Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“And his wife, too. You’d know that better than most considering she was your business partner and best friend. Must be nice when your connections land you the plum jobs.”
“You’d probably know more about that than I would.”
His scoffing laughter slithers under my skin. “Seriously? My family may be rich, but there are no schools, parks, bridges or streets named after us.” His expression goes granite. “And that kind of thing means nothing to Mateo Ruiz. He’s more interested in winning over people in this state who would resist his bid. People like my family and the guys I grew up with. I know how to reach them.”
“I know how to reach them, too. Being like your enemy is not a battle strategy. Thinking like them is. I could outthink you with a concussion.” I step close enough to whisper in his ear. “And you know it.”
He chuckles, his eyes roaming over my face and body with undisguised admiration. He’d fuck me if he could, but that won’t ever happen. I turned him down when he was drunk enough to actually ask, which only makes him more determined to beat me.
“Maybe,” he whispers back. “Maybe I know it, but Mateo doesn’t, and he’s this close to hiring me to run his campaign. You could always come work for me, Kimba. I’d take real good care of you.” Innuendo sours his voice.
“Tony, you wouldn’t know how to ‘take care of me’ with step-by-step instructions, but I’ll consider…no guarantees now…hiring you to work for me on Mateo’s campaign. I’m sure I could find something for you to do. If I remember correctly, you make a great cup of coffee.”
“We’ll see about that,” he says as I turn and head for the exit. I’m not sure what it will take to persuade Congressman Ruiz, but this wasn’t it. I’ll know my move when it’s time to make it, and it will have Congressman Ruiz coming to me.
I pull my phone out to call for an Uber and see a text message from Mona.
Mona: Wanna get faded? I have wine and edibles. Gummies, to be exact.
These men who think I should bow and scrape to them have me feeling tight and close to my feelings. I could use some loosening.
I hit send on my message back to Mona.
Me: Girl, on my way.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kimba
At least I’m not as drunk as Mona.
This occurs to me, though, whilst my legs are straight up in the air, the hem of my dress is scrunched at my waist, and my head hangs off the arm of the couch. I may not be drunk exactly, but maybe a little looser than I planned? And I only had half a gummy.
“I’m deadass serious when I ask this question,” Mona says, her words only slurring the slightest bit.
“What’s the question?”
“Are you ready for the question?”
“I just said…dammit, I’m ready. What’s your question, Mo?”
“Where are all the brothers who eat booty like groceries?”
It’s completely silent for several seconds and then we both start giggling uncontrollably. My head, hanging upside down, bobs against the back of the couch. Mona, stretched out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling fan, cackles and grips her midsection.
“Is this keeping you up at night?” I ask. “Not is the overall temperature of our planet rising at an unsustainable rate? Not how will we address the problem of mass incarceration? Or equal pay for women? But your existential question centers around men who eat ass?”
“I need a man who’s not afraid to put in that work. I mean, girls can do it for ourselves, but we can’t do that. And I get sick of getting myself off. I wanna share the burden.”
I snort. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“My BOB gets the job done, yeah, but it’s not…intimate. Ya know what I mean?” The amusement fades from Mona’s expression. “There’s nothing like being touched.”
Like the urgent squeeze of Ezra’s hands on me, the caress of his breath. The gentle touch of something as simple as being helped down to the ground. The desperate need in how tightly he clutched me. It had been affirming.
Mona’s right. There’s nothing like the touch of someone who wants you as much as you want them.
“I miss being fucked,” Mona says. She sits up and reaches for her wine, shunning the glass and taking the bottle straight to her lips. “Feeling a man inside me, hitting that spot over and over, that makes me lose my mind. Clawing and scratching because the shit is so good. I miss being kissed and held.”
She lies back down. “Hell, I miss waking up with somebody beside me. That morning wood poking you from behind.” Her laugh is bittersweet. “My ex liked to fuck first thing. Said there was nothing better to start off his day than…” She shakes her head, leaving the thought incomplete.