She faced the pool, wrapping her arms around herself. “I knew you were wealthy, but this…” She waved a hand around. “I thought you’d have a flashy penthouse downtown or something, but this is some grown-man shit.”
I smiled, stepping closer. “I’m thirty-eight, Jas. I better be on some grown-man shit.”
I held out my hand. “I know I’m a little hot-headed?—”
“A little?” she cut in, sliding her soft hand into mine.
“Okay, very hot-headed,” I admitted, leading her back inside. “But there’s more to me than just the nigga you’ve seen.” I gave her hand a squeeze.
“Come on, let me show you the rest.”
We headed upstairs, where more art hung on the walls, including framed photos of places I had traveled to.
“Y’all are some mama boys, huh?” she said, stopping in front of a photo of Ma and Jelani on a beach on the Amalfi Coast.
“She means everything to us,” I nodded. “If anyone deserves the world, it’s her.”
“Mhm,” she hummed. I led her further down the hall, stopping at the double doors at the end.
“This right here,” I said, pushing one open, “this is my sanctuary for real.”
Jasmine’s eyes widened as she entered the master suite. The room was spacious, centered around a huge California king bed. My walk-in closet and en-suite bathroom were tucked off to the side, but I knew what had caught her attention—the floor-to-ceiling windows and the balcony overlooking the backyard.
“Wow,” she murmured, stepping toward the glass.
I sat on the bench at the foot of my bed. “You know, you never answered my question earlier.”
“Which one?” she asked, turning back to me.
“Do you want to get back with Marcus?”
Jasmine sighed and leaned against my dresser. “No. I didn’t even want to go out with him forreal. I just said yes because he helped me. I know he’s down here on some bullshit, and I’m not trying to be caught up in whatever he‘s got going on.”
“But I’m also in this street shit,” I reminded her.
“Touché,” she said with a half-smile.
“So, what—you saying you like this street nigga better?”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Oh my God! Why are you like this?”
I stood, smirking as I closed the distance between us. My fingers hooked in the hem of her top, gently pulling her toward me. “I mean… do you?”
“Nope,” she said, popping thepwith a smirk.
I bent down, placing soft kisses along her neck, trailing up to her ear. “Really?”
My hands slid over her ass, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Nuh-uh,” she breathed, gasping when I slipped my hand between her legs and started stroking her through her shorts.
"You're a terrible liar, baby girl," I murmured, grinning as she started grinding against my hand.
“Shut up,” she muttered, yanking me down by my shirt, crashing her lips into mine.
The kiss turned sloppy real fast—like we were trying to make up for every second we were away from each other. Her hands wrapped around my neck as I traced my hands up her sides, memorizing every dip and curve of her body.
A groan rumbled low in my chest as she sucked my bottom lip. I was bricked up, my dick straining hard against my shorts. The moment her body shifted against me, something in me snapped. I grabbed her and backed her into the dresser hard, sending cologne bottles crashing to the floor. I didn’t give a fuck, I needed her.
