Page 38 of Certified Pressure
I climbed back in.
He didn’t try to touch or kiss me again. He took a shot of liquor, hit the blunt once more, then got in beside me, and when he wrapped his arms around me, I didn’t tense up.
I melted into him…
The way he held me didn’t just feel safe. It felt powerful... like his arms could block out the whole world if it ever tried to touch me. His chest was warm against my back, strong and solid, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I had to fight for anything. I didn’t feel alone.
Being wrapped in him made everything else disappear, and I wasn’t afraid of shit. His body on mine gave me this feeling I couldn’t name. Maybe this is what it felt like when a man loves you, and don’t wanna let go.
I laid there with Pressure’s arms around me, my face tucked against his chest, and I didn’t say a word.
For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.
When I reopened my eyes, I looked around the room and noticed it was still dark.
The blackout curtains kept everything dim, and for a second, I forgot where I was. The bed felt different, softer, warmer… bigger. Then I heard the stream of water coming from the bathroom, making my heart jump.
Oh my God…
Last night started coming back to me in slow flashes. Pressure… The way he touched me…. The way he kissed me…The way he looked at me like I wasn’t just some girl in his house, but instead, like I was somebody he wanted to keep.
We didn’t go all the way, but it felt like we did. My body was still yearning, and heated from the way he’d held me so close. In that moment, I forgot the rest of the world existed.
While in my thoughts, I heard the shower shut off.
I sat up fast and tried to smooth down my hair with my fingers. I didn’t even know what time it was, but I knew I needed to go before I started imagining shit I had no business thinking.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed just as the bathroom door opened.
Pressure walked out, steam trailing behind him like smoke. He had a thick black towel wrapped low on his waist, and water still clung to his chest and shoulders, making his tattoos gleam against his skin. His abs looked carved. His scent hit me instantly. It was clean, expensive, and masculine in a way that made my thighs press together before I could stop myself.
He looked right at me, and I looked down.
He didn’t say nothing at first, just grabbed a chain off the dresser and slid it around his neck while water still glistened on his skin. I tried to act like I wasn’t watching him but I was.
“I was just about to go,” I mumbled, standing up too quick. “I gotta go get myself together.”
Pressure nodded slow, like he didn’t care one way or the other, but his eyes followed every move I made.
“A’ight then,” he said. “You know where the door at.”
That was all he said. There were no sweet words or no begging me to stay. He just had that same calm voice that made you wonder if he was holding back or just didn’t give a damn.
I slipped past him, trying not to stare at his body again, and left the room without another word.
The second I got back to my room, I was dragging my luggage across the floor when I heard Kashmere.
“Bitch—where the hell you been?”
She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her bonnet still on. Her eyes were big and nosy as hell.
I tried not to smile, but it came anyway.
“I spent the night in his room,” I said, trying to keep my voice low.
Kashmere eyes grew wider like she couldn’t believe what I was saying. “You serious? Don’t play with me, bitch.”
I nodded and plopped on the other bed.
