Page 36 of Just Like Summer

Nothing was salvageable. That’s how he operated when it came down to arson. Leaving the scene of the crime, he drove a couple blocks and parked. Deposit bags were ripped open with gloved hands, discarded and counted. From there he met up with Pepe for an exchange.

“‘Preciate it,” Cairo offered, taking the stacks of bills from Pepe.

“Ain’t shit. You look out. I got you. Tell your girl whenever she comes through, it’s on me,” Pepe shared, earning him a look.

“What you tryin’ to do, nigga?”

Pepe chuckled. “You got her marked. Off of that alone, I’ll look out.”

“Yeah more like it, nigga. I’ll see you.”

With the business of the night done, Cairo was back home. Clothes removed, showered, and peeking in on Kamilla who was sound asleep, holding his pillow, hair sprawled over her face. The sight of her that comfortable made his heart beat double time. It was time to get serious.

thirteen

The repetitive drum woke her up out of her sleep. Thinking she fell asleep with her headphones in again, she patted the bed, finding her phone on the charger on the nightstand. A tired smile wiggled over her lips. She scratched her coils, in desperate need of a bonnet she didn’t have, and she swung her legs off of the bed. A slow trek to the bathroom to relieve herself and then attempt to braid her bush down. The drums kept playing. Cairo was up. Back to his mulling.

Being sure not to startle him, she softly walked out of the bathroom to the bedroom he converted to his studio. Kamilla stood at the ajar door and spotted him on the floor under the blue lights, drumming his fingers over his chest.

“Keys,” she spoke loud enough to announce herself. “It needs keys.”

Cairo kept drumming. “Come here. Lay by me. You gotta feel it.”

She moved deeper into the room and laid by him.

“You got to close your eyes and feel it,” he muttered softly.

Kamilla pulled in a deep breath, settled, and closed her eyes. The snare in rhythm with the kick drum held her to the floor, her mind filled in the gaps with a series of keys that was more rhythm and blues than the hip hop sound she expected from him. She turned to her side, eyes still closed not knowing that Cairo had repositioned himself. It wasn’t until she felt the soft touch of his fingers traced over the bridge of her nose, outlining her lips to her chin, she opened her eyes.

She didn’t move, just laid in the moment, locking in what being adored felt like. Cairo withdrew, making her eyes flutter open, finding his pools studying her. His top lip twitched. Kamilla’s hand reached out to return the gesture. She outlined what was his chiseled face underneath the hair. Cairo was hiding himself. One day she’d get down to the bottom of it, for now, she let her fingers dance over his face while watching how his eyes flutter close and his body relaxed.

Cairo’s free hand grabbed the side of the oversized t-shirt she wore and pulled her into him. “You want me to kiss you, K? Say it.”

Kamilla rolled her lips over one another. “Kiss me, Cairo.”

He gripped her chin, let his lips smirk against hers. “Whatever you want, say it. I’ll do it.”

Kamilla leaned further in to kiss his face. Cairo caught her bottom lip between his. Soft pecks and nose nuzzles turning into lessons in tongues dancing over one another. He controlled the exchange, kept his hands in neutral zones. Kamilla’s tiny hands roamed from his chest to his shoulders. Her back meeting the floor again as he boxed her in. She could feel heat flood parts of her she’d never experienced before. She only daydreamed about moments like this. She eavesdropped on the girls she went to school with who overshared how moments like this went. Good, bad, or indifferent.

Unvoluntary, soft, intoxicating moans flowed from her throat into his mouth. Cairo pulled away, stood, and reached for her hands. The dizzying kiss left her ready to fall into the abyss of him. In the bedroom she’d previously left, Cairo returned to kissing her. His erection evident, coaxed alive from the aroma of Kamilla’s heat. Exiting the neutral zones, his large hands cupped her breasts. It was Kamilla’s nip to his lip the sobered him.

He groaned so sexily, she felt a foreign flood between her thighs. “Nah, K. You not ready for that.”

The closeness between them now zapped, the heat replacing it with the coolness of the room. Her brows dipped and before she could protest and convince them both, he shook his head.

“Look at me, K.”

She looked over at him, eyes landing on the erection pressing against the fabric of his basketball shorts. Her eyes blinked, thighs clenched, teeth bit her lip.

“You’re not ready for what this comes with. You can’t even say you are. Not yet. When you’re ready, you’ll know. Get some rest. Aight?”

She blinked away the rejection and nodded. He felt that shift, the building of a wall he’d gotten down earlier in the day. Turning to his dresser he pulled out a durag he hadn’t wore in months. He moved back to her and tied her hair up with it then turned her around to face him. Cairo held her face in his hands and kissed the top of her head. Then craned his neck to butt his forehead against hers.

“I’m not rejecting you. This ain’t what this is. I’m respecting your right to choose what you want. Fully aware of what it comes with. Once you welcome me inside of you, you’re mine. That shit is dangerous.”

“How?” she quizzed.

“Because I’ll fuck around and let you in to parts of me I closed off.” Cairo placed a final kiss to her lips. “Goodnight, K.”