Chapter 10 #3
“The first time I met you, you were bleeding out and on death’s door.
So I know you’re into some questionable shit,” I said, watching his face.
He stayed neutral, so I kept going. “Obviously, there’s something between us—annoying as that is—but you come with a lot, Cash.
And I’m not sure I’m willing to gamble my peace or my nursing license for it. ”
I exhaled, brushing my fingers through my ponytail.
“My ex lived this kind of life, and he’s doing twenty years off a RICO. I stopped dealing with niggas like that in my twenties.”
I left out the part about how Marcus hounded me for years after he got locked up. I had to intercept the mail, not wanting my parents to ask why I was getting letters from a federal prison. Or how he’d have people call me on three-way just to talk, even when I’d told him to stop.
“I’m not them, Jasmine,” Cash said, shaking his head. Carlton showed up with our drinks and took our dinner orders. Once he left, Cash pulled me closer, his voice dropping low.
“I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I’m a saint—we both know I’m not. But don’t lump me in with those other niggas. I worked my ass off for everything I have. I’m not some low-level hustler asking to stash shit in your apartment.”
I traced a finger down the stem of my wine glass and let his words sink in.
“So that’s it? I’m just supposed to accept that you’re a big-time dealer and move like life is normal?”
Cash cupped my chin, his thumb brushed my jaw as his deep brown eyes bore into mine.
“You don’t have to accept anything but me. But don’t assume you know what I do. If you want to know, ask me. I’ll tell you. What I won’t do is drag you into anything. If we ever get to that point, it’ll be on your terms. Until then, let’s just enjoy the night.”
Something in his tone shifted the energy between us, and conversation flowed easier than expected.
We talked about what brought me to Atlanta, his childhood, his scholarship to Duke, and even a little bit about his father’s death.
He didn’t go into too much detail about his work, but it was clear he’d been in some shit.
And there was no regret in his voice, just an acceptance that everything he’d done was all part of the game.
By the time our entrees arrived, I was floating off my third glass of rosé. The restaurant definitely lived up to the hype.
“So…” Cash said, cutting into his porterhouse. “You still hate me?”
I paused, my fork hovering over my plate. I thought back to how he’d gotten me so worked up last week.
I cleared my throat. “I hate you less.”
“Here you go,” he chuckled, shaking his head.
“You’re a bit of a menace.”
“You fuck with it, though. Don’t lie.”
I set my fork down. “I’m stuffed. This was so good.”
“You want them to wrap this up for you?”
I nodded, and he signaled for Carlton.
“I’m tryna slide past my people’s spot real quick,” Cash said, as our plates were cleared.
“I thought you didn’t want anyone to see me in this dress?”
“Tuh. Niggas know how I get down in there.”
I rolled my eyes because I knew he meant it.
Carlton returned with our leftovers. “I hope you enjoyed your evening,” he said, turning to me with a warm smile. “Miss, I hope we’ll see you again soon.”
“What about the bill?” I asked.
“Jasmine, don’t insult me,” Cash replied, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
I laughed under my breath. Was this what dating a real baller feels like? Because I could get used to it.
His car was already waiting when we exited the restaurant. We drove a short distance before stopping in front of a small cocktail bar called The Emerald Lounge. Early 2000s hip-hop played as we walked in.
“What up, Mike?” Cash greeted the security guard at the door.
“Cash Money, my nigga!” Mike dapped him up, then gave me a once-over and nodded.“This you?”
Cash pulled me into his side. “All me.”
“I see you, bruh.” Mike grinned as he pulled back the velvet curtain.
The lounge was small and intimate, lit in a soft green glow. Chocolate velvet booths lined the walls. The music was at the perfect level—it was loud enough to vibe to, but low enough for conversation.
Cash led me to a private corner with plush couches.
“What you drinking, baby?” he asked.
“Surprise me.”
I watched him walk away, wondering if he knew how easily he commanded a room.
Several people came over to shake his hand or dap him up as he waited for our drinks.
Another couple walked in and sat at the bar.
The man spotted Cash and went over to greet him, but the way Cash’s jaw tightened told me he wasn’t too thrilled to see him.
The woman with him was stunning. She was tall, with mocha skin, in a black mini dress.
Her pin-straight hair fell down her back, and she tossed it over her shoulder like she didn’t realize she was the baddest bitch in here.
On anyone else, the deep plunge in her dress would’ve been tacky, but on her it looked like haute couture.
She was way too beautiful for the plain-looking dude she was with.
Her eyes met Cash’s, and a flash of something passed between them, but she didn’t speak.
What was that?
Cash came back with our drinks and placed mine in front of me.
“You know them?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
“Who?”
“That couple.” I tipped my head toward the bar. “You know them?”
“The dude works for me. Don’t know his girl.”
“She looked like she knew you,” I muttered. She’d been stealing glances at us since Cash sat beside me.
“Come here,” he said, pulling me into his lap. “Why you look like you in your head?” He shifted me so my legs were draped over his. I stole one last glimpse at the bar—the couple was gone.
I sipped my drink.“Mm. This is good.”
“Are you good, though?” His voice dipped lower as his lips brushed my shoulder. His fingers began tracing a slow path up my calf, sending heat surging through me. He moved deliberately slow, teasing, until he reached the hem of my dress.
I adjusted myself in his lap, suddenly aware of how shallow my breathing had become.
“I asked you a question, Jasmine.” The rasp in his voice sent a jolt through me as his fingers toyed with the edge of my dress.
I grabbed his wrist. “Cash—” I hissed.
He sank his teeth into my shoulder, just enough to make me arch back against him.
“You not gonna answer me?”
“I’m good, baby,” I panted. “But what if someone sees us?”
“I’ll shoot a nigga for looking over here,” he growled.
This was crazy, I should’ve stopped him. But my legs seemed to widen on their own volition as his hand continued its journey under the hem of my dress, his fingers brushing the lace of my thong.
“She wet for me?”
I swear his accent made me even wetter.
Cash took my drink and set it aside. Then, with one slow, deliberate pull, he slid my thong down. I lifted my hips to help him.
“I’m keeping these,” he said, shoving them into his pocket.
His hand found its way back up my thighs, teasing over my skin. My nails dug into his arm as he brushed against my clit. My body tightened as he circled it before dipping his between my slick folds.
“Shit. All this for me, Jas?” he muttered, kissing the base of my neck.
I didn’t answer. The thrill of possibly being caught made everything more intense. Better. My mouth parted with a silent moan, and I bit down on my lip hard.
“Should I let you come?” he asked, voice gritty.
I rocked against him as he pumped his fingers in me.
“Mm…” I nodded, the growing pressure made it hard to think straight.
“Use your words, baby girl.”
“Cash, please—” I managed to choke out as he pinched my clit.
Stars exploded behind my eyes. My whole body trembled in his lap as I braced myself against him, riding the wave crashing through me.
“You’re doing so good, my baby,” he praised, low in my ear. “Nobody knows how nasty you’re being for me right now.”
“I’m c—” The words died on my lips. I buried my face in his chest, stifling my cry as another orgasm rolled through me.
Cash slowly pulled his fingers from me, bringing his fingers to his mouth. “Mmm. You taste good as fuck,” he groaned, before pressing a kiss to my forehead.
I smoothed my dress down with shaky hands, trying to gather myself. I went to stand, but my legs felt like jelly.
Cash just watched me, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“You good?” he asked, rising to his feet.
I nodded, even though my heart was still racing and the ghost of his touch still lingered between my thighs.
“Let me get your fine ass home,” he said, tossing some money on the table and taking my hand.
Mike nodded as we passed. “Be easy, Money.”
Cash continued to be the perfect gentleman, opening the door like I wasn’t just coming apart in his lap a few minutes ago.
I sank into the passenger seat, too caught up in the night to say anything. I replayed every second of dinner, our conversation, his touch, the way he made me feel. It wasn’t until we were well on our way that I realized how quiet I’d gotten.
“Why you so quiet?” he asked.
“No reason. I had a really good time tonight,” I smiled. Truth was, this nigga had me wide open—and we hadn’t even kissed yet.
“Me too.” He reached over and rested his hand on my thigh, and something about the way it lingered—I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but things felt more serious between us than when the evening started. I knew he felt it too.
When we pulled up to my building, he came around to open my door.
“You sure you straight?” he asked, rubbing my arm.
“I’m good, Cash. Promise,” I laughed softly, hoping it’d ease whatever was going through his head. He nodded, but didn’t make a move, just looked at me.
I held my breath. Was he going to kiss me or what?
“I’ll hit you up tomorrow,” he said finally, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to leave.
My shoulders dropped watching him walk back towards his car.
After a few steps, he spun back around, grabbed me and crashed his mouth onto mine.
Weeks of tension finally snapped as we both finally gave in. I melted into his solid frame as his tongue slid into my mouth. He tasted like cognac and sin, and I knew if I wasn’t careful he’d become my addiction.
A soft moan escaped me as his hands dropped to my ass, pulling me closer to him. The kiss was softer than I expected, but the hunger was undeniable. My nipples pebbled and the ache between my thighs flared back to life. I could feel my arousal starting to drip down my legs.
Cash broke the kiss with an unsteady breath, his jaw tight like he was trying to hold himself back.
He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. “You ‘bout to be a serious fucking problem for me, woman.”
I fought the smile tugging at my lips as I turned toward the door.
The feeling was mutual.
Because I was ready to let Cash Banks ruin my life in more ways than one.