I Do Love You Still Read online

  Also by Mary B. Morrison

  Head Games

  The Crystal Series

  Baby, You’re the Best **Just Can’t Let Go ** The One I’ve Waited For

  If I Can’t Have You Series

  If I Can’t Have You ** I’d Rather Be with You ** If You Don’t Know Me

  Soulmates Dissipate Series

  Soulmates Dissipate ** Never Again Once More

  He’s Just a Friend ** Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top

  Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This ** When Somebody Loves You Back

  Darius Jones

  The Honey Diaries Series

  Sweeter Than Honey ** Who’s Loving You ** Unconditionally Single Darius Jones

  She Ain’t the One (coauthored with Carl Weber)

  Maneater (anthology with Noire)

  The Eternal Engagement

  Justice Just Us Just Me

  Who’s Making Love

  Mary HoneyB Morrison

  Dicks Are Dumb: A Woman’s Guide to Choosing the Right Man

  Never Let a Man Come First: A Female’s Guide to Understanding Male

  Behavior

  Mary B. Morrison writing as HoneyB

  Sexcapades ** Single Husbands ** Married on Mondays

  The Rich Girls’ Club

  Presented by Mary B. Morrison

  Diverse Stories: From the Imaginations of Sixth Graders

  (an anthology of fiction written by thirty-three sixth graders)

  I DO LOVE YOU STILL

  MARY B. MORRISON

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  CHAPTER 1 - Xena

  CHAPTER 2 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 3 - Xena

  CHAPTER 4 - Xena

  CHAPTER 5 - Xena

  CHAPTER 6 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 7 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 8 - Xena

  CHAPTER 9 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 10 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 11 - Xena

  CHAPTER 12 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 13 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 14 - Xena

  CHAPTER 15 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 16 - Xena

  CHAPTER 17 - Xena

  CHAPTER 18 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 19 - Xena

  CHAPTER 20 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 21 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 22 - Xena

  CHAPTER 23 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 24 - Xena

  CHAPTER 25 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 26 - Xena

  CHAPTER 27 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 28 - Xena

  CHAPTER 29 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 30 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 31 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 32 - Xena

  CHAPTER 33 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 34 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 35 - Xena

  CHAPTER 36 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 37 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 38 - Xena

  CHAPTER 39 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 40 - Xena

  CHAPTER 41 - Xena

  CHAPTER 42 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 43 - Xena

  CHAPTER 44 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 45 - Xena

  CHAPTER 46 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 47 - Xena

  CHAPTER 48 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 49 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 50 - Xena

  CHAPTER 51 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 52 - Xena

  CHAPTER 53 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 54 - Xena

  CHAPTER 55 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 56 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 57 - Xena

  CHAPTER 58 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 59 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 60 - Xena

  CHAPTER 61 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 62 - Xena

  CHAPTER 63 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 64 - Xena

  CHAPTER 65 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 66 - Tina-Love

  CHAPTER 67 - Xena

  CHAPTER 68 - Memphis

  CHAPTER 69 - Xena

  Discussion Questions

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  DAFINA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2019 by Mary B. Morrison

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number: 2019932241

  Dafina and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-1087-1

  ISBN-10: 1-4967-1087-8

  First Kensington Hardcover Edition: August 2019

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-1090-1 (ebook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4967-1090-8 (ebook)

  To my family

  Jesse Byrd, Jr. and Emaan Abbass

  Wayne Morrison

  Andrea Morrison

  Derrick Morrison

  Regina Morrison

  Margie Rickerson

  Debra Noel

  Heidi Abbass

  Julie Brown

  Princess Cole

  Julien Edward Brown Perry

  and

  KingMaxB (our Yorkie)

  In Loving Memory

  Elester Noel

  Joseph Henry Morrison

  Elizabeth Morrison

  Acknowledgments

  I thank God for every breath I take, each morning I awaken to a new day, the words I write, novels I complete, and the steps I take along my journey of elevation and appreciation. At times, we know that life can be difficult.

  I pray for all Americans. My heart goes out to parents separated from their children; Puerto Ricans who were treated as though you were not US citizens at a time when you needed your country the most; Californians who lost loved ones, pets, and possessions in raging wildfires; Texans, Floridians, and North and South Carolinians struggling to start over after natural disasters. The countless individuals who never imagined their daughter, son, husband, wife, sister, brother, cousin, best friend, or teacher would not return to them after a concert, school day, night out at a club or shopping at the mall. I can’t profess to know your pain, but I do say unto each of you, I am sorry those things happened. To African-Americans senselessly and shamelessly killed by officers, my spirit is flooded with sorrow and outrage.

  The wiser I become, the more I appreciate the people I meet unexpectedly, my friends, fans, and family.

  My son, Jesse Byrd, Jr., is a fantastic award-winning author of children’s books. You can visit his website at www.JesseBCreative.com. Jesse resides in Dubai with his beautiful wife, Emaan Byrd, a corporate executive for Huda Beauty and a celebrity on Huda Boss. I want to travel like you guys!

  There are countless spectacular human beings in the world worthy of recognition and praise. I am fortunate to share the same birth mother with Wayne, Andrea, Derrick, and Regina Morrison, Margie Rickerson, and Debra Noel.

  To my nieces and nephews: Rachelle Davis, Lauren Davis, Dr. Angela Davis, Dr. Rose Rowden, Omar Gant, Anissa and Dezi Rickerson, Janard, Christina, Marianna, Derrianna, Derrianne, JoVante, Joseph, Eulalia, and Roland (my nephew-son) Morrison, I am proud of each of you.

  As always, a special thanks to my editor, Selena James, Steve Zacharius, Adam Zacharius, Josh
Gordon, and everyone at Kensington Publishing Corporation for supporting my literary career.

  Kendall Minter, Kenneth P. Norwick, and Alan S. Clarke (my attorneys), Claudia Menza and Andrew Stuart (my agents), Tiffany Irene and Christal Jordan (my publicists), I don’t know what I’d do without your support.

  McDonogh #35 Senior High Roneagles Class of 1982, bay-bay #WeRock4Life.

  I’m honored to be included in the Worldstar Hit Radio family. John Williams, I can never repay you for gifting me the HoneyB Morrison Show. Marcus Lamar, I love you for producing my episodes. Grenard Smith, your assistance is appreciated. Colonel Cassandra Guy, I salute you, girlfriend, for believing in me. Looking forward to reading your book.

  Wishing each of my readers peace and prosperity in abundance. Visit me online at MaryMorrison.com. Sign up for my newsletter and invite your friends to do the same. Follow me on: Instagram@MaryHoneyBMorrison; Facebook @TheRealMaryB; Twitter Snapchat @CelebHoneyB; and WorldstarHitRadio.com.

  There’s always one true love that drifts away but is never forgotten.

  CHAPTER 1

  Xena

  Silence gave sound to the voice inside my mind.

  Rolling onto my side, I lay in bed facing the open window. Curtains flapped, whipping a summer breeze that brushed my naked body as though I was its canvas. I inhaled the warm air. I didn’t want to be here.

  Why was I living with one man, knowing I was still in love with my ex? Exhaling, I turned onto my back, bent my knees, placed my feet flat on the mattress, then stared into the darkness of the bedroom.

  Remember why you left him, Xena. I know. But I don’t want to be here.

  In the beginning, I was happy with my new guy. Doubling back to a former boyfriend, I’d never done that. After all the shit my ex had put me through, I should hate him. I really wanted to, but . . . what had I proven by trying to hurt him the way he’d done me?

  I touched my stomach. God knew my aching heart was filled with love for my ex and repentance for what I’d done. Couldn’t stop thinking about it or missing him. Doubted he’d take me back if I told him the truth of why I’d left him.

  4:50 a.m.

  A familiar hand caressed my breast. I scooted, hips first, to the edge of the queen-size mattress. Closing the gap between us, he hugged my waist, pulled me toward him. I resumed my previous position. Stared toward the ceiling fan that clicked each time it rotated.

  Leaning in, he sucked my nipple. Didn’t deny it felt good. My breaths became shallow, wishing it was my ex.

  “Not now,” I said, facing him, trying to assume a fetal position to create space between him and my parts I knew he wanted to access.

  Dragging me closer to the middle of the bed, he crawled on top of me, began licking my areolas. His hand massaged my B-cups, then he twisted my nipple with his fingertips. I didn’t want to enjoy his touch right now, but my body could not deny the percolating energy circulating throughout my chakras.

  Pop. Crackle. Pop. Noises emanated from the settling of his old colonial home, recently renovated on the inside.

  He used his knee to spread my thighs, then penetrated me. Our morning ritual had begun. Squeak. Headboard. Squeak. Frame. His hips thrust back and forth. No side to side, figure eight, or round and round clockwise followed by counterclockwise the way my last boyfriend used to do.

  Our music was the chorus of a love ballad. I liked my current. I had done a good job of separating the sexual act from my feelings for him.

  Closing my eyes, I squeezed my vaginal muscles supertight, pretending he was my ex. Shallow breaths deepened into a soft “haaa,” as I exhaled into orgasm number one.

  “That’s my girl. Let it out,” he said. Bracing himself on his forearms, he paused, then he sexed me in slower motion. “Give me another one.”

  The stimulation inside my pussy intensified. I released a bigger climax. For me. Not him.

  “Don’t hold back, baby. Give me all of my sweet juices,” he moaned, shifting his mouth toward mine.

  Quickly I pivoted in the opposite direction as he kept stroking. In and out.

  “Kiss me, baby.” This time he slid his tongue from my cheek to my lips—trailing saliva—then forced it inside . . . lizard-style.

  Lust transitioned into frustration with each probe. He was never a good kisser. I cleared my mind. Focused on my task list for the day to calm myself.

  Meditate. Go to the market. Meet my contract deadline for our client.

  5:05 a.m.

  His dick moved back and forth, all five inches in, then all the way out. Lightly he circled the tip of his penis at my opening, glided back in, pulled out. Entering me again, he poked my G-spot. Couldn’t lie. Our sex was never wild, but he always made me wet.

  Imagining he was my ex, I pulled my boyfriend’s ass to me, hugged his shoulders, started groaning loud. “Ah, yes.” I told him, “Go deeper inside me, baby.” With my ex, I wouldn’t have to ask.

  “Um-hmm. I love you so.” Abruptly his words ended midsentence, then he asked, “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

  Nice of him to ask, but he didn’t have the proper equipment to inflict vaginal pain. The lump in my abdomen hadn’t gotten larger, but it’d been there for almost a year. I shook my head in response to his question. The doctor said it was a fibroid tumor, and that it didn’t need to be removed. Nor would the lump prevent me from conceiving.

  Escaping into a fantasy of one of the best lovemaking session with my ex, I visualized his long girthy shaft snaking up the walls of my vagina. The opening of his penis moved about the depth of my pussy as though it were a searchlight looking for my soul. I’d pretend to hide my pleasure point, and he wouldn’t stop fucking the shit out of me until he made me scream soprano . . . I missed him so much. Instantly my pussy became hot and my juices flowed like a waterfall for my current boyfriend. I tilted my pelvis up, granting him total access to Niagara.

  5:12 a.m.

  “You’re making me cum early,” he said, then added, “You ready?” Delving to his max, inches shy of reaching my cul-de-sac, my new boyfriend froze.

  Suddenly his ass jerked backward. Squeak. He paused. Thrusting forward, he paused again. Squeak. One. Two. Back. Forth. His rhythm grew closer, becoming one continuous motion until he and the squeaking came to a stop. I felt his throbbing shaft, then he collapsed on top of me. His accelerated heartbeat pounded against my breasts.

  5:16 a.m.

  After rolling him onto his side of the bed, I pulled the spread up to my neck, stared toward the ceiling. Lying next to my current, not a day went by where I didn’t miss my ex.

  Was Memphis in a relationship? Had he forgotten about me? Did he crave spooning me the way I longed to cuddle with him? Trying to convince myself I’d made the right decision to break up with him, I told Adonis, “I love you, baby.” My head understood what my man needed to hear. My heart knew the truth.

  Lifting the plush yellow comforter away from my naked body, I scooted away from Adonis, sat on the edge of the bed, gazed over my shoulder.

  I didn’t choose him. On our first date at Paula Deen’s Creek House, he’d told me he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend; he wanted a wife. I wasn’t in search of a husband. Desperate, I had to get out of my mom’s house. Didn’t want to move in with my best friend, Tina-Love. Her pussy had a revolving door. Men came and went. None of them stayed.

  Adonis was considerate, generous, and in love with me. From day one I allowed things to be his way. Sighing, I pivoted in his direction, touched his face, traced the front of his neatly trimmed hairline. The dark hairs of his crown had started to thin. The softness of his beard against my fingertips flowed to a mustache that arched over supple red lips, which had greeted mine each day since we’d met a year ago.

  Every day I told myself to stop reliving my past, each time I replayed the reel of my walking out of Memphis’s house into my mother’s. In less than a week I was out of my parents’ place, and into Adonis’s apartment building. Planting a kiss on Adonis’s forehead as
he snored deeper and louder, Please, don’t leave me, Z, I’ll be back in Savannah twelve months tops echoed in my mind.

  Not wanting to ruin the biggest opportunity of his lifetime, I’d made a unilateral decision. Aborting my ex’s baby without telling him we were pregnant was wrong. I knew that.

  CHAPTER 2

  Memphis

  “I know you have to leave, baby, but I wish you could stay with me a little longer,” she professed, trailing kisses along my spine.

  She was a sexy motherfucker. First time I saw her I knew straight up I was going to fuck the shit out her. Thin lips. Deep throat. Long wavy blond hair. Ice-blue irises. Tall. Six feet. Perfect size ten. Former high school volleyball Hall of Famer, she’d broken the record for the most game-winning spikes during her four years on the team.

  Time was almost up for me here on the West Coast. All I wanted was to get back to the South and confront Xena regarding our unfinished business. I had to know the real reason why she broke it off. Tina-Love pretended Xena hadn’t told her.

  Yeah, right.

  I lay facedown across the massage table Natalie had bought me, fixated on my ex. I’d been nothing but good to her for five years. A brotha had recently turned legal when I’d met Z but the fact that Z—my nickname for Xena—was five years older and salivating ova me kept my dick pointing north every day we were together. An athlete like me could have my choice female. But I wasn’t average in any department. Also, I wasn’t perfect.

  Telling Natalie the same thing Z had told me the day Z walked out of my life, I replied, “You’ll be all right.” Not certain about my future, not caring about hers.