Page 24 of Certified Pressure 3
I slid behind the wheel of my matte black Lambo, reached over and grabbed her hand, kissin’ it before I started the engine. “Brunch first,” I said with a grin. “Round two later.”
She laughed and leaned over to kiss me again, her lips soft and sweet. “Bet.”
And as we pulled off, my mind was already on what was next. I was takin’ her to meet my people, and I wanted them to see what I saw. I wanted them to feel what I felt, ‘cause even though me and Toni hadn’t been together long, I knew what we had was real. I felt it in my soul every time I looked at her. She was my future, and I wasn’t lettin’ her go for shit.
High Society Brunch
When we pulled up to the spot, I turned to Toni.
“Baby, wait til you see this joint,” I said, cuttin’ the engine.
The High Society Brunch sat on the edge of the city, sunlight hittin’ off the glass walls and palm trees wrapped with gold trim. It was classy but still chill, and ha a live band playin’ soft with the smell of syrup and mimosas floating through the air.
Toni leaned up a lil’ checkin’ the scene while fixin’ her hair in the mirror.
“This where you bringin’ me?” she asked, smiling.
“Yeah, baby. I told you I was gon’ feed you right.”
I got out, came around, and opened her door. She stepped out smooth, her sundress flowin’ with the wind, and I swear she had a nigga droolin’ like a six-month old with a mouth full of teeth comin’ in. I smacked her ass when she passed me, and she looked back grinnin’.
“Boy, you play too much.”
“I ain’t playin’, girl,” I said, walkin’ in behind her, my dick pressed to her ass.
Inside was all white marble and gold accents and fresh flowers on every table. The waiter led us to a private corner on the terrace, and I pulled Toni’s chair out before sittin’ across from her. The view overlooked the skyline, buildings sparklin’ like they was dipped in diamonds.
She glanced around. “This nice as hell,” she said, her eyes shinin’.
“You deserve nice,” I said simply.
She looked down, smilin’ to herself. “You really somethin’ else.”
“Oh yeah?” I replied, unable to keep my eyes off her.
The waiter came back with champagne and fruit. I poured for her first, then for me. She took a small sip and licked her lips. “It’sa lil’ strong but I fuck with it,” she said.
“You’ll get used to it mama.”
They brought out plates of chicken and waffles, shrimp and grits and omelets loaded with crab and cheese. The smell alone had me hungry. I cut a strawberry, dipped it in cream, and held it out. “Open up.”
She leaned in slow, her lips partin’ just enough for me to slide the strawberry between ‘em. When the juice slipped downthe side of her mouth, I leaned in and kissed it off, then caught her lips with mine. I started tongue-kissin’ her right there at the table, slow and deep, savorin’ the taste of the strawberry and her all at once.
“You got these people starin’ at us,” she said, bitin’ her smile.
“Let ‘em look.”
We kept eatin’, talkin’ about music, about the night before, and other random shit’. She had that energy that made everything feel easy. I could be sittin’ anywhere with her and it would still feel like the right place.
A lil’ while in, she looked up from her plate, her eyes soft. “You always like this?” she asked.
I looked back at her, one eyebrow up. “Like what?”
“Like this. All sweet and romantic and shit?” She said, laughin’.
I laughed low and shook my head. “Nah. I ain’t like this with everybody. I keep tellin’ you, you special. You must like when I talk that shit.”
“Hell yeah nigga. Now special how?”
