Unfaithful - (Part 4)
Taken. Claimed. Devoured. Greg’s mouth was fire, his hands relentless. My control? Gone. I told myself I wasn’t built for love—but with him pressed against me, I wasn’t sure I could keep lying.
Catch up!
“So, what’s the 411 on you and Mr. Sexy Greg?”
“There is no 411,” I said, stretching out on the couch. “He wants to play house, and I’m not having it.”
Shayla arched a brow. “Is this your two-time rule bullshit again?”
“It’s not bullshit. It’s a boundary. Sleep with someone more than twice, and things get messy.” I grabbed a handful of grapes and popped one in my mouth. “Now, are we watching this movie or not?”
She rolled her eyes but pressed play. “I’m just saying—it’s been three months since the reunion, and you haven’t given Greg any loving.”
I wasn’t in the mood to spill my drama, but I knew Shayla wouldn’t let it go.
“Maybe you should try to work things out with him.” She paused the movie, turning to face me. “Greg is too good of a man to be waiting on you to decide if you want to keep sexing him. Most men wouldn’t wait this long.”
“I don’t have time for a relationship, Shay. I have my career to think about. I’m not about to end up barefoot and pregnant.”
“That’s biologically impossible, you know that, right?”
“Crazier shit has happened.”
I sighed, sinking deeper into the oversized chair. “The thing is... I had a crush on Greg in high school. He told me he noticed me but couldn’t act on it. I get that. But now that I can have him... I don’t think I want him.”
I stood, stretched, and walked to the window. Navy Pier shimmered against the night, lights reflecting off the water like scattered diamonds.
“You know, I never really appreciated this view before.”
“Don’t change the subject, Jamal.” Shayla followed, slipping an arm around my waist. “You’re going to have to give your heart to someone eventually. Love isn’t easy. Nothing in life is guaranteed.”
I swallowed hard. She was right. But I didn’t want her to be.
With hookups, I had control over the when, the where, and the exit. With Greg, I had no power at all.
“Jamal? Are you listening?”
I nodded.
Shayla sighed. “I blew a redhead in the elevator a few weeks ago. Then I took him upstairs, and we fucked for two hours. He rimmed my ass so good, I turned around and slapped him.”
I smirked. “That good?”
She giggled. “Then he tried to cuddle. Asked what kind of guys I was into.”
“What’d you say?”
“The kind that comes, then goes, and never comes back.”
I poured a drink, tossing it back in one gulp. “I’m a fucking dick.”
“Jamal, don’t say that.”
I grabbed my jacket, wrapping my scarf around my neck. “I gotta go.”
“Where?”
“To see a man about a horse.”
The cold bit at my skin as I stepped outside. Snow fell thick and fast, blanketing the streets in white. Couples clutched each other as they navigated the slippery sidewalks. Cute.
I tipped the doorman and slid into a cab. “Penthouse Lofts, please.”
Traffic crawled.
“You know what? I’ll walk.” I swiped my card and jumped out, jogging the rest of the way. By the time I reached Greg’s building, my lungs burned.
I hesitated at his door, then knocked.
It creaked open, revealing Greg in a robe. His expression was unreadable.