Staying With Her

Chapter FOUR

It was the brightness of the day that made it hard to deal with. Perhaps the hangover was really the culprit that morning but Blackhawk managed to open his eyes at the sound of a wail.

The bed felt cold. He shifted his droopy eyes to his left. Empty. He could've sworn there was a woman laying on his chest the entire night. Had he been drinking too much? Well, that's definitely not the case. He's a man of a few drinks. He loved her curves of softness. Her moans and cries. The young and innocent.

Though the room was quiet, he heard a loud whaling sound pierce through the walls. What the actual f**k? Thought Blackhawk. The last thing he needed was for the ungodly sound of a child. He tried to go back to sleep and ignore it but it was impossible. It sounded like the screeching of an angry cat, only growing harsher and louder. He wrapped himself in the duvet and hid his head under the pillow. Maybe last night was a bad idea? The man was hallucinating and soon he'd be seeing colors.

Groaning, his voice rumbled like a storm as he threw one leg out of the duvet before bringing out the other. Waddling into the bathroom, he splashed cold water over his face and reached for his minty flavored mouthwash. Staring into the glass encircled by a frame of threadlike strands of silver, he noticed a few wrinkles and frown lines on his forehead. He was getting old. His beard was peppered with grey strands along with his messy hair. Dark rims forming under his eyes due to his endless morning caffeine routine.

Baby killers. She called them. Kate had teased him about his constant rush of coffee and the endless amount of lit buds covering the parched cement. Nonetheless, he was a man of his own. He was birthed to his rights and no woman would ever deprive them of him. He ran his hands through his midnight black hair. He broke the habit of a lifetime and kept looking in the mirror longer than was strictly necessary. That was until the horrific wail shattered his mirror.

He padded barefooted into his room, only to discover that his raging hormones were in fact, not clouding his mind. He gazed upon her perfect, naked form. Her hair was disheveled black, eyes dark, figure a perfect hourglass. She was right there, only a foot away, but in her understated glamour, she might as well be on the television. She must've been the woman he'd just f****d his night away. The woman who consumed his desires. Yet, who was she?

And then, she screamed. She screamed like her guts were being ripped out with a blunt instrument. Her hand flew to her mouth while she straddled the baby in her arms. He cried. Oh, for f**k's sake! Blackhawk didn't know what to do, except he did the only thing that came to mind. With one gigantic step, he was in front of her. Bulging veiny hands covered her mouth to protect the ossicles of his ears. His fingertips were electric against her skin. Blue eyes wide with fear and drops of tears cascaded down her pale skin. If it weren't for the baby in her arms, he would've dragged her to bed for round two. He dropped his hand, not before installing trust into her eyes and stepped back.

"Who are you?" He asked, crossing his arms against his chest.

Her eyes followed his movements for a second before landing on his eyes, "Who am I? I should be asking you that?!" She shrieked, her face burning with rage.

"You're in my apartment."

"Yours?!" She fumed, she's close to snapping his balls off.

"Look around baby, do you see diapers and diaries in my room?" He asked, shocking her to the core.

"I signed the lease," She said, rocking the baby on her hip.

"So you pay for my home and my satisfaction?" He smirked.

"I didn't agree to anything! You came on me."

"I came inside you," He corrected, moving towards the bed before taking a seat.

Her face was red with suppressed rage. White knuckles from clenching her fist too hard, and gritted teeth from an effort to remain silent, her hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid–burning, slicing, potent. Her eyes narrowed as the man continued taunting her. He was tall and handsome, but a pretty face wasn't going to get him out of this.

"What did you say?" She seethed through gritted teeth.

"You heard me, baby, I won't repeat." He was working her last nerve. Biting onto the inside of her cheek, she felt it swell from pressure and throbbed inside her mouth. If it weren't for her baby, she would've strangled the man whilst drowning him in her eternal cussing.

He saw the anger register on her face before she could hide it. A small smile played on his lips. His voice was like nothing she'd ever heard before. It sounded like a drum, but deeper, like a tuba, but deeper. It was smooth, like butter, but it could be as rocky as rocky road ice cream. His tone was as deep as the sun at midnight. Yet, his ego had her crawling away.

"I want you out," She almost whispered. Drained from her pleasuring night and restless crying baba heaving heavily in her arms.

"I want another. You don't see me begging," He couldn't help but step up from the bed and corner her to the wall.

His voice was like the magma chamber of a volcano, deep, but filled entirely with the molten rock. It could be powerful enough to make your bones feel like they were vibrating. She sucked in a sharp breath as his shirtless torso pressed close to her. His eyes, smoky dark green eyes, the exotic black flecks within holding the light. Lifting his hand, he placed it on her hip. Sliding his finger under her loosening robe, tenderly stroking the soft skin.

"Why are you in my house?" He whispered, Oh, so softly.

"It's mine," She snapped. Certainly, the woman was delusional, "you're coming with me to the manager, afterward to the police." She demanded, narrowing her eyes at him before sliding out the door.

He needed a drink.

* * *

Fear was a shackle, fear was a knife in the gut slowly twisted, fear was a constant hammer on the head. Yet, fear also evaporated like water under an early summer sun. When fear came to walk with confidence, it became an illusion. That being the hurricane, she passed him a glare with her stormy eyes. She was an illusion.

"I'm sor–"

"Don't," She barked.

"Ma'am, it was a m–"

"Mix-up. Yeah, I got that," She folded her arms whilst cradling the baby in the gap between her arm and chest, "I'd fire the boy if I were you." She turned to her baby who met her eyes with a river of tears.

"My apologies sir," The young man trembled behind the counter under her deadly gaze.

Moving forward, Blackhawk rested his hand on the lad's shoulder, giving it a good ole pat, "Don't sweat it, boy," He grinned.

"Are you kidding me?"

Sighing, he playfully rolled his eyes at the boy before meeting the eyes of the deadly woman, "What?" He asked.

"Waking up in someone's bed and dealing with the wrongdoing of daddy's big boy. All you have to say is, Don't sweat it!" She was practically damaging her larynx.

"You weren't complaining when I ate you out," He smirked, leaning his elbow on the counter, quirking a hip.

She blushed. He noticed the way her eyes darkened. The remembrance of their night of pleasure and the hot patches that he'd left before falling asleep. Heck, it wore her out! Never had she been taken hard and rough. He was like a machine, kept moving with a broken button. He rode her until all energy was sucked out and rejuvenated overnight.

"I want another room," She ordered.

"Sorry Ma'am, we're booked," He gulped.

She turned towards the manager, marching at one step, she gripped her palm around his white-collar, "I can sue you for this if you don't get me one now? I'll beat you black and blue to match these carpets," She sneered, eyes daring the man to decline.

His hands were tightly closed around the cold surface. Pupils dilated and mouth gaped, "There's really noth–"

With one move, she clenched her fist ready for action. Before her soft fist met his jaw, Blackhawk caught the woman's arm and pulled her back. Her head snapped towards him, her eyes were dark and deadly. He stepped away, hands up in defense whilst he suppressed a grin. The woman was too damn entertaining. He fed off of her anger.

"What am I going to do now?" She murmured, glancing at her life in her arms. He needed more than a thin wooden box to shield him from the cold world.

Witnessing her fear, Blackhawk moved towards her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. He was a drug. One-touch and his intoxication were instant. His arms then wrap around her back and in one gentle pull their skin touched. He was dangerous. Yet, she couldn't help but want to tame him. Their bodies fit together as if it were made for each other.

"Stay with me," He said, walking on thin ice.

Glancing up at him, "No," She deadpanned.

"Quit being stubborn and do it for the sake of him," He nodded his head down at the yawning baby.

"He has no say in this. He's perfectly fine."

"Do you really wanna live off the street? To beg for shelter from mommy and daddy?" He taunted.

"They're in California."

"Exactly, live with me."

Expanding her lungs, she sucked in a mass of oxygen, "Why? I don't know you," She sighed.

"I don't let no woman rot." He raised his brow.

"What's the exchange?"

Smirking, he said, "Keep my bed warm."