Brent smirked and reached into his pocket again, tossing a pack of Backwoods across the table. “Dark Stout.”
Zaire caught it mid-air, one-handed. “Attaboy.”
Meadow choked, her eyes bulging because Zaire was a menace. She knew he had a hood edge but sitting in the bar with him, she could tell it was still in him more than he wanted the world to know.
After unwrapping the package, he cracked the leaf open with his thumbs. Meadow pretended not to watch, but her eyes refused to mind their business.
Zaire shifted the pouch closer, tapping a few buds out, breaking them down with his fingers, and rolling the leaf between his palms to soften it.
Then he leaned over the table, forearms bracing, and started rolling.
His fingers were steady…his movements were smooth…his lips were ridiculous.
And she was mesmerized by the sexy way his tongue slid across the paper seal before he tightened it with two twists.
Meadow had to look away but her pussy had already seen it. She purred louder than she’d ever purred and it was like Zaire heard her because his eyes found hers, which seemed to bebegging Zaire to put his lips on it and swirl his tongue against it like he’d done the blunt wrapping.
Brent caught her watching. He smirked. “He do that too good, huh?”
Meadow shot him a look. “Brent, please.”
Brent laughed. “My fault.”
The bartender slid over, wiping her hands on a towel. “What y’all drinkin’?” She shifted her hips. “Hey Meadow.”
“Hey, girl.”
Brent answered before Meadow could. “Rum punch for her. She always gets that.”
Zaire didn’t look up from the wrap. “Put it on my tab,” he told the bartender. “The whole table.”
Meadow kicked him under the booth.
He didn’t lift his eyes…just smiled.
“I’m good, Hayley,” Brent declined the generous gesture.
Zaire chuckled under his breath. He didn’t care one bit if Brent paid for his own drinks. All he knew was, that nigga wasn’t paying for Meadow’s.
Hayley popped her hip again. “And you?” she looked at Zaire, smiling at how fine he was.
“Anything brown and from the top shelf, baby.” Zaire was still focused on the task at hand. “Would you happen to have a lighter for me?” He finally gave Hayley his eyes.
Much like Meadow had, Hayley had to blink a few times from how sexy he was. Zaire had a double take type of fine. But it went beyond the physical. It was he way he talked, the way his lips always looked moisturized. Just everything about him that made you confident in yourself, when you had his attention.
Hayley nodded absentmindedly, reaching in her apron pocket. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” Meadow pushed herself forward, just enough to remind them of her presence as if that mattered. Zaire was nothers to claim but she’d be damn if he flirted with anyone when the seat of her panties were soaked.
Hayley rolled her eyes once the ember of the flame brushed across Zaire’s blunt. He passed it back just as charming as he talked to her. “I’ll have your drinks right up.”
“Bring me another one,” he tapped his glass. Brent reminded her he was still at the table. It wasn’t top shelf but no one would know that.
“Gotcha,” Hayley cheesed, switching her hips as she walked off hoping Zaire was watching the handful of ass she had.
“Well, well, well…ain’t this cute?” Rena swayed over in a tight skirt, her face curved up into a grin that meant trouble. She leaned on Zaire’s side of the booth without shame. “Hey, Zaire,” she flirted, eyes dragging over him like she had the right.
Zaire was poker-faced.
