King Cobra

Now I'm Up To My Neck With Offers

"Thanks for pickin' me up, I know you had to go outta your way."

"It's really no biggie shawty," Shakewell smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. I watched as the houses passed by, each block different, one super suburbs, and the next more like the projects. My mind wandered, wondering which part Shake lived in, what his house looked like, if it was any nicer than his car (which wouldn't be too hard, his car was practically held together with a roll of duct tape and super glue).

It wasn't much nicer, the porch looked like it had seen better days, the handrail completely disconnected, and the second stair from the bottom nearly rotted off. I still followed him up, watching him jiggle the door handle until it clicked and opened.

"Sa Passe," a large black dude that laid on the couch with a beer nodded towards us, and Shake returned a greeting.

"What does that mean?" I whispered to him as we walked down the short hall to his room.

"Ion know," Shake shrugged and chuckled, "he's probably off four xans already."

His room looked pretty clean compared to the rest of the house, the white walls covered in posters of different bands and movies. Shake grabbed a backpack from his desk then sat on his bed, his back against the wall, and waited for me to sit next to him.

"So what're you tryna get?"

"I'll probably cop a script of Roxy, if I got enough money."

I watched as he pulled the orange bottle from his bag, the ten or so pills inside rattling.

"If you don't got enough I think we can work something out," he smirked, and I felt my cheeks get red.

Nervousness laid heavy on my chest, I wasn't even sure why. He could have meant anything, but if he meant what I thought he did, it was something I hadn't done in years.

"How much?"

"For you I'll drop to $150."

I had thirty-five dollars in my pocket and that was it, I swallowed back my nerves and tried to go on.

"What did you mean by 'work something out?' because I don't have enough."

"I think you know," he smiled, my heart racing. "How much are you short?"

"Like all of it, $120 short."

Was I really going to do it? It wouldn't be the worse, Shake was attractive, and nice, definitely not the grossest man ever. I wanted my drugs, badly, and I was willing to fuck my coworker for them.

"But, if you're still willing to work something out," I put my leg across him to straddle his lap, "then we can call it a deal?" I smiled sweetly at him, his hands going up to hold my hips.

"Deal," he chuckled and I closed the distance between us, my small body pressed to his as our lips met for the first time.

His kiss was soft, not too forceful but still hungry, evident in the way his tongue traced my lip, how our tongues wrestled, the way his hand trailed up my back, then gripped the back of my neck, keeping me close to him. His other arm wrapped around me, his hand now just under my rib cage.

I let out small noises as we kissed, unable to help myself from grinding against him. I went from being nervous, to becoming putty in his grasp. My hands were tangled in his braids, the lightest tug causing him to moan softly against my lips.