Faheem was standing at the front door, the smell of weed filled up my nostrils. “I gotta run.”

He looked me up and down before I could ask him why: and just like I thought he would, he took control of me. Faheem started kissing me with one of the most passionate kisses I’d ever had. His lips felt like pillows. We were so close to each other I could feel his joint through my robe. He was definitely hung. We kept kissing until I felt myself climaxing. What the hell?

“Fafa..heeem….in!” I cried out his name.

Faheem let me go, kissed me on my forehead, and left. I stood there in a daze. I’d never had an orgasm from a man kissing me. That was a first. My legs felt weak, so I stumbled over to the sofa. I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up hours later, my body still had that feeling of bliss. I wondered if Faheem and I could take it any further.

Chapter Thirty

BO

“Y’all know this is my favorite Chinese joint! As much as I come in here, y’all can’t even give me a plastic cup for free? No extra duck sauce?” I joked with the owner, I called Mr. Chow. I don’t even think that’s his name, but he had been answering to it since I had been coming to the little hole in the wall restaurant in downtown Trenton.

I grabbed my food and the two containers of iced tea. As soon as I stepped out of the door, I heard, “Yo, take a ride with me, dawg.”

I looked up, and by the colors the two niggas were wearing, they were Kings. My man’s tone was firm but friendly. I could tell this was strictly business.

“Man, I ain’t got no time for young boys. A nigga tryna get back to the crib and eat.” I tried to walk off, mad at myself for getting caught slippin’. I had bags in both hands. I couldn’t get to my gun, and it was broad daylight.

The main King got in my face. “Make time, Duke.” He flashed his burner to let me know he wasn’t playing.

I looked at the gun and laughed. “Nigga, do what you gonna do.”

“C’mon, Bo, don’t make this hard. If we wanted to kill you, you know you’d be dead already.”

I knew he wasn’t lying. These young boys had Trenton fucked up. These niggas were pulling mass killings in broad daylight and having shoot-outs in public places like this was the Wild West. They didn’t give a fuck!

A blood-red Charger pulled up in front of us. The vibe I was getting wasn’t hostile. After what we just pulled off, I was expecting some clap back, but not like this. This was formal and obviously thought out. So now I was curious.