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“Oh, you,” I say, laughing.
He chuckles. “Yeah, okay. You remember me now?” He’s casually dressed in a pair of designer jeans and a short-sleeved red Polo shirt with its large white emblem. He has a matching red Yankees-fitted with white lettering pulled down over his eyes. His hood swagger is making my pussy overheat.
“Well, yeah,” I say nonchalantly, walking back over to the counter. “Now I do. But you made a mistake and described yourself as handsome.” But your ass is F-I-N-E! “That was a bit ambitious, don’t you think?” I try to keep a straight face.
He laughs. “Yo, you got jokes, I see. Yeah, aiight. It’s all good. I’ll be ambitious.”
I smirk. “And so you should. And, what’s your name again?”
“Desmond. But, my peeps call me Dez. And yours?”
I grin. “I never told you my name, remember?”
He laughs. “Oh, damn. Right-right. So you gonna give it to me, or am I gonna have to keep comin’ through until you do?”
I smile, flirtatiously. “I guess you’ll have to keep coming through.”
“Yeah, aiight. I like the sound of that.” He tells me is going to keep calling me Paradise until I tell him my name. The way he says it makes my pussy purr. Lord, give me strength not to fuck this man right here in the middle of this store. Flush these whorish thoughts from my nasty-ass mind. I smile to myself as he leans over onto the counter, his forearms resting on top, staring at me. “So what’s good, Paradise? What you like to do for fun?”
I like to fuck! I eye him back. Take his presence in. Imagine him having a long, black dick—thick and veiny with a huge mushroom-head. Subconsciously, I slowly lick my lips, imagining they’re his dick. My mouth and pussy start to water. I shake my lusty thoughts out of my head. “Why, is this an interview?”
He smiles. “Could be.”
The phone rings as three customers walk in. “Saved by the bell,” I say, grinning. I answer. It’s a woman calling to see if we carry used Louis Vuitton bags. I tell her no. Tell her to call a consignment shop. She tells me that’s what she thought this was. I hang up, shaking my head. I excuse myself, then walk over to where the three women are. I can feel his eyes on me, studying the sway of my hips, counting the number of times my ass bounces as I make my way over to them. I glance over my shoulder, catching him. He grins. I playfully roll my eyes. He watches as I help each woman select her items. Waits as I ring up their individual purchases, then smiles at me as they walk out the door.
“Now back to our conversation,” he says, glancing at his watch. “Let’s go chill somewhere. Grab a bite to eat and get better acquainted.”
“And how do I know you won’t take me somewhere and try to have your way with me?” I tease. Flirting with this man seems so natural. There’s something about him that I find...intriguing. Yeah, that’s it. He’s piqued my curiosity. I want to see him naked and stretched out.
He laughs. “Baby, I’d never do anything you don’t want me to. But, for now, I’m only interested in feeding you.”
I admit. I’m starved. But, I’m not sure if my hunger pangs are for food or for this delicious hunk of man standing in front of me. They’re for both, bitch! Feed us!
“I like the sound of that. Where would you like to go?”
He shrugs. “It’s whatever. You tell me.”
The store phone rings, again. I tell him to give me a minute as I pick up. It’s Persia. “Paradise Boutique,” I answer out of habit. I take my key and lock the register.
“You wanna meet up for lunch?”
“Well,” I say, looking over at Mr. Sexy. He winks at me. “I have plans already.”
“Plans with whom?” she asks, being her usual nosey self.
I cover the mouthpiece of the phone. “Give me one second, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“It’s cool,” he says. “I’ll wait on you for as long as you need me to.” Innuendo drips from his tone. I smile, placing the phone back up to my ear.
“Hello? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I say, walking to the back office.
“Well, I asked who you had plans with, then it sounded muffled.”
“I was with a customer,” I tell her, unlocking the safe, then placing the register key in. “Anyway, to answer your question, Miss Nosey-Ass, I’m meeting a business acquaintance out for lunch.” The lie quickly rolls off my tongue without much thought. She doesn’t need to know anything about him, I think, going into the bathroom to freshen up. Yes, I’m a grown woman capable of doing whatever I want, with whomever I want. Yet, as close as we are, I still feel the need to keep some things—like the sexy nigga waiting on me, from Persia—at least, for a while. I tell h
er my lunch date is with a young designer interested in having some of his one-of-a-kind designs in our boutique. She wants to know more. Wants to know where we’re going to eat. I tell her I am unsure. That’s the only truth to this whole conversation. I glance at the time. It’s twelve-thirty. I tell her I have to get going. Tell her we’ll talk when I get home tonight. Two minutes later, we hang up and I am walking back out to the front of the store with my handbag and keys.
