Read Online Finding Forever by Keisha Ervin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Keisha Ervin
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want to lie to Whitney any more than he had to.
“FAM,” Koran heard a familiar voice say. In front of the building was the birthday boy, Sheek. “What took you so long to get here?”
“C’mon, you know how I do. I never step out the house if my shit ain’t all the way right.” Koran smiled, running his hands over his face and clothes.
“Nigga, please.”
“I know you ain’t hatin’?”
“Picture that, but, ay, where your girl at? I thought you said she was coming,” Sheek asked as they made their way to the door.
“Why you worried about my girl?”
“I’m just tryin’ to make sure you straight, ’cause I don’t wanna hear none of that bitch ass complaining tonight. It’s my birthday. I ain’t for no bullshit. I’m tryin’ to kick it.”
“You got me fucked up. My girl in there chillin’ dog.”
“A’ight then, that’s what’s up, c’mon.”
The atmosphere inside Nectar was poppin’. If St. Louis had a red light district this would be it. The interior design was off the meter. Hanging from the ceiling was an assortment of lantern lights that doused the room with a seedy scarlet hue. The hypnotic glow of amber-shaded lamps also filled the many spaces and angles of the room. Lush curtains covered the windows. In the center of the dance floor was a two-sided diamond shaped bar. Right next to the entryway was a private balcony. Red and black leather couches and benches amplified the space.
“Damn, this muthafucka packed,” Koran admitted, surveying the spot.
“It’s always like this on Saturdays.”
“I’m gon’ have to come here more often.”
“Yo, ain’t that yo’ girl over there?” Sheek pointed across the room.
Sure enough Whitney was on the dance floor with her hands up in the air, grooving to Glenn Lewis’s, “Back for More.” The reggae-inspired beat complimented her seductive moves. Whitney was a beast when it came to dancing. She could wind her hips with the best of them and when she dropped down low it made Koran want her even more. All the women in the spot were scantily clad in sexy outfits but, Whitney stood out the most. The black jersey tank dress she wore clung to her curves. The hem stopped midway down her thigh, accentuating her ballerina like legs and Scorah Pattullo heels.
Koran couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way she twisted and twirled had his dick harder than a jawbreaker. His tongue couldn’t wait to savor her skin with sensual kisses. He couldn’t take it. The environment was hot and sticky like her cream when she came. Fuck waiting until they got home, he wanted to make love in the club.
Koran was just about to make his way over to her when he noticed O step in behind her. Shocked, he played the background and peeped the scene for a second. Whitney didn’t even know he was behind her as she slithered her way up from the floor. A look of surprise burst onto her face when her butt pressed up against his hard dick.
Whitney quickly turned around. Once she recognized it was O she playfully hit him on the chest, then continued to dance. Koran was disappointed. He expected her to walk away. O, on the other hand, seemed to be quite pleased with himself. His hands roamed freely down the sides of Whitney’s waist as her booty popped and bounced. Heated, Koran made his way through the club. Not in the mood for pleasantries, he bo-guarded his way between Whitney and O.
“Hi, baby,” she gleefully smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“What’s up wit you?” Koran took her by the waist and turned around so he could get a good view of O. “I got this, homeboy.”
“My bad, I was just keepin’ it warm for you,” O responded with a smirk on his face. He was drunk.
“Oh, that’s how you feel?” Koran got in his face and pressed his forehead up against his.
“Koran, calm down,” Whitney begged, tugging on his shoulder.
“Man, you
“FAM,” Koran heard a familiar voice say. In front of the building was the birthday boy, Sheek. “What took you so long to get here?”
“C’mon, you know how I do. I never step out the house if my shit ain’t all the way right.” Koran smiled, running his hands over his face and clothes.
“Nigga, please.”
“I know you ain’t hatin’?”
“Picture that, but, ay, where your girl at? I thought you said she was coming,” Sheek asked as they made their way to the door.
“Why you worried about my girl?”
“I’m just tryin’ to make sure you straight, ’cause I don’t wanna hear none of that bitch ass complaining tonight. It’s my birthday. I ain’t for no bullshit. I’m tryin’ to kick it.”
“You got me fucked up. My girl in there chillin’ dog.”
“A’ight then, that’s what’s up, c’mon.”
The atmosphere inside Nectar was poppin’. If St. Louis had a red light district this would be it. The interior design was off the meter. Hanging from the ceiling was an assortment of lantern lights that doused the room with a seedy scarlet hue. The hypnotic glow of amber-shaded lamps also filled the many spaces and angles of the room. Lush curtains covered the windows. In the center of the dance floor was a two-sided diamond shaped bar. Right next to the entryway was a private balcony. Red and black leather couches and benches amplified the space.
“Damn, this muthafucka packed,” Koran admitted, surveying the spot.
“It’s always like this on Saturdays.”
“I’m gon’ have to come here more often.”
“Yo, ain’t that yo’ girl over there?” Sheek pointed across the room.
Sure enough Whitney was on the dance floor with her hands up in the air, grooving to Glenn Lewis’s, “Back for More.” The reggae-inspired beat complimented her seductive moves. Whitney was a beast when it came to dancing. She could wind her hips with the best of them and when she dropped down low it made Koran want her even more. All the women in the spot were scantily clad in sexy outfits but, Whitney stood out the most. The black jersey tank dress she wore clung to her curves. The hem stopped midway down her thigh, accentuating her ballerina like legs and Scorah Pattullo heels.
Koran couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way she twisted and twirled had his dick harder than a jawbreaker. His tongue couldn’t wait to savor her skin with sensual kisses. He couldn’t take it. The environment was hot and sticky like her cream when she came. Fuck waiting until they got home, he wanted to make love in the club.
Koran was just about to make his way over to her when he noticed O step in behind her. Shocked, he played the background and peeped the scene for a second. Whitney didn’t even know he was behind her as she slithered her way up from the floor. A look of surprise burst onto her face when her butt pressed up against his hard dick.
Whitney quickly turned around. Once she recognized it was O she playfully hit him on the chest, then continued to dance. Koran was disappointed. He expected her to walk away. O, on the other hand, seemed to be quite pleased with himself. His hands roamed freely down the sides of Whitney’s waist as her booty popped and bounced. Heated, Koran made his way through the club. Not in the mood for pleasantries, he bo-guarded his way between Whitney and O.
“Hi, baby,” she gleefully smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“What’s up wit you?” Koran took her by the waist and turned around so he could get a good view of O. “I got this, homeboy.”
“My bad, I was just keepin’ it warm for you,” O responded with a smirk on his face. He was drunk.
“Oh, that’s how you feel?” Koran got in his face and pressed his forehead up against his.
“Koran, calm down,” Whitney begged, tugging on his shoulder.
“Man, you
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