Page 3 of Just Listen
“Nah.” I shook my head. “Not without getting your man’s number. You slipping already.”
“My man?” She tilted her head. “I thought you were my husband?”
No cap…hearing her say that made my dick hard. Instantly. “I will be,” I declared. “But first, let’s start with us chopping it up. Can I get a minute of your time?”
“Umm…” She seemingly contemplated, while folding her arms over her breasts, and shivering a bit. “I don’t know. It’s pretty cold out here and I was just about to hop in her car.” She pointed at the high yellow partner.
“I mean, I already got the heat going in my truck.” I pointed back at the Rover. “We can sit in there for a second, if your girls don’t mind.”
Her eyes traveled to her partners. Meanwhile, the partners were studying me.
“Don’t try no weird shit, nigga,” the yellow bone warned. “Cause these aint the type of problems you want. I’m telling you.”
I smirked, listening to her talk that gangsta shit, with that ultra soft outer appearance. “I hear you, Gangsta Boo.” I reached out and brazenly grabbed Big Baby’s soft hand. “Come on, wifey. Let’s talk,” I coaxed, while guiding her to my truck. With absolutely no objection from her.
Holding her hand like I’d known her forever, I took in her sweet scent. Even with those tall heels on those boots, I still towered over her, with my 6’4 stature. So, I was gazing down at her, trying to find a flaw. Amazingly, she was finer up-close and personal.
Being a gentleman, I opened the passenger’s door and allowed her to slide in, before jogging around to the driver’s side. After hopping in, I shut the door to warm up.
“Okay.” She smiled, as she glanced around my ride. “I see you got the new-new.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “So…” I reached over and grabbed her hand again. “So, tell me. What’s mywife’sname?”
“Hmm…” She hummed, causing her dimples to anchor into her cheeks. “Keisha.”
I chuckled. “Why does it sound like you bullshitting?”
“Cause,” she giggled. “My name is irrelevant tonight. So, let me be whoever.”
My eyes scanned over her. “What you gotta hide?”
“Nothing.” She bit the corner of her lip. “What’s your name?”
I licked my lips, while stroking the back of her hand with my thumb. “I’m Malice.”
Her eyes widened. “Malice? The fuck you be doing to have a name like that?”
I lightly laughed. “I can’t call it. The people around me sometimes gets nervous when shit gets sticky. They say that I be doing this or that. But I bet if they’re with me, then they’ll always make it home in one piece.”
“Damn,shooter. It’s like that?” She kidded.
I shrugged. “So they say.”
“I hear you—” She got out, before her cell lit up and rang.
I watched her lift the phone and silence the call.
I gave her the side eye. “That was your nigga?”
“How, if I’m married to you?” She hooded her eyes, letting me know that she was quick on her feet.
I lightly chuckled, as her cell rang again. “Damn, they really wanna get ahold of you, huh?”
“Yeah, you know how it is, when you’re a hot commodity.” She playfully shimmied her shoulders.
Tucking my lips into my mouth, my mind told me that she was probably a stripper. Especially since she didn’t wanna tell me her name…and was so magnetic. Had the type of energy that could sell salt to a snail. Real smooth, player type shit. A finesser.
“Something is telling me that you’s a lot to handle,” I commented.
