Page 27 of Double

We both moved over to the shoe rack and selected our footwear for the day. Oxfords were my shoe of choice in gray with black laces and piping to match the gray suit I wore. Once my shoes were on, I watched from the corner of my eye as Tinsley eased the chestnut suede of her thigh-high boots up her leg.

I felt my dick stir. I was proud of myself for how I’d managed to keep my hands to myself with her, when all I wanted to do was feel her suppleness beneath me. It had only been a week, but I was ready to consummate the marriage. She was a virgin, though, so I already understood that I was going to have to remain patient.

Once we were in my truck, it was a task for me to keep my eyes off her exposed thigh and on the road ahead of me.

She giggled when she caught me looking. “I take it that you’re a leg man, Double.”

I chuckled. “Maybe. I might just be a skin man, and yours looks soft as hell. All I really wanna do is reach over and touch it.” I hadn’t planned on saying that, but once it was out of my mouth, I wasn’t about to take it back.

She was quiet for a few minutes before she softly said, “Okay.”

I didn’t hesitate. I eased my right hand off the wheel and onto her supple thigh. Just like I knew it would, my hand practically melted into the softness. “Yeah,” I muttered, losing the battle to keep my smirk to myself.

She had tensed a little at the initial contact, but I heard her slowly exhale and release the tension. I let my hand continue to rest there as we drove.

“On Mondays, I do what I like to think of as rounds. Kinda like what a doctor would do—checking up on all his patients. My family owns a lot of businesses in the city. I mean, my family has the foundation Passion’s Project. My dad owns a chain of car shops. My mom owns a full-service salon; plus, she owns three locations of salon suites. Journey co-owns a medical space with her best friend, Anastasia, and our cousin, Royalty. Me and Justus own a property management company. Lucky runs a security firm. Got two cousins who run a martial arts dojo. And Big Hill owns the four-block stretch of Graystone Avenue where all of our businesses are located.”

“Your family is entrepreneurial like my family.”

I nodded.

“Just not wicked like my family,” she mumbled.

“My family is fiercely loyal to family,” I conceded.

I could feel her gaze bore into the side of my face. “As they should be.” She took a beat. “Where are we starting today?”

“The dojo.”

For more than two decades, Big Hill owned a lounge off of 87th Street called Classified. It was a discreet but popular place frequented by loyal clientele and locals in the know. Around the time my siblings and I were moving into our tween years, Big Hill noticed that every business around the lounge had either been abandoned or was becoming decrepit from neglect. Graystone Avenue was no longer the viable block it had once been.

He was no longer inclined to leave his suburban home at night to travel to the city to run a lounge that he believed was past its prime and usefulness. He was all set to sell the building containing the lounge, along with the two connecting buildings he owned, to a developer. When he found out that the developer intended to build a super-sized liquor store, Big Hill decided that the last thing the South Side needed was another liquor store.

For a four-block stretch, he bought his neighbors out. One by one, he collected buildings that he held onto for years. When my siblings, my cousins, and I came of age, we were able to use those buildings to open our own businesses.

The former Classified lounge had become the dojo. It was run by two of my cousins, L.P. and his sister Charity. Their father, Nasir Payne, was my mother’s first cousin.

I parked the truck, walked around to the passenger side, and helped Tinsley out of the truck. She was so fucking pretty with her freckles on display, her lip gloss popping, and her hair slicked up into a neat bun. It made her look like she was on her business. She didn’t know that I didn’t like anything more than I liked unraveling a buttoned-up woman. I wanted to unloosen that bun and watch her hair cascade around her face while she took my dick down her throat.

I was clearly horny. I needed to fuck up on something, but I was determined to be a faithful husband. I wouldn’t stick my dick anywhere it didn’t belong just to get off my need for some pussy.

I held her hand as we walked into the building that housed the dojo. I heard the small inhale Tinsley did when we entered the lobby. I couldn’t say that I blamed her. LP and Charity had gone out of their way to make the Payne Killer Martial Arts Studio the classiest dojo on the South Side. I watched as Tinsley took in the minimalistic space with its warm wooden flooring, neutral-colored rug, upholstered walls, lantern-like light fixtures, and the bonsai and lucky bamboo trees. The seating was simple wooden benches covered with off-white cushions. All of the furniture was made of wood, including the waist-high desk that Charity stood behind.

“Cousin,” Charity chirped as Tinsley and I crossed the room toward her.

She came from behind the desk just as I reached it and gave me a hug. “What’s good, girl?”

“Not much.” She eyed Tinsley.

“This is my wife, Tinsley.”

“Hey.” Tinsley gave her a shy wave.

“Hey.” Charity gave her a big smile, her dimples displaying themselves to us. “I was hoping I would get to meet you.” She pulled Tinsley into a quick hug. “Lyric’s been rubbing it in that she was the first one to meet you.” She took in Tinsley’s outfit. “Cute outfit. If there’s one thing my sister can do, it’s dress her ass off.”

That comment seemed to break Tinsley’s tension because she chuckled. “No lies told,” she said with a giggle. “This wasn’t necessarily my style before, but it’s definitely my style now.”

“It looks good on you. Plus, you’re matching Double’s fly. He likes to wear suits and stuff, so it’s good that you’re a fashion girly. What brings y’all by? I know you’re not enrolling your girl in classes.”