Page 6 of Session 33
“What?” I asked.
“Can I kiss you?”
The question hung between us. I wanted to laugh it off, make a joke, anything to break the tension, but the way he was looking at me held me in place. His eyes were so serious, so focused, that I found myself trapped in his gaze again.
I shook my head. “No,” I breathed out real low.
“Why not?” he asked.
I took a breath, holding his gaze. “Your eyes,” I said slowly, trying to find the right words, “they’re sadder than mine. And I’m carrying a whole world of sad right now.”
He blinked. I could tell he was surprised by my answer. “Is that why?” he murmured, low.
“Yes,” I replied. “If we liked it and turned it into more, all we could do is add to each other’s sadness. I don’t want that for you. Not for you, not for me.”
He didn’t say anything right away, just stared at me, his jaw tightening like he was processing what I’d said and didn’t like it. I could see something flicker in his eyes—understanding, maybe, or resignation.
And then, just like that, the moment passed. He leaned back in his chair, taking another pull from the blunt, the tension between us easing. I let out a shaky breath, unsure if I’d just dodged a bullet or missed an opportunity.
He was too fine to like me anyways. The thought tickled me for some reason, and despite the heavy mood, a laugh escaped me.
“What are you two laughing at?” Naomi asked. I hadn’t heard her come back outside.
I laughed harder. I don’t know if it was the liquor, the absurdity of Cassius asking to kiss me, or the fact that, for the first time in forever, I didn’t feel alone that had me acting like a fool, but I laughed all the way to the room, with Naomi and Cassius guiding me.
Naomi was giving Cassius questioning looks, but all he did was shrug.
The room they left me in was big and nicely furnished, with a four-poster bed and a matching armoire and dresser. I was tired, but I got off the bed and walked into the adjoining bathroom for a shower. It had been a hot day, and I hated the feel of dried sweat on my body. I peeled off my dress and noticed towels on the sink. When I picked them up, underneath them was a long USF T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. Jumping in the shower, I quickly washed and dried off.
In bed, the pillow was cool against my cheek, and before I could think too much—about Cassius, about the fact that I was lying in a stranger’s guest room—I was out. Sleep took me the momentmy head hit the pillow, pulling me into a deep, dreamless oblivion.
Chapter six
I couldn’t shake off Angel's words. It was like they’d lodged in my ear and taken up permanent residence in my brain, but she was wrong. I wasn’t sad. There was too much going on in my life for that.
Grabbing my cell phone from the driver’s seat, I scrolled through my contacts until I found Keisha’s number, then dialed it. Sometimes, I tended to overthink things, but sadness wasn’t an option—I refused to entertain it.
The line rang once, then again. Keisha finally picked up, her voice bright. "Hey, Cass! What's up?"
“I’m down the street. Come outside.” I hung up without waiting for her response.
Pulling up in front of the duplex where Keisha lived, she emerged shortly after I parked, clad in a short pink pajama set. The tiny shorts barely covered her thick thighs and ass, her nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her top. Her breasts bounced as she made her way to my truck, her bedroom slippers slapping against the pavement.
She leaned down, smiling like she’d just hit the jackpot.
“Get in.”
She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, her hand brushing my arm. “Hey, baby, why didn’t you say anything to meat the party?” she asked, her voice already starting to grate on my nerves.
“I was busy. Couldn’t you see?” My tone was rougher than I meant it to be.
She nodded, forcing a smile. “Okay, no big deal. Are you coming in?” She looked hopeful.
I let out a short laugh, unzipping my pants. “No, I’m not coming in,” I said, pulling out nine hard inches. “Think you can handle this for me?”
Her eyes widened for a moment before she giggled, her excitement barely contained. She got to work, leaning, she practically swallowed my whole dick.
She didn’t need coaching—she knew what she was doing. My head tipped back against the seat as she took me deeper. I could feel the head of myself at the back of her throat as she sucked, slurped, and licked.