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“Yes…”
“Bad time?” His voice rasped through the phone and I did a self-check. I wasn’t angry, hurt, or disappointed by Ezekiel so he didn’t deserve my attitude.
“No, sorry. Just…” I closed my eyes. “Not a bad time, what’s up?”
“You still game to hang out with me tonight?”
I smiled, genuinely grateful for the offer. “I am.”
“Get dressed. I’ll be there by ten.”
“Ten?”
“That too late?”
“Well, no but I’m wondering where you’re taking me that allows such a late arrival.”
“You said you wanted to go to McCall’s, so we’re going to McCall’s.”
“Oh, that was fast.”
“Add man who makes shit happen to my list of attributes.”
My eyes rolled at his arrogance. His very sexy, confident persona to which I was wildly addicted.
“I’ll be ready by ten.”
“Indeed you will.”
He ended the call and my smile was painfully wide.
By nine fifty, Ezekiel was at my door, once again dressed casually. I loved him in a suit but this look. He wore black jeans and a wine-colored, three-quarter length sleeved Henley that hugged his chest deliciously, with freshly cut hair, a moisturized and trimmed beard, plus he smelled divine. His cologne was different, a deeper woodsy scent with a hint of cinnamon.
“Hey…”
I sounded stupid and surely delivered my greeting in a lusty tone but it was all I had at the moment. His eyes wandered up and down my body. After his gaze drifted over me, he spoke. “You look nice.”
“So do you,” I returned and he said nothing for a minute. Just smiled like he knew I was in over my head.
“Shall we?”
“Yep, let’s do this…” I teased, hoping to lighten the intensity. The way he drank me in saidI want to fuck you. The way I burned under his gaze saidI’ll let you, right here right now.
Far too much sexual tension.
We endured a short drive to the club and parked in the back, where he paused to send a text, then escorted me to the building. A few moments passed before the large metal door with McCall’s printed in bold silver letters opened and we were ushered inside. He greeted and spoke casually to the man who walked ahead of us through the building down a hallway, past the bathrooms, and into the main area of the club.
“Boss isn’t here but he said the house is yours tonight. If you need anything, let me know. You’re in Blackout, it’s all yours for the evening.”
“’Preciate that.”
The man nodded, shook hands with Ezekiel, and gave me a onceover with a respectable smile before he left us.
“What’s Blackout?”
“A section near the stage.”
“Stage… is there a performance?”
