Kismet (Beyond the Bedroom Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

girl, is that your silver 300?” I nodded yes. “Go across the street and park at the nail shop next to the chicken spot and my boy is going to pull up on you.”
     
    This is the part I hate about using a new drug dealer. What if he was an undercover police officer? I made myself find comfort in the dollar sign on his tooth and the fact he kept smoking his blunt in public like it was a Newport cigarette.
     
    I drove across the street and parked. Like clockwork, a bright yellow Monte Carlo pulled up next to me. How do you sell drugs in a car the color of a banana on a hot summer day and expect not to get caught or be noticed? Either he kept his hustling tight or was flat out dumb!
     
    I lowered my windows; the driver rolled up his, got out of the car and then looked in my direction. He didn’t look directly at me; it was more like he was checking out his surroundings. He must have thought I could be the police, too. I was glad the feeling was mutual.
     
    “Unlock the door, ma.” I must have been fiending for this high because I did exactly as I was told. “Start your car up and let’s hit a block.”
     
    I turned to look him in the eye to tell him I didn’t know the area, but the words got stuck in my throat. He was absolutely breath taking. Caramel skin tone, thick, full lips, dark brown eyes with shoulder length dreads.
     
    He had a cut under his left eye that he tried to cover up with a tattoo. That rough shit turns me on. He was wearing Curve cologne, one of my all-time favorite scents, Ralph Lauren Polo from head to toe that he must have just purchased because the XXL sticker was still on it, and a cell phone on his lap.
     
    “I’m not from around here, left or right?” Digging in his pocket, he said, “Just go around the block once, baby, I'm a weigh it out while you driving.”
     
    He tested the scale with a nickel, reset it, and poured some weed on it. I peeked to make sure I wasn’t being cheated. The scales read 31.3 grams.
     
    “That’s all you, baby; slide me a hundred and we g ood, and trust me, I got you right. You and your man are going to thank me later for this here.”
     
    It was like a reflex the way it came from my mouth. “I don’t have a man,” I replied, not wanting to sound desperate. I finished my statement with, “But, I got weed now, so I am good.” Then I licked my lips. That’s when he finally looked at me, but briefly and only at my lips.
     
    “Here goes my number, baby; if you ever need to get right, give me a call. I’m Dre. I deliver, but I’m charging a fee like Pizza Hut.”
     
    I pulled up at his car and thought of seven nasty things I would do to him if he ever knocked on my door with a delivery before he even cranked up his engine.
     
    I drove all the way to Bellevue wondering what sex with him would be like. I could tell by his demeanor he liked rough sex. His walk was priceless. I loved a man who was on his shit and knew it!
     
    Dre had proved himself to be honest, too, because the high I got that night was as close to a California high as I was going to get in the south.
     
    The weed was so good, I felt like I needed to be freshly bathed to keep smoking. I put it out at the half way point, went to draw a bath, and started a load of laundry.
     
    I took an hour long bubble bath while listening to Baby Face sing me song after song on his greatest hits CD.
     
    He had just finished telling me how he would buy my clothes, cook me dinner, and pay my rent soon as he got home from work when I got out of the tub.
     
    I ended my bath before my body shriveled up like a raisin and lotioned down with the 100% shea butter I purchased from an African sister in Atlantic Station . It works wonders on ashy elbows and blending my skin tone.
     
    “Damn, girl you looking good.”
     
    I had caught a glimpse of my naked body in the mirror through the candle light and bathroom mist. I loved what I saw. Not a fat roll or dent anywhere and no ink in my skin with