“Why you so quiet?” he asked.
“No reason. I had a really good time tonight,” I smiled. Truth was, this nigga had me wide open—and we hadn’t even kissed yet.
“Me too.” He reached over and rested his hand on my thigh, and something about the way it lingered—I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but things felt more serious between us than when the evening started. I knew he felt it too.
When we pulled up to my building, he came around to open my door.
“You sure you straight?” he asked, rubbing my arm.
“I’m good, Cash. Promise,” I laughed softly, hoping it’d ease whatever was going through his head. He nodded, but didn’t make a move, just looked at me.
I held my breath.Was he going to kiss me or what?
“I’ll hit you up tomorrow,” he said finally, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to leave.
My shoulders dropped watching him walk back towards his car.
After a few steps, he spun back around, grabbed me and crashed his mouth onto mine.
Weeks of tension finally snapped as we both finally gave in. I melted into his solid frame as his tongue slid into my mouth. He tasted like cognac and sin, and I knew if I wasn’t careful he’d become my addiction.
A soft moan escaped me as his hands dropped to my ass, pulling me closer to him. The kiss was softer than I expected, but the hunger was undeniable. My nipples pebbled and the ache between my thighs flared back to life. I could feel my arousal starting to drip down my legs.
Cash broke the kiss with an unsteady breath, his jaw tight like he was trying to hold himself back.
He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. “You ‘bout to be a serious fucking problem for me, woman.”
I fought the smile tugging at my lips as I turned toward the door.
The feeling was mutual.
Because I was ready to let Cash Banks ruin my life in more ways than one.
CHAPTER11
CASH “MONEY” BANKS
Stilettos was packedfor Clyde’s birthday party. Me, Jelani, Slim, and Fontaine had p to celebrate our boy—but I had another reason for being here.
Clyde used to roll with us heavy before his girl got pregnant a few years ago. Now he owned a barbershop downtown in one of my buildings. Not that I needed an excuse to hit the strip club, but it worked out because I needed to catch up with Nairobi.
She hadn’t hit me up since I bumped into her with Kyree at the Emerald Bar. I knew she’d been working, but I still needed updates. Aside from this shit with the Eastland Crew, things had seemingly returned to normal. Less ODs and no more missing money which meant the New York plug had probably fallen back. Still, my gut told me that was temporary while he and whoever he was working with were taking time to regroup.
I spotted Nairobi walking the floor with two other dancers. Her tiny neon green bikini top and g-string sat high on her hips, leaving barely anything to the imagination. Fontaine almost choked on his drink when she came into view.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the infamous Banks Crew,” she said, grinning devilishly as she popped her gum. The red light from the stage flickered over her oiled skin.
“Sup—” Jelani started.
“Bambi,” she said smoothly with a wink, stepping into our section.
“Sup, Bambi,” he repeated, trying not to stare too hard.
She sauntered over to me, trailing a finger down my chest as she leaned in close.
“You gon’ have to pay me for a dance, boss man,” she whispered.
Out the corner of my eye, I caught Fontaine’s hand tighten around his glass, jaw clenched. My boy was really gone over her.
