Page 23 of Saint Baptiste 2

Mmh. What a voice. I loved it when a man sounded like a man. When his voice was rough and raspy.

“Umm, no thank you,” I slurred before hooking my thumb over his hand resting on my stomach. “And, get your damn hands off me.”

So what he had a nice voice and he smelled good?

I didn’t give a damn, tonight’s mission hadn’t changed. l didn’t want anything to do with his ass. Fun girl Kiki would have sat with him, on his face, and on his dick too. However, she was dead. When he placed his hand on my waist, I felt nothing. Nothing good anyway. Even if I wanted to start a new one, with a new one... I wouldn’t be able to. I was... broken, already broken but broken in another way, too, now.

“If I let you go, I’m pretty sure you’ll fall,” he warned, tightening his grip.

“Oh,” I said through a light giggle.

If I wasn’t a ‘lil’ tipsy, I would have noticed that the only thing he had pressed against me was his upper body. His crouch didn’t brush against my ass. When he whispered into my ear, his lips didn’t touch it. He kept a respectful distance between us. However, his hold was tight. Secure. He didn’t approach me because he noticed some drunk bitch on the dance floor and wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to get some easy pussy. This was different. He was looking out for me.

“Thank you,” I said, deciding to be a little nicer, before looking over my shoulder to look at him. The minute my eyes met that light skin, thin nose, and a set of full pink lips, I sighed. I knew the voice was a little too familiar.

Chase’s corny ass.

“Hello, Naoki,” he spoke, with a light grin.

Despite his warning, I pried his hand from around my waist and pulled away before he could resist. Stumbled a little, but at least I was out of his embrace. Chase was the last person I wanted to see. Especially after our last conversation. I’d done nothing but treated his ass since meeting him. I had been so snooty and stuck up toward him, just for him to find me like this. Staggering, drunk, dressed down, looking a fucking mess.

“Hi, Chad. Thank you. I’m good,” I rushed, giving him a sweet smile before trying to rush away from him.

Except, that Casa Migo’s and... what was that other tequila I had? Oh. Clase Azul! Clase Azul and Casa Migo’s were doing a bitch dirty, okay?! I didn’t just stagger, I stumbled. A couple times before I lost my footing, completely. Luckily, Chase caught me by the arm and wrapped his arm around my waist.

“Chase,” he stressed, correcting me. “You can barely walk. You can’t run away from me this time,” he joked. “Look, this is innocent. We’re neighbors; let me at least make sure you get home okay. I can’t leave you here like this."

“Like this? What’s like this? I’m good,” I responded, slightly offended. “Are you trying to instigate that I don’t know how to handle a little bit of liquor?”

He lightly laughed. “The only thing I’m trying to instigate is you allowing me to drive you home. As far as insinuate? I’m not insinuating anything. I’m sure you handle your liquor quite well. You just had a little too much. It’s cool. It happens.”

This time, instead of protesting, I let him help me. Instead of running my mouth, I shut the fuck up. I had nothing else to say anyway. I’d embarrassed myself enough. I didn’t know Chase, but I was letting him take me home. He might’ve been a creep, but he wasn’t the creepy kind. I didn’t think he’d chain me up and throw me in the trunk of his car or no shit like that. A bitch might’ve been a lil’ drunk but I was very well acquainted with ‘Black’. He sat comfortable in my purse. Aim might be a little off, but I’d for sure do damage if Chase turned out to be the ‘creepy’ kind.

Did I trust him? Fuck no. Who in their right mind would trust a man? All they did was lie. They couldn’t form a sentence without lying. Lied so much it was second nature to them. Natural, just like breathing. Trust a man? Me? After what ‘man’ had done to me? For no reason other than being a fucking man? Stole from me. Used me. Discarded me. Abandoned me. Isolated me. Destroyed me. Damaged me.

The first and last time I trusted a man, I regretted it.

This wasn’t about trust. This was about getting home safely, and I would rather take my chances with the sorta kinda stranger next door than a random Uber driver. Had I stayed in the house, there wouldn’t be a chance to take. I should have gotten drunk at home. Could’ve danced naked in the middle of my living room, in solitude without judgement.

About ten minutes later, Chase pulled into my driveway. The entire ride in, we were quiet. I was glad he didn’t flirt or try to get to know me. However... I could’ve used a little bit of music. My thoughts ran rampant. Anxiety built as we grew closer and closer to the neighborhood. By the time he pulled into my driveway, my heart was racing, and I was panicking. I didn’t want to go into the house. Dreaded spending another day in there with her. Alone. In that big ass bed, with these loud ass dark ass thoughts, sinking deeper and deeper, further, and further beyond the surface.

Fuck

“You good?” Chase asked.

Lifting my head from the window, I slowly turned to face him. “I’m good but I could be better.” Sultrily, I smiled at him.

Barf. Was this the lows I’d been subjected to? Chase? In his turtleneck? A fucking turtleneck. And a peacoat. A wool peacoat. It was hooded. A wool, hooded peacoat and underneath it he wore a fucking turtleneck. Didn’t that scream corny?. He drank tea, every morning, on a balcony. He bought bitches shades and scribbled his phone number on post it notes. He was corny. With light skin and light eyes. Everything about him screamed run the other way. He wasn’t for me, but he was what I was left with. I didn’t have any options. It was a bad idea. A horrible idea. For many reasons. But tonight I didn’t care. Tonight, I just... I really just couldn’t go in there by myself. I was honestly petrified.

Chase nodded, with a smile. “Yeah, you get some good rest you will be.”

Aw. He wanted to play the long game. He was one of them. The type that liked to beat around the bush, rather than ravishing his way through it like the animal he really was. All of them were. There were just a couple like Chase who would rather keep his animalistic nature hidden before attacking. He carried himself with ‘poise’. Like a gentleman. I piqued him as the type of fuck boy that opened doors for bitches and said shit like ‘chivalry isn’t dead’. Fuck out of here. Chivalry was dead. Men didn’t do anything without motive. And pussy was always the motive.

I didn’t need chivalry.

I needed to be used.

Treated like the slut I was.

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