Page 43 of A Little Kissing Between Friends

“Wha—”

Shaking her head, she cut me off. “I know you said we’re good, but this shit still don’t feel right.”

My brows shot up but I stayed silent, giving her time to work out what she wanted to say. To say I was surprised that she even brought it up would’ve been an understatement.

She pulled off her fitted and scratched her scalp before sliding the hat back on.

“Jucee,” she began in a somber tone that made my heart pound a little faster with dread, “you mean so much to me, you can’t even understand. I don’t want to lose this shit we have. I don’t want to lose you. Worrying about it has been hell, not seeing you for a week even though we’re in the same city was hell, and I don’t want to experience no shit like that ever again.”

Her words wrapped round me like a warm blanket. Avoiding her hadn’t been the easiest thing for me either, but it was comforting to know that I wasn’t the only one who suffered from the distance.

Her fitted was kind of crooked and her eyebrows were furrowed a little, like she was thinking hard about what she wanted to say, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a little hopeful. Lawd, but I hated it. You know that feeling when you were a kid and you’d been begging ya mama for an Easy Bake Oven for Christmas and she repeatedly told you that it was too expensive, but then The Big Day arrives and there’s a box under the tree that looks about the size of an Easy Bake Oven and feels about as heavy as you imagined an Easy Bake Oven felt and you look over at ya mama and she’s sitting on the sofa giving you this look—you know the look—that makes this flower of hopefulness bloom inside of you, but you’re afraid to let it grow because you heard her tell your granny that she worked two jobs just to make ends meet, and although you didn’t know what that meant, you knew what “too expensive” meant and it was possible that it was just a big-ass box of socks and underwear and frilly dresses for church, but that look?! That’s how I felt as I stared at Poppa’s face. She was back to being Poppa—my Poppa—and the uncontrollable hope had me stressed.

Twisting my lips to the side, I slid my hands into the back pockets of my jean shorts. “What are you saying?” I wasn’t in a position to guess. I needed her to lay it all out for me.

She licked her lips, the gesture making her nerves plain, but she never broke eye contact with me as she said, “I want us to try for something more. Something...beyond friendship.”

I felt my cheeks bloom like that hope in my chest as a slow grin spread across my face. “You thought about it and decided you wanna let me eat that pussy, huh?”

Laughter burst from her mouth as she covered her face with a hand and dropped her head back. The move exposed the smooth skin of her neck, and my lips tingled with the desire to kiss her there. It was only the need for confirmation from her that held me back.

“I mean...” she drawled, her voice suddenly low as she returned her gaze to mine. “Yeah. Among other things.”

The look in those dark brown irises coupled with the outright suggestiveness in her tone, plus her admission and the vision of me doing exactly that, had me throbbing with want. Sucking in a breath, I placed a palm on each of her shoulders and pushed her back against the wall.

If she wanted it like I wanted it, then she could get it right now.

Trailing my hands down over her breasts and her torso, I settled them at her waist. My grip was firm and I watched her face as I spoke. So far, nothing but anticipation looked back at me. I dipped my fingers into her waistband.

“You sure this is what you want?”

Her immediate nod was unsatisfactory. While I was glad she didn’t hesitate, I wanted to hear that voice. Thankfully, she knew me as well as she did, because when I quirked an eyebrow at her, she grinned and shook her head.

“Yeah, man. I know exactly what I want, and it’s this right here, with you.”

I didn’t even realize she’d raised her hand until her fingers found my chin and she used it to pull me toward her. My heart was beating so hard I was sure it would burst through my titties. Her lips found mine, and I sighed. It was perfect. Like that first breeze of air conditioning touching your skin after you’ve been outside playing all day in the summer. Or getting the first cup of ice-cold Kool-Aid that was made by your baby brother who’s always heavy-handed with the sugar. The way our mouths seemed to fit like the most important pieces of a heart-shaped puzzle that only had the center missing just made sense. Like this was already written in the code of whatever simulation we were living in. It was a relatively chaste kiss, only ending when she licked the seam of my mouth before pulling back as soon as I opened for her. The teasing was right up my alley, and I wanted more of it.

I almost melted into a puddle of pure happiness and lust.

“I want you, Juleesa Marie Jones.” The corner of her mouth tipped up. “And I really wanna see what that mouth do.”

I was laughing before I realized it, and it wasn’t until that moment that it hit me how important that was for us. Poppa and I stayed clowning so much that laughter was like another language for us. That wasn’t something that I wanted to lose just because we decided to jump the platonic ship and land on deck of the romantic one.

Still chuckling, I pursed my lips and began to unbutton her jeans. Watching her face was like observing a world wonder. Her laughter petered out and she sucked that juicy-ass bottom lip into her mouth as her eyes became hooded with lust. Even if she hadn’t told me, it was as clear as glass that she wanted me—at least in this moment. And with the way I wanted her, nothing could’ve prevented me from pushing her pants down her thick-ass thighs and squatting in front of her. I glanced up, waiting for some sort of protest, but when she remained silent, her eyes begging me to continue, I did as I’d intended.

First, I reached around and palmed her ass, something that had been on my mind for a while. I’d felt her ass before but it was different in this context. This wasn’t an accidental grope in the middle of the night as we slept next to each other. This was intentional and purely for pleasure—mine and hers. I only spent a short time kneading her cheeks, but when Poppa huffed a soft breath through her nose and grunted, I knew it was something I’d be returning to as soon as I was able.

Sliding my hands around her hips, I reached the front of her boy shorts and ran two fingers along the slit between her fat lips through the material, moaning at what I found. She was already so damn wet, my mouth watered in anticipation. The brand of underwear she wore was from an inclusive designer and had a buttoned hole in the front. I quickly undid the two buttons and used my two index fingers to separate the fabric as I leaned forward and stuck my nose inside. The intoxicating scent of her arousal was expected—finding her completely bald was not. That’s not what I remembered from a couple of weeks ago. Grinning, I shook my head. One thing about Poppa, she was going to defy stereotypes when you least expected it.

From the positioning of the hole and because Poppa’s pussy was so fat, the only thing I could reach was the very top of her slit. With my fingers rubbing her through the shorts, I gave her one slow lick. You would’ve thought I’d bit her with the way she hissed and jerked against me. Pulling back, I met her gaze.

“You okay?”

Her chin dipped, but she stopped mid-nod and gave me a smile. “I’m better than okay. I’m just—I don’t get a lot of action down there, so it’s sensitive.”

My eyes bugged, but I quickly lowered my head to hide my reaction. With all of the women who constantly hovered around her everywhere she went, I expected that Poppa got head as a part of her daily vitamins. Hearing that the truth was actually opposite shocked me.

And fueled me.