can't get enough of you, or you will be too sore for later, after we eat"

He wiggled his thick eyebrows at me and lightly smacked my ass. "Promises, promises" I intoned, but got up quickly, seeing something flare in his eyes.
I was always a smart ass.

He told me to look in his dresser, get a pair of sweats out.
His eyes dared me to complain I had clothes I could wear.
I considered it for a moment and realized those clothes had blood on them, my split lip had leaked all over my babydoll top, and the jeans were far too clingy for Sam to ever let me out in public with them on.
He liked that I dressed classy, never showed off my shape when we were together before.

Tris preferred me to dress the way I was. He loved to flaunt me and then would get mad when I got cracked on.
Which usually led to me getting a cracked rib, cracked in the face and other domestic battery.

Sam told me to go take a nice hot soak, which did sound wonderful, so that's what I did after requesting a breakfast special and coffee.