Page 24 of Anything Necessary for Her (Crenshaw Kings #9)

“Smart ass. I’m not letting you smoke, Peep. You need ya fucking lungs.”

“You think I’ve never smoked before?” I heightened my brow.

“What nigga you been smoking with?”

“Not a nigga, my friends who also dance. I only do it occasionally, not a lot like a few of them,” I elaborated.

“Aight.” He sat up. “Only if you promise to never smoke with anybody but me from now on.” He looked deeply into my eyes.

“Not even Kailey?”

“Not even Kailey.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes, and he dug into his pocket to retrieve a gold case.

Opening it, he pulled an already rolled blunt out and then his lighter from another pocket.

“You don’t add cocaine to your shit, right?

” I messed with him, making him cut his eyes at me as I chuckled.

“To the balcony.” I hopped off the bed and started toward the double doors that led to my balcony, with Low on my heels.

We sat down on the comfortable bench before he lit it, took a pull, and then handed it to me. I did the same before coughing roughly.

“You definitely don’t smoke a lot.” He toked on it again. “This that good shit though.”

“And you’re just smoking it like it’s nothing.” I watched him, stunned as he smiled slightly before inhaling again.

He outreached it to me, and I obliged, listening to him guide me on how to do it. After a few more puffs on it, I was no longer coughing up my lungs.

I started to feel the high almost immediately, rocking slowly a bit to “Burning Blue” playing softly in my bedroom and floating out to my balcony. “I love this song.”

“I can tell. You over there rocking like a fiend or some shit.”

“Shut up!” I elbowed him, rising and not missing how his eyes fell to my ass as I adjusted the already short dress.

I went to raise the volume just a smidgen before returning to the balcony. Taking his blunt, I ashed it on the concrete flooring of the balcony before straddling him. Low took a moment before relenting and allowing his hands to grace my hips.

Falling back against the bench, his hands moved absentmindedly up and down my sides and hips before he said, “You gon’ be a problem, Miss St. Thomas.” He licked his lips, eyes low like he was high as hell but also in deep thought.

Gripping the front of his wife beater, I tugged him upward before hugging his neck. He didn’t protest, moving his hands under the nightie and gripping my bare ass as our lips crashed together. Our kiss deepened, becoming more passionate and hungrier as our tongues came in contact.

Moans escaped both of our mouths as I caressed the back of his head, and his hands moved about, groping my ass as if it belonged to him.

“Low.” I sniveled, feeling his mouth latch onto my neck as he began to suck on it. I pressed my pussy into his hardening dick and began to grind imperceptibly as Mariah the Scientist sang the last few lines of her song.

“Let me call yo’ people and let ’em know ’bout us so we can fuck, Peep,” he said against the skin of my neck, his breath sending tingles throughout my frame.

Giggling, I peeled his hands from my ass and got out of his lap. “I’m not fucking you, Low.”

He opened his mouth to respond, dick tenting his pants again, but my phone chiming and doorbell sounding off interrupted him.

Unlocking my device, I ventured to my security app to see Trayvon on the camera, holding flowers which had been his M.O. the past few months.

“Fuck is that?” Low frowned, unable to see since it was a privacy screen on my phone.

“What?” I asked Trayvon, making Low lean over and see who I was speaking to via the microphone.

He sucked his teeth, sitting upright and shaking his head as he peered out over the balcony.

“I need to come in and talk right quick. Please.” Trayvon adjusted his baseball cap as he stared at my door, looking distressed.

“No. You can’t. If you need to talk to me, it has to be through the camera. Now what do you have to say?”

I could feel my palms become slick with perspiration as I held onto my phone for dear life.

I refused to look Low’s way because I could feel the fire radiating off his body from how bothered he was.

Usually, I would’ve allowed Trayvon in to say his piece, mainly because I was single and could do what I wanted, but also, I felt a little bad for throwing him into the lion’s den that are my brothers.

Sighing, Trayvon replied, “I wanna talk about us. I miss you, and I realize I overreacted a little bit about your brothers.”

“And it took you weeks to come to this conclusion?” I frowned, staring out over the balcony and enjoying the cold wind.

“I—”

“Aye, she busy right now, nigga. You gon’ have to find another fucking time to come through and talk.” Low had snatched the phone.

Trayvon stammered as Low waited for him to respond, before he turned to walk away.

I rolled my eyes on the low, seeing Trayvon still hadn’t learned from the situation with my brothers, and while he was a nice guy, I needed a man who had a little more thug in him or at least the initiative to stand up for himself.

Low rose up, tossing my phone into my lap before reentering my bedroom.

I made sure it was locked before I did the same, finding him in my bathroom brushing his teeth with one of the many plastic wrapped toothbrushes I kept for when I would be spending a night away from home and wanted to grab something quickly.

I did the same, only using my normal daily toothbrush, and we stood before my horizontally long mirror at the elegant double sinks, brushing our teeth.

He used one of the individually packaged mouthwashes I kept for the same reason as the toothbrushes, while I used my bottle, and then he walked out.

No words had been exchanged between the two of us the entire time, but as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom after putting on some more face lotion since brushing my teeth had stripped it from my face, Low quizzed with hooded eyes, “You on some player shit? You still fucking him?”

Folding my arms as I stood before him seated on my bed, I replied, “How when I haven’t seen him since my brother’s birthday party?” I eyed him as he looked off, still visibly peeved. Steering his eyes toward mine, using his chin, I added, “I haven’t fucked anyone . . . ever.”

I’d gone back and forth on revealing this to Low on several occasions.

I’d never been embarrassed about being a virgin at my big age, but being around Low and seeing how sexually active he was and with whom, did breed a little bit of insecurity within me.

However, if he didn’t like it, that was perfectly fine.

“What you mean when you say ever?” His eyebrow lifted.

“Just what it sounds like. I’m a virgin.”

“Shit.” He stared up at me, pulling me closer by the hips to stand between his cocked open legs. “You serious, Peep, or you bullshitting? I’m too high for this shit.”

Laughing, I responded, “I’m serious, Willow.”

“Damn. Why? Ya brothers?”

“Yeah fucking right! Maybe when I was a teenager, they could’ve stopped it, but now, absolutely not.

I haven’t had sex yet because I had yet to meet a man that makes me feel like he is worthy of fucking me.

It’s not like we have to get married after or anything like that, but make me wanna fuck you. ”

Our eyes latched onto one another’s, and I could tell by the way he licked his full lips that he’d picked up on what I was putting down.

“I like that.” He nodded. “So ain’t no nigga walking around saying he fucked Banks St. Thomas, huh?”

“If he is, he’s lying.” I brought my hand up to caress his beard. I’d begun to love doing that. “I think I’ve met a potential now though.”

He turned his head some to rest his lips against the palm of my hand, closing his eyes for a beat.

“I don’t know, Peep. When I thought you was already fucking, I contemplated, but I can’t be the first. Yo’ first gotta be a stand-up nigga. Real shit.”

“Like you?”

He smiled so cutely it made me want to kiss him, but I refrained, enjoying the subtle touches between us like his big hands that had yet to stop caressing my ass and hips, lovingly not lustfully.

“Nah. I’m not. You the only woman that sees this version of me, and it ain’t even all the way good.”

“So you’re saying you’re not shit?”

He laughed.

“In this type of situation . . . low-key.”

We chuckled in unison. Mine ceased as I drank him in for a moment, admiring his brown skin, full lips, sweet brown eyes that held a lot more worry and stress than any other twenty-six-year-old.

“If you weren’t shit, do you think my brother would’ve passed all his hard work onto you?” I cocked my head.

“That’s work though. I’m good at what I do when it come to that shit.”

“If you were a terrible person, my brother wouldn’t have given you anything and wouldn’t have been working with you.

I know him.” I bobbed my head, and Low was speechless for the moment.

“He passed this to you and not the many others he could have because he knows what type of man you are. He chose you .

“I can like anyone, but I like you .” I kissed him slowly, hands still on both sides of his face.

“And this is not the schoolgirl crush from some years ago. I don’t like niggas easily, Mr. Harris, as you can tell from the information I just gave you.

A man has to make a hell of an impression on me for me to feel some type of way about him and be wanting to fuck him.

Trayvon is a college graduate, going to the MLB, very handsome.

” I snickered when Low sucked his teeth at my last comment.

“But he didn’t have what it took to pull me in.

I see something in you. Sif saw something in you, and now it’s your turn. ”

We pressed our foreheads together as he chewed on my words before he questioned, “You ever received some shit so perfect you don’t even wanna touch it? You think you gon’ mess it up, or you know you will and don’t want to?”

“Yes. Whenever Presley makes my birthday cakes,” I half joked, making him simper slightly.