Page 11 of Baby, You're My Weakness
The kind that caught you off guard. The kind that made you reassess every decision in your life that led you to him.
He leaned against the doorframe, with one ankle crossed over the other, and his hands stuffed in his pockets.
I never knew grey slacks could look so good. And I'm lowkey mad that he’s got on a turtleneck, because the way hismuscles rippled through it, he’s no doubt covering up something delicious under there. His beard was thick and well-trimmed, like he took his time getting it exactly how he wanted it.
By the growing smirk on his face, he knows damn well how fine he is. My pussy pulsated at the thought of him between my legs. I hurried up and squeezed my thighs together, like somehow, he’ll notice how wet my panties were.
“Miss Wilcox,” he repeated.
I blinked hard, realizing he may have caught me staring at him like a creep.
“Yeah,” I whispered in response, throwing the magazine down. I stood up on shaky legs but hesitated to move my feet.
I hope he’s just here to take me to my real parole officer. I can’t get my life together if I’m in the same room as him multiple times a week. He’s a distraction, one that I didn’t need right now.
“I’m ready for you.” He smiled softly, uncrossing his feet to stand up straight, but kept his hands in his pockets.
I swallowed hard at his statement. Because he may have been ready for me, but I wasn’t ready forthis.
6
LOVE
I hadto keep my goddamn hands in my pockets, so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and touch her. My heart doubled in speed when I turned the corner and saw her sitting there, pretending to read a magazine.
I was mesmerized, my eyes glued to her for longer than a few minutes, but I made sure to stay outta the way of the window. The last thing I needed is Lauren catching on to something she shouldn’t.
Baby looked better than I remembered, and that’s a problem for me. Because I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to work around her now.
The same way I was looking at her, I noticed T. K’s cousin, Tank, in the corner with his eyes locked on her too. He just got home from a ten-year bid for armed robbery and attempted murder. I counted every goddamn star in the sky, lucky as hell he didn’t get assigned to me. He’s bad for business, and ain’t no doubt in my mind he’ll end up back in prison soon. He too fucking money hungry for his own good.
When she stood up, her curves were the first thing I noticed. The way her skin glowed caught my eyes next. I wanted to runmy hand down her arm to see if it was as soft as it looked, which was why I had my hands tucked away right now.
Her brown eyes held an innocence of a girl who hadn't experienced much in life, but ain’t no way that’s true about her, considering what she just went through.
We sized each other up and the way she looked at me with hunger in her eyes, I can tell this attraction ain’t all on me.
I waited until she got close before I turned and walked away. Glancing over my shoulder every now and then, just to make sure she was following me, I noticed how nervous she seemed. But ain’t no reason for her to feel like that. She’ll always be in good hands with me.
I can’t lie. I was hurt knowing she ain’t remember a nigga, because I figured she would’ve caught on by now.
When we made it inside my office, I closed the door for more privacy, then walked around to sit down. She stayed standing, like she was waiting for me to tell her what to do. I had a few ideas, but not one of them muthafuckas were appropriate.
“Have a seat,” I requested, pointing to the chair across from mine.
She averted her eyes to the ground as she sat down. For some reason, I hated that she wouldn’t look my way. I needed her to be in this moment with me, for her to feel everything I'm feeling.
Opening her file, I peeked inside, even though I read through the muthafucka three times this morning alone.
“Lemme start by introducing myself.” I leaned forward and clasped my hands together. “I’m Love Hamilton, and I’ll be your parole officer for the rest of your sentence.”
Now that she sitting so close to me, I’m able to watch every expression that comes across her face. I ain’t miss the way her eyebrows dipped when she heard me say my name. It’s some recognition there.
She sat up straighter in the chair and made eye contact with me.
“I’m Baby Wilcox.”
I thought the hardest part of taking her case was just being around her, but I was wrong. The toughest thing is treating her like any other parolee.
