Page 226 of Own It

The shit was beyond sloppy, generating a wet spot on my sweats.

“Should I wait until your guests return?” the girl asked and saved me unknowingly.

“Fuck, baby . . . I mean yes. Please.” I nodded profusely, wanting this bitch to go before she thought I was turning into a werewolf since Kasia had begun sucking my balls.

As soon as the waitress sauntered off, I let off into Kasia’s mouth. She swallowed up every drop before tucking my privates back into my pants for me and coming up for air.

“That’s how much. And don’t call the waitress ‘baby’ again,” she admonished me, laughing when I shot her a sidelong glance.

“I fucking love you.” I panted.

“I know. Let me out so I can clean my mouth.”

Instead, I picked her up and moved her across me. My legs were too weak at the moment.

“Can’t walk,” I informed.

“In that case, I want the cowgirl ribeye. Thank you.” She switched off to the restroom.

THIRTY-TWO

téa

Mylo and I stood outside of his mother’s home, and it was taking everything in me not to bolt away and hide.

I’d told Mylo I would rather meet his mother after I’d given birth so I wouldn’t give off a bad impression, but he insisted that we do it now. In his eyes, he would be Zaria’s father when she got here, and therefore, it was best his mother became privy to this information sooner than later.

“My baby!” A beautiful brown-skinned woman answered the door. Her sweet perfume wafted out, engulfing the porch as she tugged on Mylo’s big ass to embrace him.

“What’s up, Ma?” Mylo queried, smiling brighter than I’d ever seen him. In return, it made me simper as well.

“And you must be Téa.” She beamed, reaching to hug me as much as she could with this big ass belly between us.

I expected her to have a little bit of an attitude or an air of apprehension—rightfully so—but she was being normal and . . . nice.

“Yes. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Powell.” I simpered, stepping into the cozy single-family home.

The living room was decorated with pictures of Mylo, his father, and some of them all together. All the pictures of his dad were old, though, which I expected since Mylo told me he’d died when he was a child.

“Dana is just fine,” she told me, shutting and locking the door as Mylo helped me sit down on the brown couch.

The house had a very homely vibe, and I already knew I would like being here, God willing.

“Nice to meet you, Dana,” I corrected.

“Would you like any tea or snacks, Téa?” she inquired.

“Just some juice, please, if you have it.” I nodded.

“Okay. Go get the woman some juice and pour me some iced tea.” She bossed her son around before taking a seat next to me.

Mylo froze, confused for a second, but then got up to do as his mother had told him to.

“I love your house. It’s so lived in, but I mean that in a good way,” I complimented.

“I know you do.” She smiled softly, but I could tell she was studying me as she remained silent for a beat. “When are you due, Téa?”

“I have one more month, and then she will be here. We’re—I’m gonna name her Zaria.” I caught myself.