Page 3 of The Price of My Sins

“Third row… all the way down.” I nodded toward the lot.

She helped me walk, her small, strong hands bracing my side, guiding me like I wasn’t damn near twice her size. She didn’t complain nor flinch. She walked with me like she’d done this before. Now that we were closer, the coconut I’d smelled before smelled warmer, like a vanilla blended with something else. I was trying hard not to let my dick brick up.

“Where is your ride?” I asked her.

“I didn’t drive tonight. My ride is getting detailed.”

I looked at her, eyes narrowed like I wanted to protest, but the truth was written all over my body. I couldn’t even stand up straight. And despite the liquor, I could see it in her eyes; she wasn’t doing this to be nosy. She was doing it because she gave a damn, even if she didn’t know why yet.

“All right,” I grunted. “Don’t crash my shit, either, woman.”

She grinned as she unlocked the door and opened it for me. “Relax, Big Bo. I’ve been driving since I was thirteen.” She giggled as I slid into the passenger seat, barely able to throw my legs inside the truck.

Olivia closed the door behind me, circled around, and climbed in like she’d done this a hundred times.

“But have you ever driven something this big?” I asked, side-eyeing her as I put my address into the GPS.

“Please… I’ve handled bigger things.”

“Damn. Word?” I let out a low chuckle, eyes locked on her while she got settled behind the wheel.

She adjusted the seat, fingers smooth and deliberate. Already, her sweet scent, warm, soft, and a little spicy flooded the cab, enfolding around me like she belonged here as if this was her truck, and I was the one just catching a ride.

“Why?” She teased, a wicked little smile playing on her lips as the engine rumbled to life. “You got something big for me to ride, Big Bo?”

I raised an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “I do. But I don’t think you can climb this big tree.”

She scoffed, a playful fire in her tone. “Nigga, please. I climb trees and mountains. I’m certain I can handle you.”

That pulled a laugh straight from my chest. Deep. Genuine. Shit, this girl was a trip.

“Okay, mountain climber,” I said, smirking as I watched the city lights flash across her face while she drove. “Just don’t get mad when you get to the top and realize the air’s too thin.”

She looked over at me, unbothered, full of confidence. “I’ll bring oxygen. And a rope, just in case I need help climbing down.”

“So, does that mean you are gonna give a nigga the draws?”

“I don’t wear drawers. I wear thongs unless it’s that time of the month. Sooo…”

I shook my head, grinning like a fool, but inside? I was impressed. She was quick with it, bold, and didn’t flinch at my energy. Matched it without even trying. And the craziest part? I liked it.

We cruised through the city, windows cracked, the night air rolling in as her perfume lingered in the space between us. The conversation flowed easily and effortlessly. We talked about everything under the sun: childhood memories, random moments that made us laugh, and little things that didn’t carry too much weight. From old cartoons to crazy high school stories, even what irritates us about today’s world. But the personal shit? The real shit? We left that alone. And honestly, I was cool with that.

We pulled into my driveway a little past three in the morning, and I was still fucked up. Olivia eased the truck to a stoplike she’d been driving it for years. She put it in park and immediately reached into her bag. I watched her pull out her phone, thumb-tapping like crazy. I reached over and snatched it from her hand.

“Ayo! What are you doing?” I asked as I watched her put this cute mug on her face.

“I’m ordering my ride. I did my good deed for today. Now, can you give me back my phone, please?”

“What happened to all that talk about climbing this tree and shit? Don’t tell me you all talk and no action?”

I could see the hesitation in her eyes and her body stiffen before she spoke.“Trust me… I can back up everything I speak on. But I’m not a hoe. I like you and all, but I don’t go around fucking niggas.”

“I don’t mean no disrespect, love, but damn… can a nigga eat it? Hell! Smell it?” I removed my seatbelt, reached over, and ran my hand up her smooth thigh. At this point, I was feeling sleepy. The alcohol was about to have me calling the hogs. But I at least wanted to taste this beauty before I passed out.

“You sure about that, Big Bo?” She reached for my beard and tugged on it, making my dick hard. I never let bitches touch my beard, but Olivia doing it had a nigga turned on to the max. “This pussy is known to have niggas crashing out behind it. How unhinged are you, baby?” She ran her tongue around my lips, and I promise, I almost nutted.

“I’m the type of nigga that will cut a nigga’s throat for even thinking about touching my pussy. I’ll fuck the shit outta you in front of his dead corpse before burying his body parts in his mama’s backyard.” I spoke the truth. I was far from a scared nigga.

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