“Yes.” He tugs on my wrist and pulls until I’m standing between his spread legs, his hand wandering down to cup my ass, his fingers resting in the divide between my cheeks.
“Good.” I loosen the top button at his throat. “Because you’re off today. Grits is closed.”
He dips his head and leaves kisses at the base of my throat. “Correct.”
“And I don’t pick up the kids until three.”
He brushes his thumbs over my nipples, and they pebble through my sweater. My sharply indrawn breath is the only other indication I feel any response. I keep my voice even and my expression unchanged. But when he takes both breasts in his hands, testing the weight and shape of them, lifting the sweater and sucking them through the silk one by one, I can’t even pretend to be unaffected. My fingernails dig into his shoulder as I struggle not to scream. He slowly peels the sweater over my head, tossing it and unsnapping the bra, freeing my breasts. It feels so decadent. His breathing changes and he lays his face between them, inhaling the scent of vanilla I spritzed there in hopes we’d come to this very moment.
“Upstairs?” I whisper, holding my breath waiting for his response.
Is that too intimate? Does he only want quick and frantic, or could we take our time? Rediscovering each other through gasps and moans and orgasms, and, if I’m lucky, lying in each other’s arms. His kiss is sweet, the way he licks into me, bites at my lips, holds me by my chin while he ravages my mouth. Finally he pulls back, collects my sweater and bra. Grinning, he takes my hand and leads me toward the stairs.
“I remember the way.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Yasmen
This is long overdue,” Soledad says, setting the large charcuterie board on her dining room table. “I can’t believe how long it’s been since we got together.”
“What’s wrong with us, bitches?” Hendrix asks, picking up a spear of olives, brie, and pepperoni. “Oooh. I love a good charcoochie board.”
“Charcuterie,” Soledad corrects.
“You stay cute with yours,” Hendrix says and winks. “But it’s the coochie that brings the boys out.”
“Well, it’s a girls’ night,” I remind her. “So no coochie. I mean, unless we want to talk about coochie, but no boys.”
“I’m just glad we finally got some time,” Soledad says. “The year started off so hectic.”
“Yeah, spending the last couple of weeks in LA with my client was exhausting.” Hendrix pops a grape into her mouth. “But commission off that seven-figure deal makes it worth it.”
“Okay, Black luxury,” I say, high-fiving her. “I see you.”
We all laugh while Soledad fills our glasses with white wine.
“I needed this.” I take a long sip, letting it cool my throat and relax my nerves. “Kassim is playing basketball, and that is eating a chunk of my free time. Getting him to practice earlyandlate, being there for games, but that was the compromise we reached. Since I wouldn’t budge on football, he negotiated basketball.”
“My girls are in everything.” Soledad takes a healthy sip of her wine. “Lupe’s actually taking acting classes.”
“She chose that over modeling?” Hendrix asks.
“She chose it for herself,” Soledad emphasizes. “I’m not encouraging her to trade on her looks. I’m teaching her to use every gift in her arsenal.”
“And when do you plan on taking your own advice, ma’am?” Hendrix asks, only half jokingly. “We been telling you aboutyourarsenal forever. What will model that lesson for her better than seeing her own mother max out her gifts?”
“Ugh, I hate it when you’re right.” Soledad rolls her eyes. “I’m so busy, I haven’t given it much thought, but I will.”
“I’ve been slammed too. Work just keeps coming,” Hendrix agrees. “I haven’t even had time to get on Tinder, Match, Bumble, nothing. Not even BlackPeopleMeet.com. I need to go to church, where the Black peopledomeet. Sometimes that’s where you find the best men, chile. Horny and highly favored!” Hendrix lifts one hand and waves. “Hallelujah.”
“This whole conversation”—Soledad waves her hand in Hendrix’s direction—“feels sacrilegious.”
I’m still choking on a laugh when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and grin at a new text from Josiah.
Josiah:I think I pulled something this morning. I’m not ashamed to admit I can barely keep up with you in bed.
I giggle and type out a quick response.