Page 3 of The Hellcat Barbies: Zora
I brushed her off with a laugh, but the truth sat with me long after. I didn’t know him or his story, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made me curious. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I found myself wondering what his story was, and why part of me wanted to know more.
By the time I wrapped up Sharice’s appointment and cleaned my suite, the sun was setting low. Case and the mystery man were long gone, but the thought of him still lingered. Once I was done, I locked up, and slid into my baby. My bright green Hellcat. I think I loved this car more than life itself. I belonged toan all-girls car club, and we all drove Hellcats. Since I didn’t have much family, they were the closest things to it.
***
I was finally home from the shop, with my wine sitting on the table while I listened to Nia drag her co-worker for the fifth time this week. She swore up and down the girl had it out for her, but I knew half the problem was Nia’s mouth.
“Zo, I’m telling you, if that bitch rolls her eyes at me one more time, I’m gon’ snatch ‘em right out her head.”
I laughed, shaking mine even though she couldn’t see me. “You not gon’ do shit but keep showing up to work, and ignoring that ho.”
“You’re always taking somebody else’s side.”
“I’m just being real. If you put your hands on that girl, it’s your ass that’s gon’ be unemployed, not hers.”
Before she could say something smart, there was a knock at my door, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
“Who’s that?” Nia’s nosy ass asked.
“My business.” I stood up, smoothing my hands down my leggings. “I’ll call you back.”
“Ooh, bitch. You throwing me away for some dick?”
“Bye, Nia.” I hung up before she could dig deeper.
The knock came again, steady this time, and I already knew who it was. Justin wasn’t my man, not even close, but he knew why he was here and so did I. No questions, no strings—just what I needed to end my night the way I wanted.
When I opened the door, Justin was standing there with a soft smile, holding a bag in one hand.
“Hey,” he said, lifting it a little. “I grabbed us some takeout. Figured you probably didn’t want to cook after being at the shop all day.”
That pulled a small laugh out of me before I could stop it. “You really trying to make this more than what it is.”
“Nah, not really. I just figured you could use some food.” He shrugged, still smiling as I stepped aside to let him in.
I closed the door and followed him toward the living room. “You’re always doing the most, though, when it’s unnecessary.”
“And you’re always pretending like you’on appreciate it,” he teased, setting the bag down on the coffee table.
“You want a plate, or you eating out the container?” I asked.
“Whatever makes less work for you.” He grinned.
We picked at the food more than we ate it, holding slight conversations between bites. Justin had me cracking up about some fool at his job who swore he was allergic to work but still begged for overtime.
“You really work with some clowns,” I said, shaking my head.
“That’s their shit. That ain’t got shit to do with me,” he replied, leaning back.
Leaning forward, I placed the half empty carton on the coffee table before licking sauce off my thumb. My eyes locked with Justin’s, and his eyes stayed on my mouth longer than they should’ve, and I felt the heat crawl up my spine. “You done staring, or you gon’ do what you came here to do?”
That was all it took. He pulled me across his lap like I weighed nothing, crashing his lips against mine. His hands were already on my ass, squeezing through the fabric of my shorts, grinding me down against the thick print straining in his sweats.
“Mmm, you missed this pussy, huh?” I whispered against his lips, rolling my hips until he groaned.
“Hell yeah, I missed it,” he growled back, teeth grazing my bottom lip before he sucked it. “You know I think about this shit every damn day.”
I tugged my shirt over my head and tossed it aside. “Then stop thinking and get it.”
