"Don't lie to me, Ya’Mya." The way he said my name, slow and deliberate, made something clench low in my belly. "You not good at it."
"Nigga, fuck you," I said, trying to sound tough even though I felt anything but.
"You want to." He said it so casually, like he was commenting on the weather. "That's why you over here instead of sitting on Rah's lap where you supposed to be."
"I came to use the bathroom, not get harassed by yo’ rude ass."
"Harassed?" He cocked his head to the side, with a cocky smirk still playing on his lips. "Nah, ma. You like this shit. You like that I ain't kissing your ass like Rah do. You like that I'm bold enough to say what every nigga in here thinking but too pussy to say."
"You cocky as hell," I said, turning back around to face the line.
My face felt hot. "And disrespectful."
"And you wet."
I whipped back around, my eyes wide. "What?"
"You heard me." He looked me dead in my eyes, no shame at all. "That lil’ attitude you throwing at me, it’s because you frustrated. You want me to shut the fuck up, but you also want me to keep talking. You want me to leave you alone, but you also want me to do the opposite."
"You don't know shit about what I want," I hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention to us.
"Then tell me I'm wrong." He stepped closer, so close now that if I took a step back, I'd be pressed against his chest. "Look me in my eyes and tell me you don't want me to fuck you. Do that, and I'll leave you alone. I promise."
I opened my mouth to do exactly that, But the words wouldn't come out. Because I couldn't lie.
"That's what I thought," he said, reading my silence for exactly what it was.
The line moved again, and finally it was my turn. I pushed open the bathroom door, grateful for the escape. But before I could close it behind me, Trigg slipped in after me.
"What the fuck—" I started, but he cut me off by turning and locking the door behind him.
"Trigg, get out," I said, my back against the far wall now. "You tripping."
"You think so?" He moved toward me, slow and predatory, and I had nowhere to go. "Or am I right where you want a nigga to be. You could've done anything ma, you could’ve screamed, pushed me out, or even tried to fight a nigga, but you in here talking to me."
He was right in front of me now, so close I could see the gold flecks in his dark brown eyes, a bitch could count his eyelashes if I wanted to.
"This shit is messy," I said, but my voice was shaking. "Rah is your friend."
"And?" He braced one hand on the wall beside my head, leaning in. "What me and you do ain't got shit to do with him. Not unless you tell him."
"I should."
"But you won't." He said it like a fact, not a question. "Because you wanna fuck with me, just as much as I wanna fuck with chu’,” His hand moved to my hip, with his fingers digging into the fabric of my dress. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear.
"I know you wanna feel this dick too,” he whispered, his voice so low it was almost a growl. "I been knowing it since you walked in tonight, looking like that. Got me hard as hell watching you, you out here playin’ with another nigga when I know you should be mine.”
"We not even…he not my man," I said, and I hated how weak I sounded.
"I know." His other hand slid up my thigh, pushing my dress up as he went. "That's what make this shit easy. You ain't cheating on that nigga. You just... exploring your options."
"Trigg—" I tried, but my voice broke.
"Shh." His fingers found the edge of my panties. "I ain't gon' fuck you tonight. That ain't how I want you the first time. But I'ma give you a taste. Let you know what you could have when you ready to stop fuckin’ around,” His fingers slipped beneath the lace and found my clit, and I gasped, my hands flying up to grip his shoulders. This was wrong. But when his fingers started moving in slow, deliberate circles, all thoughts of stopping disappeared.
"Fuck," I breathed, my head falling back against the wall.
"That's right," he murmured against my neck. "Talk to me Ya’mya," They way he said my name, and how he worked my clit with an expertise that made my knees weak. He was alternating between soft and hard, slow and fast, like he knew exactly what he was doing. My breathing got heavier, little gasps and moans escaping while I tried my hardest to be as quiet as I could.