Show and Tell by Niobia Bryant Page A

with the high water jeans and dirty no-name sneakers wishing her wealthy parents would swoop in and rescue her from a life of poverty and no heritage. A piece of me wants to make everything right. Restore order. Set it all straight.
    With one last check of my appearance, I swallow down the last of my champagne and leave the bathroom to get back to the party.

Chapter Seventeen
    Moët
    T onight I am on a mission.
    Cristal has hooked me up with an attorney, a Helen Jacobsen, from the firm where she works. I have an appointment with her tomorrow. She’s supposed to be one of the best attorneys in the tristate area . . . so at least for tonight Tiffany is safely asleep in her crib in my bedroom. For the first time since I got those papers, I feel like I have the will to fight for—and win—custody of my daughter.
    I had to testify for the first time in family court about the background and emotional stability of a child ordered to testify against her mother in a neglect case. My supervisor praised me for my performance and we believe the judge’s decision not to let the child testify was mainly due to that. So work—for now—is a non-issue.
    My sister, Latrece, called complaining about my parents’ not letting her join the debate team because it would mean her having to travel out of town sometimes. I called them and gently suggested loosening the strings a bit or they would lose her. They compromised and said she could join and attend all local events but anything out of town would have to be supervised by my mom. It’s not much but it’s something. Family drama handled? Check.
    My friends are getting along. In fact, Alizé, Moët, and Dom are out enjoying a movie, dinner, and of course . . . drinks. Another check on my “things to worry about” list.
    Tonight? Tonight is all about handling my personal life. Taking it to the next level.
    Ding-dong .
    I check my appearance in the mirror and for one second I doubt myself. Am I wrong?
    I leave my bedroom and walk across the plush carpeting in the rhinestone stilettos I borrowed from Dom. They were from her “Juicy” days and just what I needed for tonight. With one last lick to my lips, I open the door and try to look my sexiest.
    Taquan’s eyes travel from my soft curled hair to my elaborately made up face. I bite my bottom lip a little bit before his eyes drop down to take in the sheer pink teddy I’m wearing.
    He swallows over a lump in his throat and suddenly shoves his hands into the pockets of his vintage jeans. “Jesus,” he says huskily before he averts his eyes.
    I reach out and take his hand to pull him in. He resists. “Taquan, come here,” I order him softly. He relents.
    His mouth is moving and his eyes are focused on the ceiling as I pull him behind me to push down onto the couch. It’s not until I try to straddle his hips that I realize he is praying. Good grief.
    I lean forward to wrap my arms around his neck and he brings his hands up to block me. His hands accidentally touch my breasts and I feel his dick jump inside his pants. “Taquan, please,” I beg shamelessly. I haven’t had sex since the night I told Bones I was pregnant. That was over a year ago. Oh, choir boy gone give me some. Shoot.
    I reach for his dick and he grabs my wrist. I try to wrestle free but of course, he is stronger than me. Shoot, I’m sitting here in a crotchless teddy begging for sex and he isn’t giving in. Look like his will is stronger than mine too.
    â€œJesus, we pray for the strength to resist temptation and rebuke sin,” he prays.
    â€œI know that the flesh is weak, Moët. Trust me I am human and I have . . . needs too but this isn’t right,” he implores me as he looks into my eyes with the utmost seriousness.
    I try to press my breasts closer to his face. His eyes drop down to take in my hard nipples through the sheer material and I don’t miss the little