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Hesitantly, I turned the clear liquid up. It burned my chest, making me gag, almost.
“Ugh.”
Milo tossed his back without an issue before slamming his cup on the table and pouring himself another one.
“Understand that I’ll knock a hundred niggas out if they’re standing in my path to you. So, if you want to save me my good hand, stick to what you know best, Nay.Me.”
With pouty lips, my gaze lingered. Even in the dark, Milo was truly a sight to see. Before standing to his feet, he pecked my lips and pulled me up with him.
“Don’t sit down, now. Get ya dancing ass up.”
He posted me right in front of him, wrapping his arms around me as he sang in my ear.
“We ain’t spoke in so long, probably put me in the past. I can still get you wet and I can still make you laugh. You should call into work if that ain’t too much to ask. I could pour you up a drink and we could burn something.”
Relaxing against the firmness of his chest, I rocked from side to side along with him, feeling as if Drake was talking directly to us. The song was fitting.
“Come through. Come through. Come through. Come through. Girl you know we got thangs to do.”
He was laying it on thick, straining my vagina of its juice.
“Know ya got that thang that I like.”
Leaning me forward, he grinded behind me, pushing his hardness against my backside. When he raised me back up, he buried his face in my hair, wrapped his arm around my neck before moving my hair out of the way with his chin and biting down on it.
“Why has it been so long? Why has it been so long?” he asked, following along with the altered version of the song the DJ spun. “Why has it been so long?”
I closed my eyes, allowing him to roam my body with his fingers, forgetting that we were surrounded by a club full of people. The liquor left me careless, free to soak up every ounce of attention Milo was giving me. Like a puzzle, we just fit together.
The song changed and so did the atmosphere. As if something foreign had awakened within Milo, he began chanting the words to the song that I wasn’t familiar with. After listening closely, I wanted to crawl under the bench in the booth and hide. Nevertheless, I stood by his side as the lyrics belted from his body.
“If that’s yo hoe, that’s my hoe too. If that’s your hoe, that’s my hoe, too.”
Rather swiftly, our section filled with dancers who had no problem exposing every inch of their bodies to us. I thoroughly enjoyed the view, watching as the men around me tossed ones in their direction, in no particular order or fashion. Money rained down, seemingly becoming a signal for more women to join us. Milo handed me money from the stack he was pulling from. It was massive, tall like the hookahs on the tables of those around us.
I placed one dollar at a time on the woman who was bend over in front of me, one leg on the couch and the other on the floor while making her ass do things I didn’t know were possible.
“Like this, baby,” he instructed me, using one hand to push money out of the other.
I followed instructions, finding it much easier to distribute the money.
“I’m doing it, Milo.”
“That’s right. Throw that shit, Nay,” he hyped me.
Shot after shot. Dollar after dollar. We cleared the table of the drinks and the money. By the time Mercer was rounding us all up, my feet felt like nubs and my head was spinning.
“I don’t think I can walk,” I admitted.
“What’s the matter?” Milo and Makai asked in unison.
“My feet hurt,” I whined.
“Here.” Milo used the back of his feet to remove each of his shoes. “Sit down.”
I took a seat on the cushion and watched as he slid my feet into his long shoes. They didn’t fit at all, but they felt much more comfortable than mine, which he’d taken off beforehand. He grabbed my heels and purse from my hand before pulling me up.
“We ready,” he announced as we proceeded.
