Page 48 of A Little Kissing Between Friends

“Nah, man. Shorty is on her way out.” I hope that Jucee knew that I meant out of my life and not just out of POST. “This won’t happen again.” When she didn’t respond, I felt compelled to get her to understand. “I’m serious, Jucee. I’m not with her. You know that, right?”

“Mm,” she hummed noncommittally, her disbelief woven into the short sound making me want to double down.

“Juc—”

She shook her head and pulled out of my grasp. “Get back to Shorty before she has a fit.” Jerking her chin over my shoulder, she gestured for me to go back in the direction where I’d left Jackie.

I didn’t want to do that shit. That wasn’t what I’d had in mind when I’d planned this meet-up. It was supposed to happen differently, with us back hugging and kissing and comfortable enough to cuddle while she binged reality TV and I scrolled social media.

What the hell did I have to do to get us back there?

Chapter Fourteen

Jucee

Dance for You

I might’ve been dumb enough to sleep with Poppa, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think it would be easy to fall back into the easy camaraderie of our friendship in the aftermath. In fact, I’d fully expected it to be pure torture. Even if we somehow managed to keep things from being physically awkward, I knew that mentally I’d be a wreck. I figured that my newfound knowledge of the way her pussy felt and tasted would be too distracting for me to just “get back to normal.” I thought that would be the hardest part.

Fun fact: it was even worse than I could’ve imagined.

It never really occurred to me how much time me and Poppa spent together on a daily basis. Not until I was wishing for some space between us. I needed reprieve from the constant bombarding of emotions I suffered every single time she dropped a kiss onto my temple or slung an arm around my shoulder. All I was asking for was twenty-four hours without taking into consideration that we spent an average of nine hours a day in each other’s presence. Maybe not every single day, but at least four days out of the week. And since I’d assured her that our friendship was still intact after our little...incidents, it seemed like she wanted to spend even more time together being friendly as fuck.

I hated to say it, but it was driving me crazy.

I needed to breathe and she was suffocating me. The thing is, I couldn’t even be angry with her because she just wanted to make sure we hadn’t ruined our friendship while wanting something beyond it, but dammit, I felt so cloistered! I needed space to get my mind right, but if I asked for some breathing room, Poppa would think the worst and try to double down on “quality time.” On top of that was the underlying threat of the investors trying to buy Sanity from under Mal. The threat of losing my safe space and the stress from my Poppa overdoing it was too much for me.

She’d left me no choice but to lie. Which was how I ended up at work on a Thursday. Poppa had wanted me to come over and watch some show with her, but I begged off, telling her that I had to help Mercedes with something. In reality, I was calling Mal and asking if I could come in to work. I needed the distraction, and the night crowd at Sanity would give me exactly that. I loved my day-timers, but it was a completely different vibe after nine. The place wasn’t packed to the rafters, so it wasn’t quite like a Friday night, but it definitely could hold its own. The crowd near the stage grew when my name was announced, and the love I received once my dance was over was more than sufficient.

Emerging from the back, I worked the room, the high from my dance relaxing me better than any drug could have. As I was heading to the back of the main floor where the paid sections were at, a woman stepped into my path with an earnest expression on her face. Caramel-skinned with a halo of kinky coils, she barely reached my chin.

“Omigosh, Jucee,” she breathed. “I love you!”

Grinning, I dipped my head. “Thank you, gorgeous.”

Turning, she pointed toward the elevated section. “Today is my baby sister’s twenty-first birthday, and I want to buy her a lap dance to celebrate.”

“Aww,” I cooed. My heartstrings were sufficiently tugged. What better way to help someone bring in a new year of life than with ass shaking in their face? “That’s so sweet. Let’s go see baby sis.”

I followed the woman up the steps to a cluster of about ten women who had pushed two tables together that were topped with two platters of wings, sides, and assorted drinks. Most of the women were in good spirits, immediately telling me how much they had enjoyed my set, but the one who I’d come to see was noticeably silent. There was no need for the eager woman to point her sister out, because it was quite clear which one she was. Sitting at one end of the joined tables with birthday balloons tied to her chair and wearing a sash that announced it was her birthday, a baby butch with a matching head of coils slicked up into an afro puff and her hairline tapered at her temples, wearing a bowtie, looked visibly uncomfortable the closer I came toward her. The other women began cheering as I approached her, but the way her fingers tightened on the table edge brought the mama out of me.

“Hey, birthday boo,” I said, bending at the waist to speak directly into her ear.

Her eyes flicked from my face, down to my titties that were strategically busting out of my rhinestone triangle bikini top, and then over to her sister before landing back on my titties.

“Uh...hey.”

“Happy birthday.”

Prying her eyes from my chest, she quickly glanced at my face as she said, “Thank you.”

“You okay?”

“Yea—” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Yeah, I’m cool.”

Tilting my head to the side, I caught her eyes. “Your sister wants me to give you a lap dance, but something tells me you don’t want that.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, just shot a quick glance over at her sister as she sucked her teeth.