“You know you driving Fontaine crazy, right?” I said, peeling a Franklin off the stack beside me.
“That man ain’t worried about me,” she laughed, tucking the bill into her bikini top.
She spun in one fluid motion and dropped into my lap, pressing her back against my chest. The lights flashed overhead as she rolled her hips to the beat of the music. You would’ve thought she was a dancer for real. I gritted my teeth, willing my dick not to brick up. She twirled again, straddling me and looping her arms around my neck.
“Gotta make it look believable. Kyree has eyes in here,” she whispered, grinding slowly.
Fontaine shot up from his seat, nose flaring, like he was ready to risk it all. Slim snatched him back down by his collar before he crashed out.
“You ‘bout to have my boy swinging on me tonight,” I chuckled. “We need to go before he really starts trippin’.”
Nairobi glanced back at Fontaine, slowly licking her lips to mess with him before standing and flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“Private dances are five hundred,” she said loud enough for him to hear, and threw one last look his way before strutting out of the section.
I followed behind, careful not to meet his eyes.
“Nigga, don’t be on no dumb shit tonight,” I heard Jelani warn him.
Nai moved through the club like she‘d worked there for years. Yo Gotti boomed through the speakers as we made our way to the private rooms.
Inside, a single pole was mounted on a small center stage. Nairobi sank into a worn leather against the wall, stretching out like she could finally breathe.
“You ain’t right messing with that man’s head,” I said, dropping down beside her.
“He’s drunk,” she shrugged, slipping off her heels with a groan. “Ugh, my feet are killing me.”
She plopped them onto my lap like I was her assistant and let out a satisfied sigh the second I started rubbing them.
“No cameras in here,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “I deactivated them before I clocked in.”
“So you got something for me, or you just wanted to finesse a foot rub?” I asked, working my hands over the balls of her feet.
She cracked one eye open. “Can’t it be both?” she teased, wiggling her toes in my hands.
“I should go get Fontaine—I bet he’d be on his knees doing this right now.”
“Hm.” She sat up on her elbows, eyes gleaming. “Wonder what your little girlfriend would think if she walked in.”
I paused, caught off guard at the mention of Jasmine.
Nai clocked it immediately and bobbed her head.
“Ohh,” she said, a slow smile spreading. “You actually like her. That’s cute. But, she’s not a little… common for you?”
I shoved her feet off my lap. If it was anyone else, I would’ve snapped, but she was being petty from me curving her a few months ago.
“Nai, I’m not in the mood for this.”
“Fine,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “But you owe me big time for this whole thing. Kyree is so fucking wack, I’m tired of pretending I like him.”
I leaned back and remembered how that grimy nigga was grinning in my face at the Emerald Lounge like I was stupid. I couldn’t wait to put one in his head.
“It was me, Genesis, Portia, and this new girl, Poppi,” she continued. “We pulled up to some mansion in College Park.”
“Since when Kyree got a spot over there?”
“It wasn’t his place.”
