Then she leaned over and kissed me like she had been doing it for years. Her mouth was soft but not shy. Her lip gloss was sweet, and her tongue teased just enough to make my dick sit up and pay attention.
I liked that. She wasn’t playing no games. There wasn’t any fake modesty because her daddy was in politics. She wanted me, and she was not pretending otherwise.
When she pulled back, I stayed there for a second, watching her. “Where we heading?”
“You hungry?”
“I can eat.”
“I have somewhere we can go.”
“What’s the address?”
She rattled off the restaurant, and I plugged it into the GPS.
“Fifteen minutes,” I said, pulling off.
“That is enough time to decide if you are going to behave in public,” she said, crossing one leg over the other. Her shorts slid up, showing more of her thigh.
I glanced at her, smirking. “I make no promises.”
She laughed. “That is what I am afraid of. My father already thinks you are trouble.”
“He’s right. But I’m the right kind of trouble, I promise.”
She looked at me, blushing. “That is exactly why I picked you.”
“Did you really pick me, though?”
She cracked up laughing.
“You still salty Sincere turned you down?”
“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He did not ‘turn me down.’ He declined a professional opportunity.”
“Same thing,” I shrugged. “You wanted a clean-cut investment nigga and ended up with the one your father probably always warned you about.”
“And, yet, here we are,” she leaned into me. “Maybe I like bad decisions.”
“You upgraded,” I told her. “You just don’t know it yet.”
She shook her head, smiling even while she tried to act fake offended.
“So tell me again why you volunteered so fast when Sincere said no?” she asked, side-eyeing me.
“Your pretty ass looked like easy community service.”
She played offended, making her jaw drop. “Community service?” Then she laughed. “You are ridiculous.”
“You knew what you were doing. You got your little PR game; I got my own reasons. As long as everybody eats, I’m straight.”
“And what exactly are you trying to eat, Reek?”
I slid her a look. “You already know the answer to that.”
City lights blurred past as we rode through traffic. We fell into the same back-and-forth we had been having over text the last few days.
“You really do not care about any of this political stuff, do you?” she asked, studying me.
