Page 7

Nia’Rose.

Nervously, I fidgeted with my nails as we pulled into the gates of my townhome. I was on edge for several reasons. One, I had to catch a ride with my student, and now this man had the code to access where I rested my head. To make matters worse, neither of my sisters still wasn’t answering their phones. I told myself that if they didn’t respond by the time I changed, I’d jump into my car and race back to the club. I was worried sick.

“Thanks for everything,” I said to Prosper as he came to a complete stop. “I’ll get your phone back to you right after I go to Verizon tomorrow.”

The situation was far from appropriate, but I couldn't overlook the fact that he had been a true gentleman, ensuring I made it home safely.

“You don’t have to rush with the phone. I ain’t trippin’.”

Just then, his phone rang, breaking the awkward silence that was forming between us. I glanced down and saw Shay’s number flashing on his screen. I answered immediately.

“Sis,” I deeply exhaled in relief.

“Girl… sis! I am so glad it’s you. Where are you?”

“I made it home.”

“What? How?”

“Once I couldn’t find you guys, I got a ride from someone I knew at the club. I’m okay, just was worried about you and Steph. I was about to head back there now that I’m near my car.”

“No, no! Stay home. Too much going on out here. We’re fine. We were just freaking out when we couldn’t find you. The damn cops came and cleared the club. They wouldn’t let anyone back inside. Me and Steph left our phones in the car. We just came and got them. Where’s your phone?”

“I lost mine. It was inside my clutch. The strap must’ve slipped from my wrist when I was running. Those gunshots scared the hell out of my ass.”

“Don’t remind me. Girl, that was crazy.”

“Yep, and just so we are clear, I’m never going out with you chicken heads again. I swear every place you pick ends up being crazy, Shay.”

“Damn, I know, right? Ugh. I’m starting to think I’m cursed.”

We both laughed.

“I’ll get a new phone tomorrow and call you guys.” I promised her.

“Okay, make sure you do.”

“And you’re safe at home, right?” Stephanie’s voice chimed in from the background.

Knowing how overprotective she was, I decided to FaceTime. When she answered, I said,

“Yes, sis. I promise I’m fine.”

She breathed a sigh of relief seeing me. “And who you said brought you home, again?”

I snickered, knowing she remembered my earlier explanation; she was just trying to see if my story would change. To her, that meant potential danger.

“Someone I ran into that I know. I promise I’m good.” I downplayed.

“Okay, I love you. Call me as soon as you get your phone, Nia.”

“Will do. Love you too.”

After ending the call, I glanced back at Prosper and placed the phone inside his cup holder. “Guess I don’t need this after all.”

“Nah, you still need it.”

“I know my sisters are safe, and I’m going to the phone store first thing in the morning. I don’t need it.”

“Look, it ain’t safe for you to be home alone all night without a phone. You either keep it, or I’ll take you to my place until the phone store opens.”

“Quit threatening me with your place. That’s not happening.”

“And neither is you giving up the phone.” Prosper reached down, grabbed the phone, and placed it back on my thigh. “Shit,”

As he winced, I realized he had accidentally grabbed it with his injured hand. The phone was now smeared with blood. My gaze then drifted to his wrapped hand, and I suddenly remembered I hadn’t asked what caused this.

“What happened?”

He shrugged. “Chasing after you, I stumbled into a table. Shit had broken glass on it.”

“I see,” I replied, my concern growing. “You must’ve cut it pretty badly. It’s soaking through your shirt.”

“It’s all good. And…worth it. I wasn’t about to let shit happen to you.”

Looking into his eyes, I felt a spark of something I couldn’t quite understand. We held each other’s gaze until I broke the tension of whatever the hell was brewing between us and reached out to unwrap and carefully examine his hand. Why? I’m not exactly sure what compelled me to do this.

“Your next stop should be an emergency room. You need to have a doctor look at this ASAP.”

“Nah, I’ma just go home and clean it up myself.”

“You can’t just clean this up yourself. The wound is way too deep.”

“I ain’t got time to be sittin’ up in no hospital. I’m straight.”

“Don’t be ignorant,” I said as I examined the blood loss further. “The bleeding hasn’t stopped. I’m pretty sure you’ll need stitches.”

“Stitches?”

“Yeah. I mean look at it.”

Prosper glanced down, nonchalantly. “Shit… it don’t look that bad to me.”

The look on his face told me that he wouldn’t go to a doctor, no matter what I said. Typical hood nigga; he truly did not give a fuck.

“You’re really not going to go to a hospital no matter what I say, are you?”

“Nah, I ain’t even gon hold you, mama.”

“Okay, Prosper. What if I stitch it? After all you did for me tonight, it’s the least I could do.”

His eyes shot up from his hand to me, and his black ass started grinning like he’d hit the lottery. I instantly regretted my genuine kindness.

“What you know about stitching, Ms. Mosley?”

“A lot, actually. I was taught as a teenager.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s either stitches or you let that thing stay open and get infected. A severe infection can lead to permanent scarring or worse—amputation.”

“A nigga ain’t trippin’ ‘bout no scarring, but I ain’t tryna lose my fuckin’ hand.”

“Well,” I shrugged, leaving the ball in his court.

“Aight, say less. Let’s do it then, baby.”

∞∞∞

Prosper.

“Don’t call me that.” Ms. Mosley warned, frowning.

I admired the scowl, thinking she was sexy as hell when she was irritated. “I love callin’ you that though.”

She sighed in defeat before saying, “I’ll bring everything down and get you cleaned up. Then you go, okay?”

“Aight,”

After watching her safely walk into her place, I backed into a nearby parking space so that I could make sure I saw her clearly when she stepped back out. It took her a minute and I began to think she had changed her mind and decided to leave my ass out here, looking goofy. But the joke was on her because I wasn’t going nowhere. She had me worried that something might’ve happened in that muthafucka.

Just as I was about to go knock on her door, I saw her come out with a first aid kit. As she locked her door, I noticed she had changed her heels to neutral-colored Crocs, pinned her hair up, and put on her glasses.

“Thought you forgot about me,” I said as she slid into the passenger seat.

“No, couldn’t find my glasses.”

“You just losing everything tonight, huh, beautiful?”

“Prosper, let me see.” She smacked her lips, ignoring my flirtation.

Handing her my hand, I watched as she began to clean and prep it. Her touch was soft as fuck, and the warmth of her manicured hand against mine made it difficult for me to maintain my composure. Soon, I felt my dick hardening again.

Thankfully, the light in the middle of the car only illuminated my hand, drawing her focus solely on the wound. After cleaning it, she retrieved the needle and thread. But just before she started, I reached into the cupholder, grabbed my Styrofoam cup I was sipping on prior to the club, and settled back in my seat to relax.

“That’s not a good idea.” She cut her eyes at my cup.

“Why not?”

"You're drinking Lean, which contains codeine and is very dangerous. Not to mention, you've lost blood. This puts you at a higher risk of getting into an accident."

“Nah, I’m straight.”

“Prosper,” she stared at me, worried.

“You really care about my well-being, huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just a good person.”

We stared at one another before I broke the silence. “I promise not to finish it, aight? Just sippin’ to alleviate the pain.”

Nodding, she went back at it. I didn’t even realize how deep the cut was until I watched her get me together. About thirty-five minutes later, I was straight.

“Who taught you to stitch, baby?” I questioned curiously, but she remained quiet. “So, we back to the quiet game?”

“When you address me properly, I’ll speak.”

“Who taught you to stitch, Ms. Mosley.” I gave in, only for the moment though.

Pausing as she applied the gauze to my wound, she glanced up over her glasses and said,

“My father. He’s a surgeon.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s dope but weird as fuck. I mean I get he’s a surgeon but what’s the reason you needed to know that? He just decided to teach you that shit out of the blue or there was a purpose?”

A faint grin tugged at the corner of her lips, but she quickly concealed it. “You have a very potty mouth, Mr. Shakur.”

“You don’t like that, baby? I can change it.”

“Jesus,” She huffed, visibly defeated.

“There was a purpose. One day, Steph cut her leg badly while we were camping. I watched my father stitch it up, and he noticed my interest. From then on, he made it a point to practice with me. Honestly, he taught us many things because he wanted us to be self-sufficient. I can change a tire better than a man.”

“I think that’s dope,” I nodded my head, applauding her pops. He sounded like a good nigga. “But wasn’t needed.”

“Why not?”

“Cause one day you would meet and marry me, and when you mine, you don’t touch tires. In fact, you hardly touch anything at all. I do everything for you.”

She shook her head. “Alright… I think my kindness tonight has you confused. Let’s get something straight. I’m not yours and will never be yours.”

I leaned over the console, closing the small gap between us. “Was it just kindness when you let me hold you in that club? Or was it you genuinely feelin’ me? ‘Cause even your body told me you were mine.”

Her brows dipped. “No, that was me drunk, and I can admit that it was totally out of line. But I promise it won’t ever happen again.” She released my hand and grabbed her kit to leave. “Good night, Prosper.”

“Nah, hold up, mama. I didn’t mean no disrespect.” I hurriedly reached for her as she opened the door, purposely allowing another wince to escape me. I pretended as if the pain from my wound was more intense than it was.

“Fuck,” I laid it on thick.

“You need to ease up on that hand.” She fell right into my trap, her eyes brimming with concern. Ms. Mosley had a heart of gold; I had noticed that too over the past few months of her being my professor.

“Those stitches can bust if you’re not careful.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I fell in line before she took off on my black ass for real.

“Prosper, what else do you want? I really need to go."

"Just wanted to let you know that you forgot your keys." I dangled the keys I had discreetly taken from the cupholder earlier near my chest.

“Now, how you gonna get inside your crib without ‘em?”

Her nose flared.

“Or better yet, how will you get around tomorrow?”

“Give them here.”

Ms. Mosley tried to reach for the keys, but I quickly concealed them near my left side. If she wanted them, she’d have to come across my lap and take them, which was exactly what I craved for her to do.

“Prosper,” she called, hesitating to lean over and collect.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing? Just give me my gotdamn keys.”

A grin spread across my face at the sound of that. “I see I’m not the only one with a potty mouth, Ms. Mosley.”

“Just give me my keys.”

“I will… after we talk more.”

“I’m done talking to you.”

“Don’t be like that wit’ me. I won’t keep you long.”

Realizing I wouldn’t give in, she eventually slammed the door shut. “What do you want to talk about?”

I watched as she began to pick at her nails, trying to mask her nervousness. It hit me that she had gotten them redone. “I love that color on you the most.” I told her.

“What do you mean, the most?”

“You often rotate between pink, black, and white polish. I’m telling you that I love black the most on you.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s my favorite color and you look good as hell in it.”

She nodded, chewing on the corner of her lip. “You pay that much attention, huh?”

“I do,” I made clear, taking things a step further. “I’m taking you out next weekend.”

“Come again?” Her head whipped around to face me.

“Yeah, Friday at 7 PM, to be exact. So, wear a black dress for me.”

“Prosper, I already told your psychotic ass I’m not going on a date with you.”

I chuckled at the insult. “Deep down, you want to, though.”

Ms. Mosley grew quiet on me, battling with her emotions. I could see the tension written all over her face.

“Nia’Rose,” I called out, using the name from my class schedule to grab her attention as I draped my arm around her headrest.

Nervously, she glanced up at me, and I leaned in closer, catching the faint scent of the martinis she had been sipping.

“You know I appreciate you for taking care of me tonight, right?” I thanked her.

“No problem.”

I noticed her heart rate quickening against her exposed chest from my proximity.

“So, let me show that appreciation.”

“How?”

“Let me take you out and spoil you, mama.”

"I can't do that, Prosper."

“Why not?” I then traced a line from her bottom lip down to the center of her neck and across the curve of her breast, which sat up beautifully in her dress. Shit was certainly out of line, but I couldn’t help myself. Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to her.

“Stop,” she said, gently pulling my hand away. But it wasn’t a gesture of discomfort; it was a sign of her desire, mingled with a fear of crossing boundaries. If she had truly been angry with my actions, I’m sure she would have struck me and exited the vehicle long before now.

“You know why.”

“Is you being my professor the only reason you won’t?”

She shifted, twirling a piece of her hair. “There are others.”

“But is that the biggest reason? ‘Cause I’m positive the other shit can be worked out.”

Silence hung heavily between us.

“Keep it real with me. It’s just us here. No need to put on a front. I promise I won’t tell a soul.” I pushed.

“It’s not you telling that frightens me, Prosper. It’s the thought of you discovering the truth and fighting even harder for me that gives me pause.”

“What’s the truth?” I hooked her chin. I was finally getting somewhere… we were getting somewhere.

“Your presence makes me weak.”

“The feeling is mutual, baby.”

She shut her eyes. “And because of that, I can’t have you fighting harder because I just might cave.”

“Answer my question.”

“ Yes ,” she opened her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper as if admitting it brought her a sense of embarrassment. “You being my student is the biggest reason I can’t do this. So, can I have my keys so I can go on about my way?”

I released her as my gaze wandered into the darkness beyond the window. I was plotting my next move.

“Prosper, can I have my keys now?” She repeated.

Loving the way my name rolled off her lips, I played nice, lifting the keys into the air.

Ms. Mosley eyed them, took a deep breath, and reached over my lap. That’s when I seized the moment. She was right. Now that I knew the truth, I would fight harder with the hope that she’d finally fuckin’ break.

My lips crashed against hers, and her body melted into mine like she had already anticipated my move. I started with a gentle peck. When she didn’t pull away, it deepened into something more, me capturing her bottom lip and hungrily sucking on that muthafucka. The soft whimper that escaped her made my dick hard as a rock again. However, for a quick second, I felt her body stiffen on me as if she were having second thoughts.

“Relax, baby. Don’t paint me to be that kind of nigga.” I begged her to let go of her reservations, to embrace the chemistry that was so potent between us.

“What do you mean?”

“Paint me as if I’m taking shit from you. I want you to open up to me. Show me you want me too, ‘cause I know you do. I can sense it.”

“I do want you.” She let slip.

“Then show me.”

She surrendered with a nod, parting her lips. The tip of my tongue sought hers and I licked repeatedly before fully claiming it.

“Mmmmmmm,” she moaned, and in that instant, her body was mine again.

Not giving a fuck about these stitches, I placed one hand on her ass, squeezing while the other slid down the straps of her dress. As the fabric fell away, her breasts revealed themselves, and I couldn't help but whistle at the sight.

Ms. Mosley was likely a C-cup, and her large brown nipples contrasted beautifully against her lighter skin, bringing out the dawg in me. Leaning down, I latched onto one while my hand slid up her dress. My fingers hooked the center of her panties, exploring until I eased two into her.

“Ahhhh,” she gasped, arching her back and rocking against my hand.

Captivated by the sound of her wetness, I withdrew my fingers and brought them to my nose, savoring her scent as she watched me intently. Highly satisfied, I tasted every drop she produced, and then gently slid back inside her. Her pussy immediately responded, clamping down as if it had missed me in that brief moment.

This time, after collecting her arousal, I freed myself from my pants and used it to stroke as I refocused on her breasts. I pleased us both repeatedly until the urgency became overwhelming. I craved more. I needed her tight ass pussy wrapped around my dick, and I needed it now.