Page 33 of Tainted

“Purple Haze.” I memorized the timbre of his cadence because he was always here. The hint of huskiness added an alluring edge to his mysterious persona.

“That’s not my name,” I complained.

“I thought you’d like that more thanBarney.”

My eyes narrowed, and I pressed my lips together, biting back the first sarcastic retort that came to mind.

“What do you want me to call you tonight?”

“I’d like you to call off yourgirlfriend. If you can’t do that, we have nothing to discuss.” I quipped, trying to walk around Kenyon, but his hand grabbed my arm.

“Ion’ want no smoke tonight,” he explained, dropping my arm.

“You have an odd way of showing it.”

Kenyon threw his hands up, and that smirk came back. The one that damn near made me grab his hand and wrap it back around my arm.

“I didn’t mean anything by it.” I thought he was about to walk away, but he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “You and that purple outfit got a nigga jealous as fuck.”

“Hmm, sounds like you’re trying to have your cake and eat it too, from where I’m standing.”

Kenyon’s face twisted in confusion, “I don’t even like cake,” but I wasn’t sure if I believed him. First, Sydney dropped a bag for my time in VIP, and now he was jealous watching me do my job, “But I might be willing to taste yours.”

“Goodnight,Keyes.”

“Stay and tell me why you’re giving me an attitude. Wassup with that Babygirl?” He asked, brushing his fingers against my chin.

I looked up at him, trying to read his expression. There was something vulnerable there, something I wasn't used to seeing from him. It made my resolve waver.

“I’m tired of telling you and your girlfriend no.”

“My girlfriend,” he repeated, chuckling as he signaled one of the bottle girls over. “What you drinking?”

“Nothing.”

“You always turn down drinks from customers or just me?”

“You haven’t put any money in my hand, so you’re not a customer.”

Kenyon smirked, and his confident grin quickened my pulse for reasons I didn’t want to admit. His fingers traced the edge of my outfit, and before I could react, he slipped a stack of bills into the band of my top, his touch lingering just long enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“Now I am,” he stated, his voice low and smooth, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me. “Tell Tambra to make Babygirl her usual. I’ll take 1942.” She accepted the bill he offered and walked away giggling because he managed to beat me at my own game. “I don’t have a girlfriend unless you’re trying to change that.”

I couldn't get my words out to question what he was doing to me, but Kenyon knew. It was all part of his plan because a man like him was rarely without one.

“Nice ink. You like flowers?”

“T-thanks,” I replied, watching his finger trace my tattoo. "W-what are you doing?”

“Enjoying the view,” he murmured while his fingers continued their lazy path along my body, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Kenyon

The ink was nice, but I was more interested in her reaction to my touch than anything.

“What's the story behind this one?”

“Maybe I'll tell you someday,” she replied teasingly.

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