Page 64 of Omar

Cee barely looked up. "How long?"

"Twenty minutes, maybe thirty. Girl stuff."

He shrugged and went back to his phone. Asha and Nene walked out the front door together, turned left past the bodega, turned right at the corner.

I pulled onto DeKalb and found a spot past the bodega where the street curved and the sightline from the salon was blocked.

At one-fifteen Asha came around the corner walking fast. She was in leggings and a denim jacket, her bag across her body, her eyes scanning the street before they found my car. She got in, closed the door, and let out a breath.

Nene kept walking in the other direction, already on her phone, ready to loop back to the salon in twenty minutes and wait for Asha to return.

"How long?" I asked.

"Twenty minutes. Maybe twenty-five before Cee starts wondering."

I pulled out and drove. The Bed-Stuy apartment was fifteen minutes away, which left us nothing. I headed east instead, past the residential blocks toward the industrial stretch near the water where we kept a warehouse for storage. The lot behind it was fenced, gated, no cameras. I had the fob on my keys.

I pulled through the gate, parked behind the building where the car was hidden from the street, and killed the engine. The lot was empty. Chain-link fence on three sides, the warehouse wall on the fourth. Nobody coming back here without a reason.

Asha looked at the warehouse, then at me. "Romantic."

"Best I got on twenty minutes' notice."

She laughed. That laugh hit me in the chest the same way it had since we were sixteen. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned toward me in the passenger seat.

"Come here," she said.

I leaned across the console and kissed her. Her hand went to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, her mouth already open under mine. The kiss was different from the apartment. Hungrier. We hadn't seen each other in days because Cee had been sitting inside the salon cutting off every route, and the deprivation was all over both of us.

"Back seat," I told her.

We climbed through the gap between the front seats, clumsy, knees hitting the console, her elbow catching the headrest. She landed on the back seat laughing and I came down on top of her, my hand bracing against the door behind her head.

The back seat of my Range Rover was plenty big enough for both of us and if I'd been thinking proper I would've had that row folded flat, but I had to work with what I had. I kissed her neck while she pulled at my belt, her fingers working fast, urgent. I got my hand under her jacket, up her shirt, found her bra and pushed it up without unhooking it, my palm closing over her breast. She arched into my hand and made a sound against my ear.

"We don't got long," she breathed.

"Then stop talking."

She bit her lip and grinned. I tugged her leggings down her hips and she lifted up to help me, kicking them off one leg so they hung around her ankle on the other. Her underwear came with them. I got my jeans down far enough and she reached between us, wrapping her hand around my dick, stroking me twice before guiding me between her legs.

"Turn around," I said.

She turned over onto her knees on the back seat, her hands gripping the headrest of the passenger seat in front of her. Her ass pressed back against me and I grabbed her hips, pulled her closer, positioned myself behind her.

I pushed inside her from behind and she dropped her head forward against her forearms with a moan that fogged the window in front of her. The angle was deep, deeper than the bed, and I gripped her hips harder to hold the position. Her back curved as she pressed into me, taking everything.

"Shit," she gasped. "Oh shit, Omar."

I pulled back and thrust into her again, harder this time. The car rocked on its suspension. Her fingers whitened on the headrest. I set a pace that was fast and rough because we didn't have time for anything else, my hips slamming against her ass, the sound of skin on skin filling the car.

"Harder," she demanded, her voice muffled against her arm.

I gave her harder, drilling that pussy down. One hand on her hip, the other sliding up her spine to the back of her neck, holding her there. She pushed back against me with every thrust, meeting my rhythm. The car was creaking, rocking on its suspension, the windows completely fogged. I couldn't see anything except her body moving underneath me.

"You feel so fucking good," I groaned. "This pussy was made for me."

"Then take it," she shot back over her shoulder. "It's yours. Take it."