In the darkness, we’re both silent for a moment. After all, that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever done, aside from watching him fuck me near the mirror. Not to mention he just rode me for a solid hour. He must be exhausted. I roll and drop to my back, panting, completely content. He drops to his back beside me, and still says nothing.
“That was hot,” I say, my voice low.
“Never had anythin’ like that in my life. In fact, I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
That’s news, and I smile into the darkness.
“You’re a fuckin’ sweet lay, honey.”
I’m not sure if I like that compliment. It makes my chest hurt, and I’m reminded that’s all I am to him—a sweet lay. Nothing more. Nothing less. And when he’s done with me, he’ll find another sweet lay. Hurt, I roll to my side and shuffle under the covers.
“I’m tired,” I say, my voice soft. “Are you staying or going?”
“Jaylah,” he begins.
“Tired, Mack.”
He doesn’t push, as always. He just rolls, pressing his lips to the back of my neck, and then he’s gone. I clench my eyes shut, knowing I need to stop this, but not being able to find it in me to walk away. He makes me feel amazing, and I don’t want that to end.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
~*~*~*~
“He’s got a temp,” I whisper to my mom on the phone, frantic. “He’s really hot, Mom.”
“Honey, calm down,” she says, her voice gentle. “You need to make sure he’s not wrapped up.”
“He’s sick,” I croak. “Mom, he’s sick.”
“I know. Sweetheart, listen to me, unwrap him and make sure he’s not overheating.”
“But—”
“Do as I say, Jaylah.”
I nod, even though she can’t hear me, and I unravel Diesel. He cries, loud and piercing, and my eyes fill with tears.
“Mom,” I plead.
“Honey, babies get sick. You need to figure out what’s going on, and probably take him to a hospital.”
“Did I do something wrong?” I cry.
“No, God no. It happens, trust me. Now, are his cheeks red?”
“Yes, but he’s been crying.”
“Has he been pulling at his ears?”
He has. For the past few hours his little fingers have been curled around one of his ears. “Yes,” I whisper.
“Okay, how hot is he?”
I check the thermometer I put in, and it’s high, really high.
“He’s hot, Mom, oh, God.”
“Honey, you need to call Mack. Then you need to take the baby to the hospital.”
“Okay,” I say, panicked. “Okay.”
“Call me as soon as you can, and stay calm. It’s going to be okay.”
I hang up without answering, and lift Diesel into my arms. He’s crying, really loud, and his little hands are waving about. I can feel the heat coming off his skin and panic rises in my chest. Every time I press a cool cloth to his face, he screams so loudly I am forced to remove it.
I turn and rush into the living area, lifting my phone to ring Mack, but I don’t have to. The door opens and he comes strolling in. It’s after six in the evening, so he’s right on time. He looks to me, then to Diesel, and before he can say anything, I whisper, “He’s sick, Mack.”
Something changes in his face and he stares at me, his eyes dangerous. “Sick?”
“He’s got a really high fever, he won’t eat, he’s pulling his ears. Babies, they can die of high fevers. We have to go to the hospital.”
“Get him in the car,” he orders.
“I have to get his things, Mack, we can’t go without them.”
“I’ll get them.”
“You don’t know what to get,” I cry.
“Fuck, Jaylah.”
“Hold him. Just hold him while I do it.”
“No,” he says, stepping back.
“Mack,” I scream so loudly Diesel starts to cry harder. Shit. “This isn’t the time for you to live in your fucked up little world. Your son is sick, do you hear me? And if we don’t take him to the hospital, he could die. Now, open your God damned arms and take him, and stop being so fucking pathetic.”
He flinches at my words, but I don’t give him the chance to respond. I walk forward and I pass Diesel to him. It takes a second, but he lifts his arms and takes his son. His entire body flinches and his eyes flare with alarm as Diesel squirms and cries. If Diesel weren’t so sick, it would be a truly beautiful moment.
“Press your hand to his back,” I say, my voice softer now. I lift Mack’s hand and place it to Diesel’s back.
“Now put your other one under his bum.”
I tuck Mack’s hand under his bum so Diesel is curled against Mack’s chest. He instantly turns his face to Mack’s chest and stops crying. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I don’t have time to watch the beauty unfolding before me. I turn and rush off, getting the basics. It takes me only five minutes, but by the time I’m back, Mack is staring at me, his face worried.
“Jaylah,” he says, his voice low. “His breathing just slowed.”
My heart kicks up a notch and panic rises again. I have to squash it down; I know I do. I can’t let it get the better of me.
“We’ve got to call an ambulance, Mack,” I say, pulling out my phone.
“That was hot,” I say, my voice low.
“Never had anythin’ like that in my life. In fact, I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
That’s news, and I smile into the darkness.
“You’re a fuckin’ sweet lay, honey.”
I’m not sure if I like that compliment. It makes my chest hurt, and I’m reminded that’s all I am to him—a sweet lay. Nothing more. Nothing less. And when he’s done with me, he’ll find another sweet lay. Hurt, I roll to my side and shuffle under the covers.
“I’m tired,” I say, my voice soft. “Are you staying or going?”
“Jaylah,” he begins.
“Tired, Mack.”
He doesn’t push, as always. He just rolls, pressing his lips to the back of my neck, and then he’s gone. I clench my eyes shut, knowing I need to stop this, but not being able to find it in me to walk away. He makes me feel amazing, and I don’t want that to end.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
~*~*~*~
“He’s got a temp,” I whisper to my mom on the phone, frantic. “He’s really hot, Mom.”
“Honey, calm down,” she says, her voice gentle. “You need to make sure he’s not wrapped up.”
“He’s sick,” I croak. “Mom, he’s sick.”
“I know. Sweetheart, listen to me, unwrap him and make sure he’s not overheating.”
“But—”
“Do as I say, Jaylah.”
I nod, even though she can’t hear me, and I unravel Diesel. He cries, loud and piercing, and my eyes fill with tears.
“Mom,” I plead.
“Honey, babies get sick. You need to figure out what’s going on, and probably take him to a hospital.”
“Did I do something wrong?” I cry.
“No, God no. It happens, trust me. Now, are his cheeks red?”
“Yes, but he’s been crying.”
“Has he been pulling at his ears?”
He has. For the past few hours his little fingers have been curled around one of his ears. “Yes,” I whisper.
“Okay, how hot is he?”
I check the thermometer I put in, and it’s high, really high.
“He’s hot, Mom, oh, God.”
“Honey, you need to call Mack. Then you need to take the baby to the hospital.”
“Okay,” I say, panicked. “Okay.”
“Call me as soon as you can, and stay calm. It’s going to be okay.”
I hang up without answering, and lift Diesel into my arms. He’s crying, really loud, and his little hands are waving about. I can feel the heat coming off his skin and panic rises in my chest. Every time I press a cool cloth to his face, he screams so loudly I am forced to remove it.
I turn and rush into the living area, lifting my phone to ring Mack, but I don’t have to. The door opens and he comes strolling in. It’s after six in the evening, so he’s right on time. He looks to me, then to Diesel, and before he can say anything, I whisper, “He’s sick, Mack.”
Something changes in his face and he stares at me, his eyes dangerous. “Sick?”
“He’s got a really high fever, he won’t eat, he’s pulling his ears. Babies, they can die of high fevers. We have to go to the hospital.”
“Get him in the car,” he orders.
“I have to get his things, Mack, we can’t go without them.”
“I’ll get them.”
“You don’t know what to get,” I cry.
“Fuck, Jaylah.”
“Hold him. Just hold him while I do it.”
“No,” he says, stepping back.
“Mack,” I scream so loudly Diesel starts to cry harder. Shit. “This isn’t the time for you to live in your fucked up little world. Your son is sick, do you hear me? And if we don’t take him to the hospital, he could die. Now, open your God damned arms and take him, and stop being so fucking pathetic.”
He flinches at my words, but I don’t give him the chance to respond. I walk forward and I pass Diesel to him. It takes a second, but he lifts his arms and takes his son. His entire body flinches and his eyes flare with alarm as Diesel squirms and cries. If Diesel weren’t so sick, it would be a truly beautiful moment.
“Press your hand to his back,” I say, my voice softer now. I lift Mack’s hand and place it to Diesel’s back.
“Now put your other one under his bum.”
I tuck Mack’s hand under his bum so Diesel is curled against Mack’s chest. He instantly turns his face to Mack’s chest and stops crying. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I don’t have time to watch the beauty unfolding before me. I turn and rush off, getting the basics. It takes me only five minutes, but by the time I’m back, Mack is staring at me, his face worried.
“Jaylah,” he says, his voice low. “His breathing just slowed.”
My heart kicks up a notch and panic rises again. I have to squash it down; I know I do. I can’t let it get the better of me.
“We’ve got to call an ambulance, Mack,” I say, pulling out my phone.
