It's Whatever for You

Shaddy’s up to something.

I mean, he’s always spoiling me, sure, since his love language is acts of service. The way he anticipates my needs and wants… the way he leads our little family… it makes me wanna give him ten kids!

I’ll never tell him that, though.

Mothers will say they don’t remember the pain, or the trauma of childbirth. They only remember seeing their baby.

Not I, said the cat!

I remember bleeding out and passing out with Sadé. I remember missing the epidural deadline, and begging Shaddy to let them tie my tubes while pushing out Mason.

I mean, yes, I love my babies. They’re the lights of my life.

But I’m super, duper cool on ever having any other kids push through my vagíne like she just don’t mean nothing.

So for Shaddy to send me on a very special day of pampering and it’s not my birthday is suspect to say the least. Fresh new sew in. Fire ass full set. Waxed and plucked to perfection, and in a new outfit from his stylist.

What the helly?

As soon as I enter our house, the smell of fresh roses and savory food mix and caress my nostrils.

Blue rose petals line the floor, with a thicker layer leading to our dining room. I’m barely holding my composure as I rush there, where our table is set, Shaddy’s song he dedicated to me is playing low, and my baby daddy is at the head, looking as edible as them lamb chops in front of him.

Shaddy shaved his beard down to only a mustache and goatee, and damn. That’s the only seat I want right now.

But I’m a lady, so I saunter over, and turn my cheek so that he can kiss it when he stands to pull my chair out.

“Quit playing, Mace,” he grumbles, and I bite my lip, knowing I'm affecting him as much as he’s affecting me.

I take my seat and he pushes me in. Before he walks away, his hand collars my throat and he bends down to plaster those juicy lips of his on mine.

“Denying me yo lips. Lost ya damn mind,” he mumbles as he takes his own seat, making me snicker.

Shaddy fixes my plate, loading me up with all the fixings–lamb chops, asparagus, creamed corn, and garlic mashed potatoes. My mouth waters as he places my plate in front of me. “Eat up, bae,” he commands, and I happily oblige.

Whatever he’s up to, he can keep it up.

For a while, it’s just us eating. I lose myself in my meal, moaning and dancing after every bite. This day has been amazing, and shit, whatever Shaddy’s about to ask me, he can get. Even if it’s anal.

I scoop the last bite of mashed potatoes and creamed corn to eat, when Shaddy finally breaks his silence.

“I talked to Miss Mika over the weekend.”

I hold in my eye roll before sticking my fork in my mouth. My mom, Mika, has been on me about becoming an honest woman.

Nevermind her first son was literally a teen dad, and only married his wife to avoid her testifying against him.

I’m the one “living in sin” because I’m too busy being a muva and rapper baby mama to plan a wedding.

“Well, really,” he continues, sipping his wine, “she talked to me. Very sternly. About why I haven’t married the mother of my children. She’s under the impression that I’m running from commitment. Where could she have gotten that from, Mace?”

I run my tongue across my teeth before grinning. “Why, I have no idea, my love. When she bombarded me with those same accusations, I told her the truth.”

“And what’s that?”

I shrug, heat prickling the back of my neck. It’s been quite a while since Shaddy wanted to play these damn mind games. Eyes blank, mouth set in a straight line. Trying to walk me into a trap. 

I used to wonder why Autumn would act like she didn’t want to set Shaddy off. I mean, I've heard the rumors, and listened in on the guys reminisce about the times they were young, wild, and reckless. But I couldn’t see Shaddy as off the chain as Peanuthead or Set.

But Shaddy is a different type of crazy. The mind games he can play. The way he can switch up his whole demeanor at the drop of the hat. Those innocent doe eyes and silky smooth voice are false, I tell ya.

And yet, my defenses are down.

I blame the lamb chops.

He pushes his chair back, and I sigh, but still stand and make my way to him, straddling him at the dinner table.

His strong hands go right to my booty, which unfortunately, never grew as much as I wanted it to. In fact, Mason took most of it away, but I forgave him, since he’s so perfect and sweet.

“What you tell your moms, Mace?”

I finger one of his chains, the one with the picture of his sister Raya. “We not on that right now.”

“And why aren’t we on that, bae? You know I would like nothing more than to see you walking toward me in a light blue, fluffy ass dress.”

I roll my eyes, giggling when he pinches my cheek. He’s rubbed my dress all the way up to my hips, the rough pads of his fingers grazing my skin.

Shaddy has gotten serious about learning guitar, and now all his fingers have musician callouses on them.

I love it.

“Well, my love, we not on that because I want our wedding to be absolutely perfect, the whole day. I’ll need at least a year to plan and execute, especially because I want our children in the wedding in some way, and Mason isn’t even crawling yet.”

Shaddy’s hands leave me and make their way to his fly. I keep my eyes on his as I hear him unbutton his pants. “I get it Mace. I mean, I feel like a perfect wedding is you saying ‘I do,’ but I know I’m a simple man. As long as we on the same page about us being man and wife.”

“Of course we are,” I simper, rubbing my new nails across his durag. “Just like we agree we’re done having kids.”

Shaddy blinks, right before he knocks his rock-hard dick into my pelvis.

When I look down, the one-eyed monster greets me, and I see my dress is all the way to my waist now, with only my lace underwear covering me.

My dress tightens around me as Shaddy knots it at my back.

“We done having kids, Mace?” he asks, tilting his head.

Drool pools in my lower lip. My mind is mush… why don’t I wanna have more kids?

My thong is moved to the side with two of his fingers, while his other index and middle finger begin to strum my clit.

I shake my head hard, tampering down moans to glare at his stupid blank face. “Yes,” I grit.

That’s all I can say, as his fingers slip into my wetness, and begin to get me ready for him.

“So, you mean to tell me,” he drawls, pumping in and out of me ever so slowly, “that we are done having kids? You don’t want no more of my babies, Mace?”

“Shaddy,” I whine, fisting his shirt. My hips move with his fingers as I fight to stick to my guns. “Two is enough. We said–”

His fingers graze my g-spot and my eyes cross. But I still see his lips twitching, the bastard he is.

His fingera leave me, but I only feel empty for a fraction of a second, before his dick takes their place.

We both sigh in contentment as I sink all the way down. He stretches me so good. If I could, I would live the rest of my days with his dick inside of me.

I start grinding my hips, but Shaddy has other plans, standing up and swiping the dishes off the table, onto the floor.

He lays me down on my back, and begins drilling me, his hands digging into my hips.

“Oh, Shaddy,” I mewl when his dick touches a special place only he can get to.

“You don’t love me, bae?”

I shake my head frantically from side to side. “I love you so much!”

“Yeah?” he asks, upping his stroke. My thighs slap obscenely on his as he bottoms out each time he pulls me to him.

“Yes, baby. I do.”

“Then why won’t you gimme anymore kids? Huh?”

“Becauseeeeeeeeee,” I moan, my orgasm building. And dammit, I can’t even think of the reason why anymore.

All I know is bliss. Of practicing to make beautiful babies. Of pregnancy sex up until the day my water broke. Of being pampered and showered with love. Of seeing the physical result of all that love, smiling at me.

“You better hold that fuckin’ nut in while I’m talking to you,” he thunders, and my thighs clench as he leans over me, collaring my neck with his hand.

I open my eyes, locking onto his, and I’m a goner.

“Please,” I whisper, arousal and defeat filling me.

“Please what?” he licks his lips, his strokes slowing down completely, snatching my orgasm with them.

“Shaddy,” I whine.

“Please. What.”

“Let me come,” I cry.

He shrugs, and shallowly thrusts upward. 

“Please, baby, I need it,” I beg.

His lips crash to mine, and I hold him to me, letting him plunder my mouth. He bears his weight down on me, just like I like, and brackets his hands onto my shoulders before he starts back again.

“It’s whatever for you, Mace,” he whispers, so close, the words touch my lips. 

That’s his favorite phrase for me. It’s whatever for me. Anything I could want, it’s mine. Including him.

I could never pick up a paint brush again. I could even decide this isn’t what I want, and it would still be that. He’d still move mountains for me, regardless. 

That type of man, you can’t help but want to give him as many babies as he wants.

That delicious pressure begins to build in my core. I palm the back of his head to keep his gaze on me.

“Come in me,” I breathe.

His face blanks. “I come in you, you having my baby.”

I nod, clenching around his length. “I’ll have as many babies as you want.”

“As we want. How many babies we want, Mace?”

“Five,” I blurt, and just like that, I see five munchkins running around, climbing all over us. “Three more, and then we can get married.”

“You promise?” His thrusts turn vicious, and we’re both right there.

“Yes baby I promise, I promise!”

Shaddy rises all the way up, his lips spreading into a magnificent grin as he grips my hips once more.

“Good. You can come now.”

My eyes roll to the back of my head as I arch off the table, coming hard and long. He slams me onto him, his dick pulsating inside of me, doing the deed I just signed my name to.

Bastard.

But I have no anger in me. Only bliss, and excitement.

Five mini Shaddys and Macys to fill my days with laughter, schemes, and jokes. My heart expands, and when Shaddy eases out of me and picks me up, I wrap around him and bring my lips to his.

“If you really–”

“A promise is a promise, Shaddy,” I interrupt him. “After baby number five, be ready to drop thirty on my mommy makeover.”

He grins, walking us out of the dining room.

“Off top. You know it’s whatever for you.”