I’d done what he asked, explaining about my aunt exactly and he had no comment.
Jeez, this guy was weird. Hot, but weird.
“I can’t,” I told him. “I have class.”
“Class?” he asked.
“School. Beauty school. I’m getting certification in skin technology.”
“Tuesday,” he stated immediately and I shook my head.
“Clients. Two of them. One at six thirty. One at eight.”
“Clients?”
“I’m already a certified nail technician. Both are acrylics.”
He turned to face me fully and asked, “Why do you take clients on evenings and weekends?”
“Because I work as a file clerk full-time during the day.”
He studied me.
Then he murmured, “Life isn’t good, find a way to make it that way or at least make it better.”
“What?” I asked quietly but I knew what. Those were my own words coming back to me.
“Don’t know shit about this,” he announced. “Do women who do nails need to have a full-time job to cover their asses?”
“Um… no. But I only have a part-time clientele. To rent a station in a salon or whatever and make a living at it, I need a full-time clientele. I’m working to that.”
“Babe, full-time work with school, just pointing out, that’s an impossible feat.”
“I only have a few weeks left on my skin technology certification so I can start taking clients on Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday nights. That’ll make it easier. And I can diversify and pick up facial clients too.”
His mouth got tight. Then his eyes went back to the Range.
“Knight?” I called.
His eyes cut back to me. “Schedule you keep, babe, no time for me. Not likin’ that.”
I pressed my lips together because this was kind of true.
“I don’t work Saturday nights and most of Sundays,” I said softly.
“I do work Saturday nights which leaves only Sundays,” he replied then repeated, “So, not likin’ that.”
Jeez. He said he liked me but evidence was suggesting he liked me.
And I liked that.
“You come to the club on Saturday,” he declared. “Bring your girls. I’ll give you a VIP and send a car for you and them. Any friends you got that you want there, I’ll give you Kathleen’s number, she’ll get you the passes you need for them to join you in your section. I’ll spend time with you in the club if I got it but rest up, you’ll be spending time with me after I’m done. I also claim Sunday.”
“I have clients on Sunday morning,” I told him.
“I’ll take you home to take them and I’ll pick you up to spend the rest of Sunday with me.”
Take me home?
This meant he assumed I’d be spending the night with him.
And I liked his assumption.
My heart squeezed.
The cell in Knight’s back pocket rang.
“Give me a second, babe,” he muttered, pulling it out, looking at the display then hitting a button and putting it to his ear. “Yo,” he greeted, paused then there was a semi-growled, “Tell me you’re shittin’ me.” Another pause then an annoyed, “What time is it?” Pause then, “Why the f**k did she wait until nearly two f**kin’ thirty to drag her ass to you?” Silence then, “Jesus, f**k, this bitch is gonna do my f**kin’ head in. Shit for brains. She report he’s a regular?” Pause then, more annoyed, as in far more annoyed, “He’s done it before?” Another pause then, sinisterly quietly, “Oh no. This is a message I’m gonna relay. Got Anya with me. Gonna get her settled and I’ll meet you at the club.” Pause then, “Right. Twenty, maybe thirty. Later.”
He hit a button and his eyes came to me.
“I gotta go do something and I want you to wait here for me.”
“Maybe I should –” I began but he shook his head.
“I want you to wait here for me.”
“Knight –”
“Anya, you aren’t gettin’ this but two weeks ago when you walked into my bedroom to use my phone, the life you been livin’ which isn’t all that good got better. A f**kuva lot better. Because I’m gonna make it that way. And in return, I’m gonna ask very little of you. And right now, all I’m askin’ is for you to hang here until I come home so I can spend more time with you since I’m probably not gonna see you again for another week.”
He was going to make my life better.
Oh God.
Oh my.
Oh crap.
He was right. He already had. Expensive phones. Safe apartment. Saved costs of a taxi. Succulent steaks. My girls enduring a scene and getting VIP vouchers and escorts to their car to try to make it better.
“Shit car, babe. Gotta get you something decent.”
Oh God.
He was thinking of buying me a car!
“Anya?”
My body jolted and my eyes focused on him.
“Knight, I don’t know.”
He was three feet away.
Then he wasn’t, his hands were cupping my jaw again and his face was all I could see.
“Babe, eat what you want, drink what you want, watch TV or a movie and just wait for me. All I’m askin’ is for your time and, when I get back, your company. And I’m tellin’ you I really want you to give it to me,” he said gently.
God, seriously, he liked me.
And I liked how much he liked me.
Because, call me crazy, I liked him.
“Okay,” I agreed.
I watched from close as his eyes smiled.
My heart squeezed and my lips parted.
Then I watched from close as his eyes dropped to my mouth. Then I watched them darken.
At that, my br**sts swelled, my knees got weak and my one free hand came up to grab onto the side of his tee at his waist.
“Fuck, wanna take that mouth,” he muttered like he was talking to himself but I heard him since he was right there with me, looking at my mouth, eyes now dark and hungry and that tingle slid up my spine, my neck, radiating over my scalp as another tingle hit a secret place deep inside me.
Okay, right.
Okay, God.
I wanted him to “take” my mouth. I wanted that with every part of me.
My body swayed into his but his hands tensed on my jaw and his eyes moved to mine.
“Not now, baby,” he whispered. “I take your mouth, I wanna give it time and attention and I don’t have the first and, I give it the last, I won’t do what I gotta do.”
Jeez, this guy was weird. Hot, but weird.
“I can’t,” I told him. “I have class.”
“Class?” he asked.
“School. Beauty school. I’m getting certification in skin technology.”
“Tuesday,” he stated immediately and I shook my head.
“Clients. Two of them. One at six thirty. One at eight.”
“Clients?”
“I’m already a certified nail technician. Both are acrylics.”
He turned to face me fully and asked, “Why do you take clients on evenings and weekends?”
“Because I work as a file clerk full-time during the day.”
He studied me.
Then he murmured, “Life isn’t good, find a way to make it that way or at least make it better.”
“What?” I asked quietly but I knew what. Those were my own words coming back to me.
“Don’t know shit about this,” he announced. “Do women who do nails need to have a full-time job to cover their asses?”
“Um… no. But I only have a part-time clientele. To rent a station in a salon or whatever and make a living at it, I need a full-time clientele. I’m working to that.”
“Babe, full-time work with school, just pointing out, that’s an impossible feat.”
“I only have a few weeks left on my skin technology certification so I can start taking clients on Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday nights. That’ll make it easier. And I can diversify and pick up facial clients too.”
His mouth got tight. Then his eyes went back to the Range.
“Knight?” I called.
His eyes cut back to me. “Schedule you keep, babe, no time for me. Not likin’ that.”
I pressed my lips together because this was kind of true.
“I don’t work Saturday nights and most of Sundays,” I said softly.
“I do work Saturday nights which leaves only Sundays,” he replied then repeated, “So, not likin’ that.”
Jeez. He said he liked me but evidence was suggesting he liked me.
And I liked that.
“You come to the club on Saturday,” he declared. “Bring your girls. I’ll give you a VIP and send a car for you and them. Any friends you got that you want there, I’ll give you Kathleen’s number, she’ll get you the passes you need for them to join you in your section. I’ll spend time with you in the club if I got it but rest up, you’ll be spending time with me after I’m done. I also claim Sunday.”
“I have clients on Sunday morning,” I told him.
“I’ll take you home to take them and I’ll pick you up to spend the rest of Sunday with me.”
Take me home?
This meant he assumed I’d be spending the night with him.
And I liked his assumption.
My heart squeezed.
The cell in Knight’s back pocket rang.
“Give me a second, babe,” he muttered, pulling it out, looking at the display then hitting a button and putting it to his ear. “Yo,” he greeted, paused then there was a semi-growled, “Tell me you’re shittin’ me.” Another pause then an annoyed, “What time is it?” Pause then, “Why the f**k did she wait until nearly two f**kin’ thirty to drag her ass to you?” Silence then, “Jesus, f**k, this bitch is gonna do my f**kin’ head in. Shit for brains. She report he’s a regular?” Pause then, more annoyed, as in far more annoyed, “He’s done it before?” Another pause then, sinisterly quietly, “Oh no. This is a message I’m gonna relay. Got Anya with me. Gonna get her settled and I’ll meet you at the club.” Pause then, “Right. Twenty, maybe thirty. Later.”
He hit a button and his eyes came to me.
“I gotta go do something and I want you to wait here for me.”
“Maybe I should –” I began but he shook his head.
“I want you to wait here for me.”
“Knight –”
“Anya, you aren’t gettin’ this but two weeks ago when you walked into my bedroom to use my phone, the life you been livin’ which isn’t all that good got better. A f**kuva lot better. Because I’m gonna make it that way. And in return, I’m gonna ask very little of you. And right now, all I’m askin’ is for you to hang here until I come home so I can spend more time with you since I’m probably not gonna see you again for another week.”
He was going to make my life better.
Oh God.
Oh my.
Oh crap.
He was right. He already had. Expensive phones. Safe apartment. Saved costs of a taxi. Succulent steaks. My girls enduring a scene and getting VIP vouchers and escorts to their car to try to make it better.
“Shit car, babe. Gotta get you something decent.”
Oh God.
He was thinking of buying me a car!
“Anya?”
My body jolted and my eyes focused on him.
“Knight, I don’t know.”
He was three feet away.
Then he wasn’t, his hands were cupping my jaw again and his face was all I could see.
“Babe, eat what you want, drink what you want, watch TV or a movie and just wait for me. All I’m askin’ is for your time and, when I get back, your company. And I’m tellin’ you I really want you to give it to me,” he said gently.
God, seriously, he liked me.
And I liked how much he liked me.
Because, call me crazy, I liked him.
“Okay,” I agreed.
I watched from close as his eyes smiled.
My heart squeezed and my lips parted.
Then I watched from close as his eyes dropped to my mouth. Then I watched them darken.
At that, my br**sts swelled, my knees got weak and my one free hand came up to grab onto the side of his tee at his waist.
“Fuck, wanna take that mouth,” he muttered like he was talking to himself but I heard him since he was right there with me, looking at my mouth, eyes now dark and hungry and that tingle slid up my spine, my neck, radiating over my scalp as another tingle hit a secret place deep inside me.
Okay, right.
Okay, God.
I wanted him to “take” my mouth. I wanted that with every part of me.
My body swayed into his but his hands tensed on my jaw and his eyes moved to mine.
“Not now, baby,” he whispered. “I take your mouth, I wanna give it time and attention and I don’t have the first and, I give it the last, I won’t do what I gotta do.”
