Hear Me Sin

Chapter Seven

Compton, California

INDIE ARIE'S "THIS LOVE" caressed the ears of the two lovers on the couch. An orange flame flickered from the table, illuminating the house as it carried the scent of vanilla. Inola sat on top of Omari's lap in white cotton shorts and the matching white bra as their tongues danced professionally with one another.

Omari's large hands sat on her small behind, the sound of their tongues entwining as Inola let out soft moans. Her nipples pushed against the fabric of her bra that was pressed up against his chest. The television was on in the background, showing a rerun of a 2016 Music Awards show.

It was times like these Omari wished he could just whisper in this girl's ear how much he cared about her, but then again he felt the way he showed her was just as beautiful. Omari pulled away first, resting his hand on her cheek. He was breathing heavily, closing his eyes as he focused on relaxing his member that was starting to swell.

Enrique had a habit of always popping out of bed. He knew Inola would die if they were caught having sex. He was nine so definitely old enough to know what was going on if he saw it. Inola was smiling once he laid eyes on her, making him chuckle.

"You such a bad girl, man." He said, kissing her lips.

He knew from the way she was looking at him she didn't catch it, but it didn't matter. She playfully pouted at him, rubbing a closed hand against her chest in a circular motion, signing the word 'sorry' to him. She knew how annoying it must've been to get a man worked up just to not have sex with him.

A loud banging on the door made Omari swing his head around. He looked back at Inola and pointed at the door. He's asked her before how she heard the door whenever she was home. Enrique would alert her and if he wasn't home, majority of the people who knew she was deaf would call her phone so it would vibrate. She could hear that.

From the look on her face Omari could tell she wasn't expecting company. She located her shirt and put it back on, while Omari sat where he was. If it was someone she knew personally and invited inside he'd go away, but she looked concerned so he wanted to make sure everything was alright first.

Inola pulled her shorts down on the way to the door and opened it, surprised to see the father of her children, Sancho. He was standing there fuming. His hair was freshly tapered at the edges, his hairline neat and sharp, making his face look more handsome. He was from Mazatlán, Mexico but moved up to the states at fourteen. Though he could speak English, he had an accent and it mainly came out when he was angry.

He stepped into the apartment like he owned the place, turning on the lights. He got even angrier when he laid eyes on a half naked Inola and the guy who stood just feet away from her shirtless, gray sweatpants on his lower half. Sancho was light in tone so the redness was quick to flush to his face.

"Who is this?"

Inola put her hand on his shoulder, putting a finger to her lips to tell him be quiet. The kids were sleeping and he would wake them up coming in being unnecessary.

Sancho roughly smacked her hand off not liking how she was responding. "Don't tell me to be quiet, who is he?"

Omari's response was to shove the man back with both hands. Using double the force that he had just used on Inola. It caused him to fly back into the door. His back hit the door hard, causing the small apartment to rattle.

"Touch her again!" Omari's voice raised. He hadn't technically hit her, but he didn't like the way Sancho had just handled her.

"What?!" Sancho sucked his teeth, furrowing his eyebrows. He came off the wall, pulling his pants up that were slightly sagging, a sign that he was ready to fight as well.