Our Parents Pain Came With Love

Chapter 23

-MACELLA BROWN
Yanga’s touch feels like an electric impulse has just been sent through my entire body making my heart want to jump right out of my chest. If you ask me, it's dangerous for a man to have such an effect on you and you want to know where I learnt that? From reading romance novels that’s where! The kiss I shared with Yanga was not supposed to happen but now that it's happened I seemingly want more of it, I thank God for Aya walking in when she did because Lord knows what would have happened. You ever been kissed so damn good you feel it right there? I mean right at your core? The kind of kiss that builds up a whole orgasm? That’s how the kiss with Yanga felt, I felt it down there and I shouldn’t have but I did. Is it possible that a mere kiss has changed my whole perspective on him? Yes first impressions are everything but honestly when someone proves to be nothing like you thought they were you bound reconsider how you felt in the beginning. The drive to the gallery introduced me to a different side of him and he is like his brothers, he’s smart, obviously good looking, FINEEEEE, SEXY, PACKED in whatever way you actually thinking right now, also he’s sweet in a way I wasn’t expecting him to be. I shouldn’t even be thinking about our kiss, Yaya and Melo took me in and played a role my father never did to me and it's amazing, I would hate to disappoint them by hooking up with their son, if we could even call a mere kiss that. I leave him standing there and let out a deep breath I never knew I was holding in, I grab a champagne glass from a waiter passing by and gulp it down at one go then walk to the bathroom, I need composure. I get into a stall and sit down on the closed toilet seat and just breathe. Why does Yanga have such an effect on me?
*knock-knock*
A knock brings me back to reality making me jump, I clear my throat
“Occupied”
I say and the person pushes the door
“I sai-”
Yanga’s frame stops me from continuing with the sentence at the tip of my tongue
“What are you doing here?”
I ask and he pushes me in and locks the stall behind him
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you Macella”
He says and pulls me in for a kiss refraining me from protesting, his hands find their way to my ass while my arms wrap around his neck. God this is so wrong yet so F*cking right, this kiss is doing wonders down there, things that shouldn’t be happening are happening. Lord why does doing something so bad have to feel so right? I break the kiss
“Someone could walk in”
I say trying to catch my breath
“I locked”
He says turning us over so my back is on the door and he is cupping my face kissing me, it's so hot and intense and very much WRONG! I break it again and he doesn’t hide his annoyance
“We can't do this Yanga please”
I plead
“I can't blow this up for myself Yanga. Please”
I say and then turn to the door
“Nobody has to know”
He says placing his hand over mine on the door latch, I shake my head no
“I don’t think it's worth it Yanga, I can t risk everything. And Aya already knows and the last thing I need is your sister holding this over my head”
I say and he takes a deep breath
“Aya has my back”
He says and I chuckle dryly
“Your sister hates me Yanga, if this would get me kicked out then what's to stop her from saying anything? We can't do this Yanga. Lets avoid this before it turns into something bad”
I say and quickly unlock the door and walk out. I unlock the main door and walk out
“I’ve been looking for you”
Yaya says behind me and I turn to her forcing a smile
“I needed to use the ladies”
I say
“You look flushed, are you ok?”
She asks and I smile and nod
“I am fine, you were looking for me?”
I ask, she takes my hand into hers
“Yes, there's a journalist I want to introduce you to. She writes for the Times paper, a post by her will get you to all the right places honey. Come”
She says and leads us to this journalist
“And here she is, this is my daughter Macella Brown”
Yaya introduces me and a sting of guilt pierces right into my heart at the mention of me being her daughter. Yes Yaya is a mother to me and to mess with her son is a mistake I shouldn’t have allowed to happen.
“Daughter? I see, she’s beautiful”
The journalist says and I force a smile
“Thank you, Call me Mercy please”
I say holding my hand out to her
“I am Natalie Kane. It's a pleasure to meet you, I have heard so much about you a…”
“I will leave you two to it”
Yaya cuts her midway and excuses herself
“Anyway, I want to write a piece about you. Your work is astonishing, I cannot put into words what you have created here. What's your story? How did you link up with Yaya? I want to know everything”
She says and I chuckle
“That is a lot of questions all at once. How about I meet you tomorrow for coffee and we will take it from there?”
I suggest politely
“I would love that yes but I need to publish a piece on this event and seeing that you are the main featured artist instead of Yaya, we have to do this interview today and now or I could just talk to the main artist alone”
She says and I shake my head no
“That won't be necessary, I’m sorry. What was your first question? I would like your questions to be just about my art only and please don’t include my name in your article”
Having ran away, I cannot have my name plastered on some newspaper. The last thing I want is to lead The Mask to Yaya’s door
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To Be Continued