Chapter Seven.
My Lady: I’m not feeling well. My period just came. Can you buy me some period panties and bring them over? Pretty please.
You ain’t ever gotta say please to me. Cut that shit out. I’m coming as soon as I’m done. Send me a pic of what they look like, Ree.
After the last bullet Danger sent through a nigga’s head that day, all he could think about was getting to Caresha. It wasn’t just because she had texted him asking for feminine products, either. Nah. He had already planned on pulling up on her before she ever sent that message.
Danger had been so busy in the streets that he hadn’t laid eyes on her since the night of the reception. Call it whatever you want, but one day without seeing her in person was enough to drive him crazy. The FaceTime calls and texts weren’t enough. He needed to touch her…breathe her.
Looking beautiful as usual to Danger, Caresha opened the door as soon as she heard his knuckles hit the wood.
“He—”
Before she could finish, Danger stepped inside, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her against him.
His lips crashed into hers, cutting her off as he kissed her hungrily.
He kicked the door shut behind him with his boot, then reached back and locked it with one hand without breaking the kiss.
By the time they finally pulled apart, both were hot and breathing a little heavier.
“Hey,” Caresha finally managed to say.
“Sup, ma.”
“Nothing. Just been waiting on you.”
They stood there, gazing at each other, a smile stretching across her face.
“Why you looking at me like that?” Danger asked, breaking the silence.
“Because you’re handsome.”
A grin spread across his face, mirroring hers. “I appreciate that, beautiful. But is that all that’s on your mind?”
Caresha hesitated, breaking eye contact. Danger noticed how she nervously chewed on the corner of her glossy lip. He gently cupped her chin, guiding her to look him in the eyes again.
“Is that all that’s on your mind?” He asked once more.
The simple touch sent an unexplainable wave through Caresha. She slowly shook her head.
“No.”
“Then tell me what else.”
“You’ve been drinking.” She said, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground. She could taste the Hennessy on his tongue.
“I been drinking and smoking. Been shooting niggas all day too. Fuck does that got to do with anything? Don’t change the subject, ma. Tell me.”
“I already told your ass something. You tell me something. Matter of fact, where is my shit?” Caresha searched his hands, but there was no bag in sight.
“I’m not playing with you, Ree.”
Danger stood on business, not allowing her to deflect.
His hand slid from her chin to the back of her head, his fingers sinking into the roots of her messy spiral curls, squeezing gently.
And as she parted her lips to gasp, he leaned down and kissed her again, slower this time.
His grip on her hair loosened, then his hand moved to the small of her back, holding her close.
When the kiss finally broke, Caresha rested her forehead against his chest, inhaling his Creed cologne.
“Mmm…I missed you.” She confessed.
The words slipped out before she could catch them, surprising her.
She wasn’t that girl. She’d never been the type to sit around missing a nigga.
Yet somehow, Danger’s fine, dangerous ass had her counting the days, waiting on phone calls, and standing at the front door before he even knocked because she could hear his bike rumbling outside.
She didn’t know when it happened; she just knew it had.
He even had her lying, saying she needed things she didn’t.
Sure, Caresha liked her period panties more while chilling at home, but she had tampons stashed in her cabinet to hold her over until she could hit the store the next morning.
She only bothered Danger about the panties to see if he’d bring them, and to catch a glimpse of his face.
She liked him… like really, really liked him.
It felt refreshing. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this way about a guy.
“I missed you, too. Go pack a bag. You coming with me. Yo’ panties downstairs, inside my bike.” Danger gave her a tap on the butt.
Her missing him hadn’t surprised him. He could see it in her eyes.
That was why he’d pushed the issue. He wanted to hear her say it, to make sure the feeling was mutual before admitting it himself.
Part of him felt like a simp-ass nigga for wanting to say it out loud.
This wasn’t him. He usually didn’t stick around long enough with a chick to feel anything beyond pussy.
But with Caresha, he had fucked up. She stirred up all kinds of emotions in him.
“What?”
“You heard me. Pack a bag, Ree. Enough shit for about a week.”
“A week?”
“Yes. You calling in and telling them niggas you need a few more days off.”
“That’s not how that works. You talkin’ about calling in multiple days with no real proof of an excuse.”
“That’s how it works when you fuckin’ with me. Make the call. If there’s a problem, I’ll pull up on Brad Cartwright myself and tell him.”
Without another word, Danger sprawled out on her couch, eyeing her with a look that told her to hurry the fuck up. He wasn’t about to explain himself any further. They both knew where they were headed and why. She was spending her days off with him at his place.
Stunned, Caresha couldn’t believe his ass had figured out who her boss was.
More and more, she was discovering just how crazy Danger could be.
But she didn’t bother asking him how he found that information out, nor did she put up a fight.
Despite the cramps killing her, she made her way from the living room down the hallway and into her bedroom.
With a cute little smirk on her face, Caresha grabbed her pink gym bag from the closet and tossed in some medicine, clothes, shoes, and her personal hygiene products.
Fuck it. She was calling in. Once she was packed, she changed out of her gown into a two-piece outfit and tennis shoes before meeting Danger back in the living room.
After locking up, they headed down the steps. Danger took Caresha’s bag and placed it in his saddlebag beside her box of panties before securing his helmet on her head.
“Ooh, not me getting to ride the bike now.” She joked, glancing at the Harley glistening beneath the streetlights as he helped her onto it. A chick like her wasn’t the least bit scared, though it was her first time riding one.
Danger chuckled as he climbed on in front of her and started the engine. “Told you, you play yo’ cards right, you get a lot of shit from me.”
Giggling, Caresha wrapped her arms around his waist, preparing herself for the ride.
With the way Danger had her feeling, she’d go anywhere with him.
She trusted him. More & More by Joe filled the air as they cruised through the city.
Danger leaned into each turn, shifting his weight with the Harley as he guided them around corners and eased through traffic.
All smiles, Caresha watched the city slide by, enjoying the way he handled the bike like it was an extension of him.
But by the time they pulled up to his home, she was pouting, eager to take a few more Midol PMs and curl up in his bed against him.
The lengthy ride had brought her cramps back.
“It smells so good in here.” She complimented, inhaling the mix of his cologne and the mahogany teakwood candles he had lit. Both scents mingled heavily in the air.
“Appreciate you. You want something?”
“Just water.” She replied, taking note of the mess in the living room.
Danger’s home was nice and smelled even better, but he was a junky muthafucka. Being a neat freak, Caresha caught it right away and discreetly rolled her eyes.
“Good. ’Cause I ain’t got shit but water and Gatorade.”
“Then why the hell you offer?” Caresha snickered, shaking her head. “Something wrong with you.”
After grabbing her a bottle of water, Danger guided her up the steps into his bedroom, where he started barking orders. “Take that shit off. Go put them panties on and lay down.”
“Not you bossing me around.” She shot back, but he just shrugged with a smirk as she went about her way.
Inside the restroom, while she was pulling out her tampon, he barged in completely naked. “Dee, what the hell? Give me a minute.” She froze, embarrassment flooding her face. Caresha was sure that if her skin weren’t so perfectly dark, her cheeks would be bright red.
“A nigga don’t care about that. Handle yo’ business. It’s all good.”
Without a care in the world, Danger moved past her and turned on the shower. As soon as the water warmed up, he climbed inside, lathering up the sponge and scrubbing himself.
Meanwhile, Caresha took a deep breath and resumed her routine, stepping into her panties. While doing so, she silently thanked God for her monthly cycle, thinking it would help her fight her urges and stick to her guns a little longer. Danger was fine as wine.
Little did she know that while she was handling her business, Danger was watching her intently through the shower glass, plotting until she stepped out. Once he finished washing up, he dried off, applied deodorant and lotion, slipped on his boxers, and met her back in the bedroom.
“How many women have you brought here?” Caresha asked, sitting at the edge of the bed and scrolling through the Netflix app.
“One,” Danger replied truthfully. “You.”
“Stop lying.”
“I don’t lie about shit. You and only you, ma. I promise you that.”
Caresha stared at him, and something in his eyes made her believe he was telling the truth.
“Who told you to put those pajamas back on? I said panties only.” Danger shifted the subject while applying a new bandage to his leg.
“I told myself so. I’m cold.”
“Then get under the covers.”
“I am, but—”
“But nothing. Do as I say.”