Sunday, September 09, 2007

Enticing Mr. Wrong - Ch. 7.2

“Is that you?” Bonz asked Jarrett without taking his eyes off of Aisha’s sensual frame. The fluent way she moved was enough to have him fantasizing about her for months to come. One of those fantasies would involve him licking honey off that flawless back of hers. Correction, off her whole body.

“I wish she was mine,” Jarrett reluctantly replied, hesitant to admit that Aisha was fair game. However, one look at the hungry expression on Bonz’s face and it was obvious that he would have gone after her no matter whose woman she was.

“Some men wish. Some men make things happen,” Bonz said arrogantly, finally turning to face the bartender. “Open up a bar tab for her. Every time she orders anything, refuse her money and tell her all of her drinks are on me.”

“But what if she refuses?” Jarrett secretly hoped she would every time.

“She won’t,” Bonz replied confidently. He reached into his wallet and retrieved a wad of cash. “This is for your trouble, College Boy Floyd.” He threw a stack of twenties on the counter, then turned around and walked off without another word.

I wonder what ‘does’ happen to Aisha after three drinks, Bonz found himself thinking as he made his way back over to his friends.

At the bar, Jarrett frowned so hard that his face hurt. He’d never felt such hatred for another human being in his life. Who did Bonz think he was? Moreover, who did Bonz think Jarrett was? Aisha’s pimp?

I don’t need money for school this bad, Jarrett mused, turning to put the wad of cash in the register instead of in his tip pocket. Starting tomorrow, I’m looking for another job, he decided.

* * *

Sipping his drink slowly, Bonz kept a watchful eye on Aisha while trying to maintain decent conversations with the people around him. Good thing he was a multi-tasker.

Bonz also deemed it a good thing that the dance floor was elevated. He could see Aisha clearly from his seat. Allowing his imagination to run wild for a moment, Bonz imagined the dance floor was a stage where Aisha was performing a private dance just for him. The fact that she kept facing this way only added to his fantasy. His desire for her.

Was Aisha deliberately trying to get his attention? If so, she definitely had it. Now that she did, what did she want him or them to do about it? Bonz was highly tempted to go on the dance floor and ask her. Yet he refrained out of respect for his current date. Instead he just continued to watch Aisha from afar.

That’s right, baby, dip low, Bonz mused, following the drop of Aisha’s hips as she danced alone to an upbeat tune. Now let me see you shake it.

As if she could read his mind, Aisha began to bounce her shapely bottom in a provocative move that had Bonz literally aching in his seat. His fingers and toes radiated with the heat of his need. Suppressing a moan, he took a long swig of his drink.

“Bonz, you want to dance?” Co-co asked, noticing how often his attention went to the dance floor.

“What?” Bonz blinked rapidly to refocus. “Dance? Nah, I’ll pass.” He couldn’t have gotten up from his seat right now if he wanted to. He was too aroused. His pants didn’t fit right anymore. Plus, if he got anywhere close to that dance floor right now, he’d be all over Aisha, not Co-co.

Co-co shrugged. “Fine with me. I wanted to keep getting my drink on anyway.”

“Right.” Bonz’s lips went into a straight line. If Co-co wasn’t so fine, he would dismiss her right now for being such a lush.

Putting his own drink aside, Bonz vowed to remain clear-headed just in case he got the opportunity to exchange Co-co for an even finer woman tonight. By now it was obvious who that finer woman was – Aisha.

© 2005 by Suprina Frazier

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