Page 23 of The Pleasure Zone

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Page 23 of The Pleasure Zone

“Not

with me starring in it,” Nairobia said lightheartedly. “But thank you, my darling.”

Mystery Man pulled her along.

Another drunk admirer said, “Tell me something, Pleasure. Is that pussy as sweet as it looks on screen? Me an’ my dick wanna know.”

Nairobia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s sweeter,” she said evenly. She was used to men getting drunk, then becoming obnoxiously lewd. But when he grabbed her ass with his big hand, and said, “I’d love to take my dick and shove it in this fat, juicy ass,” Nairobia slapped the drunken man’s hand from her ass, and gave him a scathing look. “Look. Don’t touch.”

Klootzak!

How dare that asshole try to maul her at her own damn party!

Before Nairobia could open her mouth to say another word, Mystery Man stopped and turned his dark eyes to her, his brows drawn tight, his gaze narrowed. “Yo, did that dumb muhfucka just put his hands on you?” A muscle ticked in his chiseled jaw.

His aura turned dangerously dark. Taken aback by this devastatingly handsome man’s roguish demeanor filled Nairobia with a dizzying heat. She blinked twice. Her pussy clenched for more. His aggression and raw masculinity suddenly became overwhelming.

Quelling the urge to fan herself, she glanced at the drunken man still leering at her, then dismissively said, “It’s nothing to bother with. No harm—”

“Yeah, potnah, no harm—” He wasn’t able to get the rest of his words out. Mystery Man’s fist cracked into the drunken man’s jaw, knocking him to the dance floor in one punch.

Oh God no!

Why had he done that?

And why had no one come over to assess the situation?

Where was security when you needed them?

Nairobia loathed violence, but there was something disturbingly sexy about this mystery stranger wanting to defend her honor. Blood hummed in her body.

Still…this was not acceptable.

Nairobia looked down at the poor drunken soul sprawled out on the floor, a flicker of pity in her eyes, before she turned her gaze to her Mystery Man’s. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said over the music.

“Yeah, I did,” he said, his smoldering eyes locked on hers. The club’s flashing lights softened his beautifully rugged face, but there was still an edge to his voice. “I don’t play that disrespect shit. And the next muhfucka who comes at you sideways is gonna get his jaw rocked.”

Mijn heer!

My Lord!

Why was her cunt clutching uncontrollably? Suddenly, her clit ached to be sucked into his mouth. Possessively, he pulled her in front of him, his warm palm resting slightly above the crack of her ass as he escorted her off the dance floor.

They finally made it back to the erupting penis. “Dig, Ma. I wanna see you again,” he said, before leaning in and kissing her on the cheek.

Nairobia’s clitoris throbbed. She fought the painful urge to take his big hand and shove it between her thighs, maneuvering his fingers over her sex.

She cocked her head, matching his heated gaze with one of her own. “Then I guess you’ll have to find your way to me.”

He looked at her glossed lips as if he were considering how soft they might feel against his, and—without permission, without care—framed her face with the palm of his hands, then ducked his head and slowly brushed his lips against hers. He eased back, and grinned.

“I’m good at finding what I want. Make sure you’re ready for me when I do.” He leaned in and, this time, kissed the edge of her mouth. He drew back. “Enjoy the rest of ya night, beautiful. My peoples will be watchin’ to make sure no one else comes at you crazy.”

His peoples? What peoples? And who was this Mystery Man?

Nairobia glanced around VIP, then back at him, giving him a quizzical look. “Who? Where are they?”

“All over, baby,” he said. “I got eyes everywhere.”




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