“You got any weed?” I asked Ray who was on the couch in the living room.
“I don’t know, Bear, do you know how to knock?” Ray asked, shooting daggers at me with her eyes.
“Never knocked before.”
“I wasn’t breastfeeding before,” Ray said, and that’s when I noticed the little bundle of pink pressed up against Ray’s bare tit. I’d never seen anyone breastfeed a baby before. Not in person at least. I always thought it would be something gross, but I was wrong. Baby attached to it or not, a bare tit is still a bare tit and although I knew my feelings for Ray had never been anything real, she was still fucking beautiful…and her tit was still out.
“You got any weed?” I asked again, trying not to look at her tit but in the process managing to only look at her tit.
She grabbed a small blanket from over the couch and slung it over her shoulder. “You can look now.”
“Don’t think I ever stopped,” I admitted. “But do you? It’s kind of important.” It was actually very important. I’d fucked up. I kissed Thia. I pressed my tongue into her * and in all my life I can honestly say that I’d never tasted anything so fucking amazing.
But then I got up and left her sitting there probably wondering what the fuck she’d done wrong when she’d done nothing wrong. It was the opposite. She’d done everything right.
Too fucking right.
She was so responsive and I knew that if I spent any more time with my mouth on her or touching her in any way that she would have come.
It was the mere thought of her coming around my tongue that set me off and made me start to lose control. Shit? it was probably that first fucking kiss. Her innocent tongue finding its way to mine.
My cock was so hard it fucking hurt and I was seconds away from taking her right there at the edge of the fire pit. If it wasn’t for a crackling of the fire, a reminder of what I’d been through in that very same spot bringing me back to reality there was no doubt that I would have done just that.
The weed was my peace offering to her. My way to show her that I really did want to make her forget in a way that didn’t involve me plowing through the barrier of her virgin * with my cock. I also had something else to tell her. Something that kept me on track with my original plan to get back on the fucking road.
“You think I can smoke weed while breastfeeding?” Ray asked, calling me back to the present.
“I take it from the way you’re looking at me like I’m a fuck up that the answer to that is a big resounding motherfucking no?” I asked.
“You would be right,” Ray said. “King is in his studio, he keeps everything locked up pretty tight these days with the kids around, but he probably has something.” She shifted the baby and her shirt before sliding the cover off. “Now was that so hard?” I liked arguing with Ray almost as much as I liked arguing with Ti.
HA HA you just admitted you like fighting with her. You have a crush you big fucking *!
I rolled my eyes at Preppy’s mental commentary.
King was in his new studio, on the other side of the garage from the apartment, just as Ray had said he would be. He was hunched over an angled desk, his pencil moving quickly over the page. I leaned over to check out what he was drawing, it was an old school style dragon, breathing flames and it was one of the most detailed sketches I’d ever seen him do. Dramatic. Bold. “Nice digs,” I said, looking around his new studio. His old one was just a small room in the house, outfitted in neon and posters. This one was cleaner, more grown up. More sterile. Pictures of previous tattoos he’d done hung in frames on the wall, a KING’S TATTOO sign with a skull wearing a crown hung over the door.
“Thanks. Feels good to have a workspace again since the kids take up every inch of the house and then some. Never knew kids had so much shit,” he said, smudging a line with his pinky, wiping the top of the page with the side of his hand.
“You always surprise me, brother. This is next level shit right here,” I said, pointing to his dragon.
“You’ll never fucking guess who it’s for,” King said, spinning around on his stool.
“Who?”
“Ray’s dad.”
“No fucking shit. Senator asshole is getting tatted up? What happened to the good old days when we were planning his quick and timely demise?” I asked as I continued to look around the wall at the different types of tattoos he’d done.
“Things change. He’s got all sorts of scars where he took the bullet in his chest and his shoulder. Wants a dragon to cover up part of it, reminds him of the old Jet Li movies he likes or some shit like that.”
“If I had any room left I’d have you put that on me. Shit’s totally fucking tits man,” I said. “Speaking of tits, I just saw Ray up at the house and I was wondering if you’ve got any weed.”