“It’s gorgeous,” I said hesitantly, then turned to look at him with suspicion. “Why are you asking us?”
“We’ll go inside and take a look around,” he said as he took Corinne by the hand. She latched onto him tightly, a strong indication that her feelings were growing deep.
Just like mine.
“Whose house is this?” I asked as I followed them up to the door.
“Ours,” he said casually as we walked up the steps of the porch. “If you like it, that is.”
“Ours?” I asked hoarsely, my throat having gone dry.
Jerico turned around, Corinne with him. She stared up at me as he brought his hands to her shoulders, and he said, “Trista… you’re it for me. And Corinne is yours, so I want us all to be together.”
It’s true. Corinne is mine. It’s another thing Jerico facilitated quite easily once I was able to reach Danielle and have a heart to heart with her. It took about five conversations, but Danielle eventually asked me to take custody of Corinne and I agreed. Jerico got the paperwork done within a month, and she was officially mine.
Well… she’s ours, like Jerico said.
It’s my hope that one day Danielle will realize what she’s lost and hopefully try to have some type of relationship with her daughter, but only time will tell.
Corinne, Jerico, and I moved into that massive home four months ago, and I couldn’t be happier. My mom lives just twenty minutes from us, Corinne is healthy, moderately happy, and doing well in school, and I have a job I love. And to put the perfect icing on the perfect cake, I have Jerico and he loves me.
“Corinne is fine,” I tell him firmly. “Mom has everything in hand. This is your big night and you should celebrate. And because it’s your night, we’re going to do whatever you want to do. If you want to take me to The Deck and fuck me, I’m yours. If you want to go home, get in our pajamas, and watch TV in between hovering over Corinne, I’m yours as well. Just tell me how you want me.”
Jerico’s eyes go soft as he looks at me. “I love you. I want you any way I can get you.”
“You can get me any way you want me,” I tell him with a smirk. “And I love you too.”
“Let’s go home,” he says as he turns me toward the elevator door. “It’s too crowded here tonight. Home sounds nicer.”
Jerico’s arm slips around my waist, and we walk slowly through the crowd. I think about cuddling on the couch with him, munching popcorn and watching an old black-and-white movie. I like that idea better too.
“However,” he says as he leans to the side and murmurs, “I intend to take advantage of you not wearing panties before we get those pajamas on.”
Yes, home sounds like a better idea, indeed.