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He gave me a crooked grin. “I got you, ma. It’s the least I can do.” I grin back at him. “What’s your pleasure?”
“Surprise me,” I told him, stepping aside so he can place the order. He leaned in and said something to the bartender while I glanced back at Mona, who was looking at me with raised brows, holding her drink in her hand. I turned from the bar. “That’s the nigga I was dancing with,” I stated.
She smirked. “That’s the fine-ass nigga you were talkin’ ’bout?” I nod. “Now ain’t that somethin’.”
Just as I was about to say something else to her, he turned toward me and handed me my drink. It was in a hurricane glass garnished with a pineapple slice and two cherries. “Here you go, beautiful.” He flashed me another smile.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the drink. I sipped it, licking my lips. “What is it?”
He leaned in; lips flushed to my ear, and said, “Tap That Ass.” I almost choked. “Yo, you aiight, ma?” I nodded, taking another slow sip. “That’s wassup.” I asked him what was in it, and he told me it was a mixture of Hennessy, Red and Yellow Alize, a splash of cranberry juice topped with soda water.
“It’s good,” I finally stated. “Thanks.”
“So, I see you’ve met my cousin,” Mona said to me, grinning.
“Excuse me?” I asked, not sure I had heard her correctly. “Which cousin?”
“The one you weren’t beat to meet,” she snapped, laughing.
He laughed with her. “Oh, word? It was like that?”
“Yep,” Mona said, still laughing. “I had to practically twist her damn arm to come out. And look. She ended up meeting you, anyway.”
“Yeah, we’ve met already,” he said, grinning at me. “But not officially.”
“Jasper, this is my girl, Pasha. Pasha, meet my sexy-ass cousin, Jasper.”
He extended his warm hand and took mine in his, then pulled me into him and kissed me on the cheek. I almost fainted.
He stepped back. “So…you still not interested?” he asked, eyeing me up and down, slowly licking his bottom lip, then pulling it in.
I eyed him back real sexy-like. “Maybe, maybe not,” I stated, slyly.
He stepped back into my space, stared deep into my eyes. “Check this out, baby. Just like that drink you sippin’ on, I’ma be tappin’ that ass, all in due time. So I hope you ready for a real nigga like me. Enjoy the rest of ya drink. I’ll be back later to get ya digits.”
He leaned over, said something to Mona—who started laughing, then walked off, leaving me standing at the bar with my drink in my hand—dumbfounded. And that’s how it all began.
Crazy thing, that night my feet ached, my shins ached, and my toes were on fire, but none of that shit mattered. I had snagged the finest, sexiest nigga in the room.
EIGHT
“What’s good, baby?” Jasper says into the phone. He is extremely animated, and excited, for…I glance over at the digital clock…7:43 A.M. In the goddamn morning! I scream in my head. I stretch and yawn. “Get that sexy ass up! Daddy’s on his way home to drill another hole in that ass.”
“Say what?” I ask, wiping sleep out of the insides of my eyes.
“Yo, you heard me. I said Daddy’s on his way home to beat that pussy up, so get ready.”
I’ve heard him correctly, but it takes me a minute to finally feel the weight of his words. My eyes widen as I snap up in bed. “OhmyGod, when?”
“I’m outta this muhfucka tomorrow, baby.”
“Where are they sending you?” I ask, feeling my nerves unraveling. This is the moment I’ve been longing for. Four long years, I’ve waited. And now, it’s finally coming to an end. I want my man home; need him here, but…for some reason, I am not as excited as I had thought I’d be. Not as prepared as I should be. He tells me he’s being sent to Talbot Hall—an assessment center in Kearney, New Jersey. That he will be there for about sixty days or so before he makes it to a halfway house.
“Then you know what it is. Once I’m done wit’ all that assessment center bullshit, it’s on and poppin’. Ya heard?”
“I can’t wait,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed. I pull the carpet beneath my feet with my toes. OhmymotherfuckingGaaaaawd, Jasper’s coming home.
“Listen, baby, I’ma need you to hit the mall and pick up a few things, then drop them off to me tomorrow, like ’round six or seven, aiight?” Before I can respond, he starts firing off a list of things he wants and needs. Five shirts, five pants, a sweat suit, six pairs of boxers, six white tees, a pair of Timbs, two pair of Nikes…
