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stressed.
    Tylar eyed him. “My unemployed boy,” he returned even as he reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “But it’s for a good cause, so . . .”
    Graham smiled broadly as his father handed him a crisp fifty-dollar bill. “Thanks, Pop,” he said.
    â€œWrap it up. No baby mamas.” Tylar pushed a condom in his hand as well. “You need more?”
    â€œNooo . . . no. I’m good,” he said, pushing the money and protection into his pocket.
    â€œYou ain’t got no choice. Like father, like son,” Tylar said, striking a pose before smoothing his hand over his mouth and chin.
    Graham shifted uncomfortably at the thought of him and his father sexing Ms. Nunez. Like father, like son .
    â€œA’ight. I’m out. Don’t be out too late,” Tylar said, pulling his son close for a quick hug and a brief kiss to his temple. “Love ya.”
    Graham knew that was true. Guilt reigned heavily. His father had plenty of women, and Ms. Nunez was just one of many, but she was still his father’s friend, and no man liked another man pissing on his territory. “Me too,” he answered.
    As soon as the front door closed, Graham walked into the bedroom to enjoy the feel of the air-conditioning. He eyed the disheveled sheets on the bed and opted to sit in the club chair on the other side of the nightstand instead. I’m not lying up in their dried-up sex juices.
    He checked out the window to see if LeLe was back outside before settling in to watch a Martin rerun.
    Knock-knock-knock.
    Frowning, he dropped the remote and left the bedroom headed to the front door. Maybe it’s LeLe or—
    â€œMs. Nunez?” he asked even as he looked at her pushing past him to walk into the house smelling like cigarettes and something fruity. “My dad’s not here.”
    â€œI saw him leave,” she said, turning to face him as she pulled her T-shirt over her head. “I wanted you.”
    Afraid a neighbor would happen down the stairs and see her, he shut the door. “I don’t want you,” he told her, his hand still on the doorknob as he fought—and won—not to look at her breasts.
    â€œLiar,” she said, bending a little to push her pants over her hips and down her legs. “I missed you.”
    Naked, she came across the room and pressed his body against the door with hers. He closed his eyes as she pressed her lips to his neck.
    â€œYou don’t want me?” she asked mockingly as she stroked his hardness and then freed it from his shorts.
    Graham hissed at her touch.
    â€œCome and get this pussy, little boy,” she said, tugging on his dick to lead him behind her into his father’s bedroom.
    Graham followed her, not caring in that moment how she hurt him or that she was leading him to the same bed where she’d lain with his father.

    â€œWhat the fuck is going on here?”
    Graham sat up straight in the bed, his heart pounding from being startled from his sleep.
    â€œDo you need it spelled out for you, Tylar?” Ms. Nunez asked, sounding smug.
    Graham eyed his father standing to the foot of the bed. “Dad—”
    â€œYou mad?” she asked, rising from the bed naked.
    â€œTwo dicks in one day?” Tylar said coldly. “You sore?”
    Graham struggled to rise from the bed, his legs tangled up in the sheets. “Dad—”
    â€œWith all the women you screw, is your dick sore?” Ms. Nunez asked, standing up in Tylar’s face.
    â€œSo this is supposed to be payback?” he asked, waving his hand at the bed. “You picked the wrong one if you think I give a shit about a piece of pussy—a slack-ass piece at that.”
    WHAP.
    Graham’s mouth fell open when she slapped his father. He rushed forward, barely holding the sheet around his waist. He stepped between them.
    â€œDad—”
    â€œGet your slack ass outta here,” Tylar