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Tisha quirked his brows. “Rolls?”
Maxwell touched his sides. “You know what I’m saying. Love handles.”
“Aww.” Tisha nodded. “I think of them as love cushions.”
“I like that. Love cushions.” Maxwell pulled out two joints and handed one to me. “I’m going to steal that.”
Clasping the joint between the thumb and index finger, I raised it to my lips.
One of my men stepped in front of me and lit the tip.
The orange flame flickered as I inhaled. The rich scent of cannabis filled my senses. Smoke curled and swirled around me.
A sweet, honeyed taste coated my tongue.
Mmmm.
Maxwell grinned at me. “This is called Cookies and Cream. It’s a mix of two strains—Girl Scout Cookies and Starfighter.”
I had no idea what he was saying, but I damn sure enjoyed the marijuana.
Maxwell lit his own, tilted his head back, and blew out a large ring of smoke.
I watched in utter fascination. “Teach me that.”
“First I have to teach you to stop spitting on the weed.”
I frowned.
Tisha studied us through veils of smoke, the cigar still smoldering between his fingers. “Okay, here’s another rule.”
I inhaled some more, and the world seemed to tilt slightly, the edges blurring into a soft focus that made everything feel more vibrant, more alive.
Another one of my men took the bottle of vodka from me. Perhaps, I was about to drop it or something.
Tisha flicked cigar ash on the carpet. “Minus five points if she’s a professional.”
“Professional?” Maxwell echoed through a cloud of smoke, his brow furrowed. “Like a stripper or a sex worker?”
“Yes.”
“But, we’re in a strip club. I’m definitely fucking one of them in here on top of some of the chicks at the table.”
“Negative five points.” Tisha glanced over at another table full of all voluptuous women. Their ample curves emphasized by their tight dresses. “You mess with a stripper, and you lose points.”
Maxwell snorted. “Not fair man, that’s like asking a dog not to chase its tail.”
“It’s easy to score with a professional,” Tisha looked back at him. “But the thrill is in the hunt, not the meal.”
Maxwell chuckled at that.
“Alright then, Mr. Hunter.” He took another drag from his joint. “Let’s put the points on these size specifications though.”
Tisha nodded. “Ten extra points for women over 200 pounds, fifteen for those over 250, and a whopping twenty-five for those over 300 pounds.”
“Goddamn. You aren’t playing over there.”
“Then, we agree?” Tisha eyed him. “The more ample the figure, the more points.”
