Page 27 of Gotta Jones For Ya
She leaned forward, wipin’ her fingers and glancin’ up at me through them thick-ass lashes. “Something I’ve never done before.”
That made me pause. My grin didn’t drop, but I leaned in too, eyes on her like I was tryna see past her flesh and straight into the thought behind that request. “Oh yeah? You tryna cross somethin’ off the bucket list while you in my city?”
“Mmhmm.”
I licked my lips and tapped the table a few times, thinkin’. “Aight, bet.” I knew just the thing. I flagged down the waitress, dropped a couple hundreds on the bill and a lil’ extra for the tip. “Appreciate you, mama,” I told her, and she winked at Ny again like she approved.
As we stepped out into the sun, I pulled my phone from my pocket, swiped quickly, and hit the line I needed.
“Yo. I need you to open that shit up for me now. Yeah, short notice, but you owe me. One hour. Nah, not later. Now, nigga,” I said, holdin’ the phone between my shoulder and ear while openin’ the passenger door for her. “Good looks. I’m on the way.” I hung up and caught her eyes squintin’ at me, curiosity all up in her pretty-ass face.
“What was that?” she asked, slidin’ into the seat.
I leaned in, let my lips ghost the shell of her ear, and whispered, “A surprise. Just sit back and let me do what I do.”
She sucked her teeth but I saw the smirk creepin’ across her lips. That nervous anticipation mixed wit’ her feelin’ like she could trust me? That shit did somethin’ to me. Made me wanna keep her on edge forever. Not in no scary way—just enough to keep her comin’ back for more.
Back in the driver’s seat, I fired up the whip again and glanced over at her. “You trust me?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nah,” I said, backin’ out smoothly. “But I like that you ask anyway.”
Her leg was warm under my palm again. I slid my hand up her thigh just a lil’ bit, not even on no freaky timing. Just so she remembered who she was ridin’ wit’.
She was quiet for a second, takin’ in the city like she was still tryna map it all out in her head. Lights flicked on in shop windows. Music spilled from open storefronts. Traffic hummed low as we cruised past murals and old brick buildings that carried stories she hadn’t heard yet.
“This is your city for real,” she said, glancin’ over at me.
“Born here. Bled here. Earned my name here.”
“And now you run it?”
I looked over at her slowly, that grin spreadin’. “I don’t run it, baby. I own my lane and make sure it stay clear. That’s it.”
She exhaled, shakin’ her head like she was tryna stay grounded, but I saw it in her eyes. She was fallin’ fast and I wasn’t gon’ stop her. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“You gon’ see in a minute,” I said. “Just know it’s gon’ be an experience.”
“You’re so damn dramatic.”
“Nah,” I said, lips twitchin’. “I’m just intentional.”
She bit her bottom lip and looked away again, tryna stay tough, but I was already under her skin. I could feel it. Hear it in her breath. See it in the way she kept rubbin’ her thighs together like she was tryna forget how I made her feel the night before. And I wasn’t even finished wit’ her yet.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I said I wanted to do something I’d never done before but I damn sure didn’t think I’d be standing in front of a blacked-out door at a private indoor gun range that existed behind a fake storefront. Everything was dim, polished, and high-tech. That cold rush of air conditioning hit my thighs first, and then the gunpowder scent hit next. Masculine. Sterile. Loud. It was a different kind of dangerous.
Knuck held the door open for me with that smug little smirk he always wore when he knew he was up to no good. He chuckled, locking the door behind us as his heavy boots echoed across the concrete. “You said you wanted different. You didn’t specify what kinda different, so I used my imagination.”
“And your imagination landed on… semi-automatic weapons?”
“Nah. My imagination landed on you pressed up against me while I teach you how to hold one.”
And just like that, my thighs got warm. I hated how fast he could flip the switch on my body like that. One minute, I was unsure, nervous even. Next minute, I was clenched and biting the inside of my cheek like a damn rookie.
He led me further in, and a man was already behind a bulletproof glass check-in, giving Knuck a head nod of respect. No ID check. No waiver. No “first-timer” spiel.
