Primal: Part One Read Online Free PDF Page A

more aware of his perfectly straight teeth, his strong jaw line, his Adam’s apple.  How many women had kissed those lips?  Where had life taken the boy she dated for the first four months of their senior year?  Jovan took her to Finley High’s homecoming game.  They made out long and hard that night, but she never reached into his lap, and he didn’t slip a hand inside her panties.
    When he was done laughing, he asked, “Are you hungry?  Wanna get something to eat?”
    She did, but she didn’t know if she wanted to hang out with the likes of him.  She chuckled, catching herself.  The club business was filled with shady characters.  She knew a lot of drug dealers.  She brought in a few women of ill repute to keep the VIP happy on multiple occasions.  But she never thought about managing them.  What would that make her, a pimp?
    This was too much.
    “Are you gonna be okay?” he asked.
    “Yeah,” she said, struggling to get her thoughts together.  “Sure.”
    “So, you wanna get something to eat?” he asked again.  As she checked the time on her phone, he said, “There’s an I HOP not too far from here.”
    As far as late night dining went, that wasn’t a bad choice.  It was better than the Waffle House, where club-hoppers loved to settle their late night beefs.  But if she agreed to go with him, she would also be agreeing to entertain his indecent proposal.
    She sighed and convinced herself there was nothing wrong with hearing him out.  If anything, she had to know how a boy she went to school with got himself involved in the world’s oldest profession.
    “Alright,” she told him.  “I can meet you there in forty-five minutes.  I have to take care of some things here first.”
    He smiled graciously.  “Great.  Me too!  Your boyfriend will be okay with you being out so late?”
    Monica forgot she had told him that.  “Oh, yeah, he’ll be fine.  This is business, right?”
    He nodded.  “Of course.  I’ll see you there.”
    He stood and helped her to her feet.  As she stepped away, she wondered about his Me too , comment.  Did Jovan have business with someone at the club?  There were a lot of eyes on him tonight.  If one of the ladies he met wanted to hook up, how would he talk them into paying for it?  Surely he wasn’t that bold.
    She couldn’t have been more intrigued.
     
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    She arrived at the restaurant first.  Before she got out of her car, she saw Jovan pull up in a pearl white BMW.  The car looked to be no more than two years old.  She met up with him as he exited the vehicle.
    “Whatever you’re doing seems to be paying well,” she commented.
    “Not whatever – whoever ,” he said and chirped the alarm.
    It was after two a.m. when they were seated in a booth near the front of the restaurant.  Jovan ordered waffles, while Monica opted for chicken Florentine crepes.  While they waited for their food, she thought back to their first date in 1994.  Jovan took her to a burger joint, which she considered fine dining at the time.  He picked her up in a T-top Camaro.  Monica’s sister warned her that any boy who drove a car like that was sure to be moving way too fast for her, but that wasn’t the case with Jovan.
    He was smart, witty and funny.  Monica didn’t run him off when she wouldn’t kiss on the first date or when she wouldn’t have sex after the fifth.  Jovan said he liked that she was different, and he’d be respectful of her decision to wait – not that it stopped him from trying.  There were many instances when their kissing and touching transitioned well past second base, but Monica would always catch herself.
    As far as she could tell, Jovan was never resentful when he repositioned his boner, so it wouldn’t bump the steering wheel as he drove her home.  But then again, they did break up after only four months of dating.  Monica knew that Jovan went on to enjoy several fruitful and sexual relationships