Rather: The Therapist (The Grey List Book 2)

by Grey Huffington

Cream – Vanilla Yellow – Gender Play Red – Romance (Domestic Roles, including S/D) Black – BDSM

“There are forty-seven niggas here, tonight, baby. I ain’t the one.”

My favorite line in the book i was cracking up

Selfishly, I wholeheartedly believed not every woman should have access to me. And, not every woman deserved it. Not my time, energy, or dick. Those were valuables I’d given and been burned in the process. The experience had left me with a precious gift, but it came with stipulations, trauma, and heartache.

A man with standards! Yassss

Femininity was the most sacred, unprotected aspect of a woman and I loved that shit dearly. It enhanced my masculinity. Made me wiser. Stronger. Better in every way possible.

While others despised the idea of marriage, companionship, and lifelong commitments, I craved them and everything that came with them.

She was stunning. She was exactly what I’d been missing every day and every night. She embodied womanhood so well. My attraction to it, at least.

When the work day ends and the sun settles, I want to shed myself of those responsibilities. All responsibilities. Give them to someone else. Give myself to someone else.”

“Two rules,” I began, “Never, and I mean never, get too far removed from reality that you don’t remember you’re a prize. You’re the prize. And, I’m lucky to have you here. Your presence is a gift, my dear. One I will treasure in spite of everything else. Understood?”

A gusher. My world was complete at once.

Kofi, we hated to even claim that nigga and still wondered why my stepmother and father decided to have the nigga.

Where the fuck are you? I questioned. And, why the fuck aren’t you right here? Right now? With me?

Okay Genuwine is pressed lol

Women’s femininity is a direct reflection of the masculine energy that surrounds them.

The woman who tattooed her pussy on my face and stitched the scent of her pussy in my brain is marrying my little brother in ninety days. No, nigga. I’m not okay. I’m losing my shit.

“You asked why you hadn’t seen me. I’ve been on my period.”

“Hear me well when I say don’t ever let that stop you again. I’m not a law abiding citizen, Rose. I run red lights.”

Her words were therapeutic. Her presence was analeptic. Her pussy was medicinal.

Like a magnet, I was drawn to her. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Denial wasn’t enough to deter me anymore. She was quickly becoming the center of my world. Her absence only intensified the feelings that were birthing instead of burying them.

Wherever she wanted me, wherever she needed me was exactly where I wanted to be.

“I missed you. I miss you. All the time.”

“My days almost feel pointless when you’re not part of them.”

want to kiss you deeply. See your handsome face. Touch your dark, flawless skin. Tell you things I’ve been doing… been thinking. Listen to your heart as it beats against my ear. Hug away your worries and patch your wounds.

The call ended without notice. I fell back onto the cushion of the couch, unable to contain the explosion in my chest. My heart raced wildly, galloping like a horse at the Kentucky Derby.

“You’re like–” I paused, taking a second to catch my breath. “Warm tea on a winter’s night. Like honey glaze on homemade butter biscuits. Like the stillness after the storm that lets everyone affected know things are okay now that you’re here.”

“Like ointment one slathers over their burned, bruised, or bitten skin. Like a love song. The kind they recorded in the eighties and nineties. Like a fresh face after a day in the brutal sun. Like lavender buds in cold water. Like light. Like warmth. Like comfort.”

“I’ve been trying to consume you in small doses, so afraid I’ll overdose.”

I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to listen. I simply wanted her in my space.

“You’re the only person with the ability to stop it. You’re my peace. I don’t want anything, Rather. I don’t have anything to say. I just need you near.”

“It’s you. And until I find the strength to forget the magic we created, it’ll always be you. Please don’t apologize to me for being a man, Priest. If you’re going to apologize for something, let it be the fact that you can’t be my man.”

“The woman you’re marrying today, I’m in love with her. And, I’m not talking the kind that fades over time. I’m talking utterly obsessed. I’m talking willing to give up my seat at the head of the table and possibly tarnish the relationship I have with every member in my family.” “The kind that keeps you up at night. The kind that makes you want her every hour of every day. The kind that is in your soul. The kind that lives deep in your bones. The kind that spreads like cancer. The kind that won’t allow you to stand beside your brother as he vows to love her forever because you already do.”

“Thing is, that’ll be the first and last time you slide up in my shit. That’ll also be the last time you mention it. Because, it’s not my feelings that you’re hurting. It’s your pride.”

Period

“Rather’s heart is no playground, Priest,” he began, “I expect you to fulfill the obligations of the arrangement and pay her accordingly. But more than the money she’ll receive, the love she receives better be greater than any love the world has ever known or I will turn over every bead of soil in the world to find you. There won’t be a rock you can hide under and I can’t get to you.”

life was shitty without you. You’ve managed to bring me purpose, peace, and a newfound sense of priority. I’m ready to wake up to you every morning. I’m ready to wrap you in the covers every night. I’m ready to dig into the corny ass Romance novels you love so much. I’m ready for coffee in the morning. I’m ready for countless dates.”

“I’m ready for extra shampoo bottles in the shower. I’m ready for around the clock therapy from the best therapist in the fucking world. I’m ready to run your bath after a long day. I’m ready to build. And, more than anything, I’m ready to give my son the mother he deserves. But, first, I need to know if you’re willing to take a chance on us and meet me at the altar.”

was ready the day I met you.”