Page 57 of Own It

“Don’t play with me.” I cut my eyes her way, and she giggled flirtatiously, making me break, too, and smile.

Téa chatted with me as I drove while also playing deejay and listening to some soft voiced girl sing about all the gangsta shit she’d pull on a nigga if he dogged her out. For some reason, I imagined the singer to look like Téa’s ass, and maybe because she not only gave off that vibe, but she looked like the type to cut a muthafucka, and that was a turn on.

We pulled up to the SLS Hotel, because though I was feeling Téa, I wasn’t bringing her ass back to my crib, especially with the way she was singing her fucking heart out to them psycho bitch songs.

“Ooh, this is nice,” she commented, tilting her head back to take in the ceilings of the suite. “I could tell by the lobby.” The pad of her finger coasted along the couch in the living area.

“Never been to the SLS? I thought everybody from LA been here. Or shit, you one of them fucking transplants.” I watched her saunter to the window to peer out at the city.

“Nope, don’t insult me. I’m born and raised, just never had the funds to be over on this side of town.” She faced me. “So you’re rich? You sell drugs?”

“I don’t.” I went to sit down on the couch, and she started toward me, her lids low as if she was trying to read a nigga.

“Then what do you do?”

“I’m a business owner,” I lied. “Don’t I look the part?” I smiled, making her do the same as she stood between my parted legs, still smelling sweet despite having just worked.

“You look like something, that’s for sure,” she commented, causing us both to laugh as she backed up some to dig into her Jansport. When she pulled out a small bag with some pills, my heart liked to leaped out of my fucking chest. “I want you to try something.”

“Nah. I ain’t into no weird shit.”

“It’s not weird. It’s fun. I promise.” She switched back over to me and descended to her knees before opening the tiny Ziplock bag and dumping two pills into her hand and then mine. “Put one in your mouth.”

I listened to her, following instructions as she reached up to unbuckle my jeans. Sinking into the couch, I drank her in, enjoying the feel of the way her small hands grazed my dick even while concealed by my boxers.

She swallowed both of her pills just before feeding my already erect dick through the slit in my underwear.

“Fuck.” I grumbled, basking in the familiar feeling of the pill.

“Take the other one,” Téa said just before covering my dick in her warm, wet mouth.

I did the shit, experiencing two highs at once from her sucking me off and the first pill coursing through my system, with a second one trailing the shit. I wasn’t sure why I’d never thought to get my dick sucked while getting high, but this shit was unexplainably amazing.

Dropping my hand lazily on the back of Téa’s head, I relaxed, enjoying my high and the fast track to a nut.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING . . .

Opening my eyes, it took me a minute to recognize my surroundings, but it eventually came to me. I was laid up in the bed feeling like I was on top of the fucking world from popping pills and fucking on Téa the whole night.

“Good morning.” She emerged from the bathroom, clearly freshly showered. “I ordered breakfast. I hope you don’t mind. I thought we could eat before we leave.”

“Nah. You good.” I watched her momentarily, running my hand down my tired face. “You got pancakes?” I asked, checking my phone to be sure my brothers hadn’t hit me.

I’d gone against my word last night, and the guilt was eating me up and making me fucking paranoid. I didn’t know if Mylo had snitched or not, but I doubted it. He was a cool nigga for the most part.

“I did, and waffles,” Téa answered, digging through her bag for something presentable to put on.

I climbed from the bed and hugged her from behind before kissing her soft neck and smacking her on the ass.

“Last night, shit, wish I could run it back,” I called out as I sort of stumbled to the bathroom to take a piss.

“Why can’t we?”

“I gotta chill out on that. I promised my brother.” I spoke from the large bathroom, praying I could make good on the shit I’d told Rakim.

Not only did I need to work, but Rakim had always been there for me and protected me, so I didn’t like disappointing him. Josias was my twin in the literal and figurative sense, so he always understood anything I was dealing with or where I was coming from, but Rakim had no real tolerance for bullshit. If I gave him my word on some shit, he expected me to come through—to own it.