The Problem with Players (Problem #2)

by Brittainy C. Cherry

Sometimes, I wish I cried more. Maybe it would’ve moved some of the heaviness resting inside me.

“No. I’m the strong one, remember? No one worries about the strong one. The strong one worries about everyone else. We take care of others. We don’t get taken care of.” “I’ll take care of you.”

“Yeah, but baby girl, asking for help doesn’t make you weak. Sometimes asking for help is the strongest thing a person could ever do.”

“You cook?” “For you, yes.” She narrowed her eyes. “What are you going to make?” “Baked ziti and garlic bread.” “Mmm,” she moaned. The sound was enough to make me want to start humping her leg like the needy dog I’d turned into whenever she was near. She could’ve put a collar on me, and I would’ve allowed her to dog-walk me all around town with a smile on my face.

“Shut up before I take off my shoe and throw it at you.” “Don’t stop there,” he urged. “By all means, throw me your panties, too.”

My mouth found the edge of her ear before whispering, “After this, I’ll make love to you, I swear…” I licked her earlobe and bit it. “But first, I’m going to fuck the everlasting shit out of you until you scream my name in cursive.”