Page 14

MODEST GOON

I had to see whatVelvet Southwas about.

The second we touched down in front of the spot, I knew this wasn’t a regular club.

The line was long, but the energy? Different.

Hood niggas was in designer, bad bitches in Fashion Nova and Chanel, the scent of weed and cologne thick in the air.

The neon sign above the door glowed like a siren call.

It was ghetto luxury . The walls were dark, the lights were low, VIP sections lined with black leather couches and gold tables, and the DJ spun trap all night.

They loved out-of-towners here, and my girls and I slid right in, welcomed like we were born in Southwave.

They gave us a free bottle and offered us a table, but we walked to work on the dancefloor.

I wasn’t here for the club vibes. I was looking for him . Mula.

I searched the dancefloor, scanning the bar, and every VIP section I could see.

My heart raced every time I thought I saw his face.

The music was loud, the bass hitting so hard it felt like it was in my chest, but all I could hear was that raspy, deep voice in my head. .. that smooth-ass California accent.

I had butterflies, and I hated that. I was damn near ready to give up when I felt a hand slide around my waist from the back, rough and possessive, and that voice— his voice —was in my ear, low and cocky as hell.

“Lookin’ for somebody, lil mama?”

I turned my head, and there he was. Mula.

I couldn’t even play it cool—my lips parted, and my body pressed into his.

“Yeah... maybe.”

He smirked like he already knew, his breath warm against my neck. His other hand gripped my inner thigh like it belonged there, a bottle of D’usse in his free hand.

My body heated up instantly. My stomach was tight, and my heart raced in my chest.

He leaned in, his lips almost touching my ear. “Get your girls... and follow me to my section in the back.”

“No wonder I couldn’t find you,” I said, catching up.

“Oh... so you were looking for me?” he asked, that smirk still there.

“Yes, boy... I was.”

He laughed low, and my stomach flipped.

I turned to my girls. They were already watching, wide-eyed.

“My crew, let’s go,” I mouthed, and I could tell they were hyped .

Mula walked off, smooth as hell, glancing back once to make sure I was coming.

I bit my lip, letting my eyes run over him. He was dressed down in all black, and the diamonds in his Mula chain danced in the dark.

His section was a whole movie—bottles were popping, clouds of smoke floated in the air, music so loud it felt like it was in my veins. His crew was laid back, but you could tell— they were about business .

The night was a blur. Mula didn’t say much, but the way his hands gripped my hips when I danced on him? The way he let me grind on his lap like I was the only thing he wanted to touch? He wanted me.

I felt his hard dick pressed against me, and I ain’t even care. He slid his hand up my thigh a couple times, fingers brushing my pussy lips when he moved my thong to the side, making me shiver. I let my ass roll slow, letting the tension build, feeling his breath catch in my ear.

When the night was over, and I was breathing heavy, tipsy as hell, heart pounding out of my chest, he didn’t even try to take me home when we all got outside.

“So, you want to go to my hotel so it’s not awkward at your place or something?” I asked, and because I knew he was just as ready as I was.

“I can’t even be with you tonight.”

I pulled back, blinking at him and trying to play it cool.

“Let me guess... You got a girl or something?”

He shook his head, and his eyes locked on mine like he was reading me.

“Nah, I’m single. But I wanna fuck with you... on some sober shit.”

My eyebrows raised. “Oh, yeah?”

“You got one more day here. Spend it with me—on some daytime shit. See where that leads us. Put your number in my phone.”

I smirked, feeling the butterflies jumping again, trying to play it off.

“A gangsta and a gentleman... I like that.” I took his phone and put my number in.

He just smiled, nodding once like he’d already decided.

I watched him walk off, sliding into the back of a black Rolls-Royce truck. Somebody who looked like security was opening the door for him. I stared at him as the door closed, lip tucked between my teeth, until Rio tugged my arm.

“Bitch... the Uber’s here!”

I snapped out of it, sliding into the backseat of the car, watching the Rolls pull off in the opposite direction.

Back in my hotel room, high up in that fancy-ass high-rise, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Mula. His voice. His touch. The way he smelled. The way he moved.

I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, whispering under my breath.

Please, God... don’t let me fall first for this man.

I had a little secret. Well, it wasn’t a secret in Starlight Hills. When a man showed me too much attention, I got... possessive. It already landed me in jail once, stalking my ex. I wasn’t going to do that with Mula. He was just a summer fling.

Nothing more... nothing less. But damn... he was a good catch.