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- Parts 37
"Yuh si how dis a bend due to pressure. Dih bredda hood deh gallang like rubber. Like the charger cord to how it flexible. Like old bed spring."
Lucky put his hand on the table, elbows down and hands on his jaw, watching me. Molly had her eyes on the fork then back at my face.
"Which eva man mih fuck a missionary mih duh first cause mih wah feel it up inna mih. The length, the width, him strength and how him can whine up inna mih or dig out mih belly." I listed.
"Ehh!" Molly said.
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Milani ran from Saint once, only to fall back in his life unexpected.
She's more fun and outgoing, always making everyone laugh even when it's not intended. Saint is the opposite, he's quiet and always serious, but she's the only one who can tear down his exterior and melt his heart.
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C O M P L E T E D "Date me," he spins the whiskey around in the glass and fixes me with a smirk. I roll my eyes the moment the words roll off his tongue. "Are you really that desperate?" I scoff in response, fighting back the ever prominent blush. His smirk widens as my face flushes red and he leans over the countertop towards me. I step back. "Name your price," he replies, his words cool and smooth like ice cream. Only I would reference food at a moment like this. Anger rolls around in the pit of my stomach; I may not have money but I have morals. "You can't buy people, Grant," The words fall out of my mouth and he recoils as if slapped. I'm glad. Stupid rich boy and his player ways. "Bet I can," I resist the urge to slap the smug look of his face and scoff again. "Right," I drag out the word, rolling my eyes. I step away from the counter and turn my back on him, desperate to leave. But he speaks again. "Date me. Two months. If you fall for me for my money, I win. If I fall for you for who you really are, you win." I consider this for a moment. I have nothing to loose and really not much to gain. But I'm so desperate to put the asshole in his place that I can't resist. I'm a sucker for a bet. "Deal."
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