Page 39 of Body Language
“I like you. Not because you’re pretty. That’s stupid. I like you because you didn’t fold.”
She sipped her tea once again. “Now keep it that way. Because the minute you start shrinking to make a man comfortable, you’ll lose the very thing that made him want you.”
Then, with a sweet little smile for Kendrix as he sat back down, she added, “You picked a beautiful handful, son.”
I smirked, crossing my legs slowly. “Ain’t that the truth.”
We stepped out of the sunroom, and before I knew it, Kendrix had my hand in his, leading me down a stone path through the estate like we were in some damn movie. The grounds stretched forever.
“You really grew up like this?” I asked, giving him a side-eye. “This ain’t no regular house.”
He smirked, watching me more than the scenery. “Are you impressed?”
I shrugged, pretending not to be. “It’s cute.”
“Cute, huh?”
“Mhm.” I smirked. “But don’t think money makes you special. A lotta of niggas rich, but still lame though.”
He stopped, turned to face me, that grin dangerous as hell. “Good thing I’m not one of those niggas.”
I bit my lip, heat sliding up my neck, even though I tried to keep my face straight. The scent of chlorine hit me instantly. His niece was in the pool, floating around on a unicorn floatie, phone in one hand like she wasn’t worried about electrocution.
She spotted us and grinned. “Don’t let him bore you!”
I laughed, waving back. “Girl, he’s trying!”
Kendrix shot her a look. “Keep playing. You gone want something.”
She rolled her eyes like a true teenager. I was still laughing when Kendrix’s hand slid from mine to the small of my back, guiding me toward the pool house. The heat from his palm sent a shiver down my spine.
The door clicked shut behind us, the sound of splashing fading as he locked it. I glanced around. Leather lounge chairs. Towels folded neatly on the counter. Big windows letting the sun pour in.
“Mm,” I teased, leaning against the counter. “You really bringing me to the pool house like we in some secret high school hookup?”
He stepped closer, his eyes low and hungry, beard shadowing that slow grin. “Nah. High school niggas don’t know what to do with you.”
I opened my mouth to fire back, but he was already crowding me, his hand gripping my thigh and pulling me up onto the counter like I weighed nothing.
“Hold on—” I laughed breathlessly, my palms pressing against his chest. “You been letting me talk all this big shit, and now you—”
“Taking over,” he cut me off, lips brushing my ear. “You had control long enough. Time for me to drive.”
My stomach flipped. “Oh, so now you’re Mr. Take Control?”
His thumb pressed slow circles into my inner thigh, making it impossible to keep my voice steady.
“You better be quiet,” he said, teeth grazing my neck. “Unless you want my niece out there asking why you sound like you seen the Lord.”
I smirked, ready to clown him back until his lips touched mine. And Lord… I don’t kiss niggas. Its too intimate and personal. But that kiss was so good. He tasted like bourbon and danger, and the way he took his time with my bottom lip had me helping him tug at my own clothes.
“You got me trippin’,” I murmured, breathless. “I don’t kiss niggas.”
He pulled back just long enough to smirk. “That’s because I ain’t no nigga. I’m Kendrix.”
Then he spread my thighs wide, sliding me down the counter, and lowered his head.
The first lick had me gasping, my hand flying to cover my mouth. “Kendrix—”
