Damn him to hell for being so
beautiful, Precious silently curses Darius. He is a deep chocolate dream: fat
sexy lips, body of death; all her favorite things. His tight top outlines his
muscular biceps and broad chest. When he shoves his hands deep into the pockets
of his jeans, they dip dangerously low past his boxers. When Darius looks down
at the ground, his dreadlocks frame his face. Precious takes that inopportune
moment to remember that not a week ago that face had been between her legs.
They stand looking at each other, not
saying a word as people pass by them. Then Darius puts his hand under her chin
and looks into her eyes. “I miss you baby girl,” he whispers. Precious can
barely hear him; the blood is pounding so loudly in her head.
“It’s you I love. You know that. I’ve
never loved anyone else.”
Precious
pulls her chin out of his hand but doesn’t have the strength to pull away. “How
can I ever trust you again? All you’ve ever done is lie to me.”
“I’m not lying when I tell you I love
you. I do.” Darius grips her shoulders and pulls her into his arms. “I love
you, Precious. I know I don’t deserve you, but I want you back.”
That’s when Precious remembers what a
cheating asshole he is.
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