Yet there was little doubt in Dixyn’s mind that she had chosen the right man not only to be her mate, but to conceive her child with. Her daughter was well taken care of and Dixyn was more than thankful for that, especially with all the baby-daddy nonsupport drama that some of her girlfriends from high school were currently experiencing. Bryce had no other children, so there was no crazy other baby mama, there were no thirsty tricks calling him at all times of the night, and, as far as she knew, Bryce never stepped out on her. And if he did, he sure hid it well. All Dixyn knew was that he loved her. She felt it. He showed and proved it in special ways, all the time.
Aside from all the material possessions he showered her with, nothing quite comforted Dixyn like Bryce’s presence. Dixyn agonized over his absence whenever one of his trips out of town kept him away from home for more than the allotted time. In the darkness of her room, on her loneliest nights, Dixyn cried for Bryce, longed for his touch, and she always prayed for his swift and safe return.
Now Bryce glanced down at the speedometer and eased off the gas pedal. He hadn’t realized he was going so fast. With the limited visibility and vast amount of falling rain, these were extreme weather conditions. To avoid hydroplaning on the slick highway, Bryce exercised some common sense. He wanted to arrive home just as he had left: in one piece. As the vehicle gradually slowed down, Bryce cautiously maneuvered the SUV into the right lane, preparing to exit off the highway.
Dixyn took the initiative to break the tension that had built up inside the car. She reached over and gently squeezed Bryce’s muscular arm. Her touch conveyed more than words ever could. It said, You won; I don’t want to fight anymore.
Wisely, Bryce decided to let it go. He knew the best part of being with Dixyn was coming home and going to bed with her. He knew if he pressed the issue any further it would mess up the mood. Dixyn wouldn’t sex him to the best of her abilities. Even worse, he might have to sleep on the couch.
“I’m sorry, babe,” she said affectionately. “You still mad at me?”
Before he could respond, a small grin creased his lips. This expression seemed to say it all. It communicated to Dixyn all that she needed to know. “Nah, I was just sayin’ . . .” Bryce began in his heavy New York accent. “Sometimes, ma, you gotta listen to the kid. I be knowin’ what I’m talkin’ about. Facts! We both know how you can be, though. You want what you want, when you want it, regardless of the circumstances surrounding the situation.”
It was Dixyn’s turn to smile. Bryce understood her all too well. At times when they fussed and fought, Bryce referred to her as a big baby, and she agreed. She knew this character flaw was unwomanly. While she had tried to change, she just couldn’t. It was who she was: spoiled. Her entire life her mother had given in to her. Being the only child raised in a single-parent household, Dixyn grew up with the misconception that she could go through life always getting her way. Bryce was guilty to a degree of facilitating this by spoiling his woman with expensive gifts. But, of course, she would never see it like that.
“Babe, look, I know I can be on my bullshit at times. But whenever I get a chance to be with you, I’m going to take it. I don’t care what the circumstances are. I don’t care if the world is coming to an end. Let me be right here with you when it does, and if I die, I’ll know I died happy.” Dixyn Greene was a hopeless romantic. When it came to true love, she was a believer. She stood firm in her belief that she had found her soul mate in Bryce. The connection she felt from the moment they met still existed to this day, despite their occasional disagreements.
“Wow,” Bryce managed to say. He was blown away by Dixyn’s sincerity. How could he knock her just for wanting to be with him? What man in his right mind could? Bryce was overcome by a warm fuzzy feeling inside—it was good to know that his woman wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. At that moment, words couldn’t express how he felt for Dixyn. Bryce took his eyes off the road long enough to quickly admire her. He had run through many women in his day but, he had to admit, he had lucked out when he got with Dixyn.
They were from two different worlds. Bryce hailed from the rough-and-tumble concrete jungle of New York City. His Harlem neighborhood served as an incubator for drug dealers, spawning some of the most notorious in the city. Dixyn was from suburban Virginia, unaccustomed to the fast lane. She wasn’t about that life. Her naïveté to the street life played a major part in his initial attraction. Opposites attract—bad boy from the bright lights and big city, and the good, wholesome suburban girl. The two met by chance while Bryce was on a shopping spree at a local mall and they immediately clicked. They had been inseparable ever since.
Dixyn was everything he wanted his wifey to be. She was an incredible mother, a straight-up freak where he needed her to be, and she was absolutely beautiful. Dixyn had a natural prettiness which other women envied. She hardly ever wore makeup; she didn’t need it. He liked that. Everything about her was real, from her hair and nails to her breasts and ass and, above all, her character. Dixyn was the only female Bryce had ever really loved, the only woman he was even remotely faithful to. She had a good heart. She was trusting, almost too trusting at times, naive to the games of the trifling broads always sniffing around her, the ones she called friends—the same ones who sometimes made passes at her man.
Her childhood best friend Kendra was the main culprit—the two had recently gotten back in touch with one another and Kendra would often make inappropriate comments about Bryce. She was just too loose when it came to sex. She was in love with a new guy every other week, constantly giving up the pussy. Dixyn made it a point to never discuss her relationship with Bryce, sexual or otherwise, with Kendra. True, Kendra played an important role in her life, but relationship counselor wasn’t part of it. As good as Kendra looked, Dixyn never understood why she couldn’t get a decent man. Her life was a never-ending cycle of bad relationships, one after another.
“Must be nice,” Bryce blurted out to break the silence.
“What?”
“Always getting ya way.” He smiled.
In response, Dixyn playfully punched Bryce in the arm. She liked his sense of humor. He could be a clown when he wanted to be. Dixyn rested her hand on Bryce’s inner thigh and slowly massaged through his jeans until she reached his erection. “It’s on when we get home, baby,” she joked as she worked to unzip his jeans. “I want to show you how much I love you.” Dixyn gently released Bryce’s manhood and tenderly kissed the tip. “And how much I missed you.” She used her tongue to tease the length of his hardness. “How much I love you,” she whispered before taking his fullness into her mouth.
Bryce was so overcome by the strong warm sensation that he almost forgot he was driving. “Chill, you gon’ make me crash my whip.”
Dixyn came up from her bowed position in his lap and smiled wickedly. “I’ma fuck the shit out of you when we get home!”
By the time the couple arrived at home, the rain had subsided. The glow from the moonlit sky illuminated the path to their driveway. Instinctively, Bryce surveyed his surroundings. His eyes scoured the area for would-be intruders or anything else that seemed out of place. Bryce was security-conscious. He could never be rocked to sleep by the slow country atmosphere of the suburbs. He treated every day as if danger abounded.
Satisfied that nothing was out of the ordinary, Bryce pressed a button on the Range Rover’s sun visor that activated the two-car garage door, revealing one empty space and Dixyn’s BMW X6. As soon as the Range Rover crossed the garage’s threshold, Bryce hit the button again and the door closed behind them.
When the couple entered the house, the home security alarm sounded. Bryce rushed over to the keypad and punched in a code, switching the alarm into a home mode, which meant that the couple was free to wander about the house, but that if any doors or windows were breached, it would chime again.
Bryce entered the living room and walked over to his well-stocked minibar. He grabbed a bottle of Hennessy cognac, his drink of choice, from the bottom shelf and followed Dixyn upstairs into the bedroom. Bryce removed the top and took a hard gulp. Although he was accustomed to drinking Hennessy straight, the burning sensation made him grimace. Regardless, he took another long swig, followed by another.