Free Pointe of No Return: Giving You All I Got by Nako Page B

what could be so hard about touching his penis?  She knew it couldn’t be much to it, but to do it.
    “Stop,” Papa told her, pulling her hand back to where it was in the safe zone.
    “Why?” She cornered him for an answer.
    “Because you not ready for that,” he said quickly.
    “But I want it, Papa.”
    Papa wasn’t listening to shit she was saying. He wouldn’t be blessing her with the dick tonight. He was high and chilling and young Demi needed to get with the program.
    “How many girls do you talk to?” she finally asked him. The silence they laid in was killing her.
    Papa pulled on his blunt before reaching up to dip it in the ashtray, which caused Demi to have to get up.
    “Why does that matter if I’m here with you right now?” he asked her.
    “Don’t give me that here in the moment crap.”
    Papa laughed. Demi had got him with that one.
    “I’m serious,” she told him.
    “I don’t talk to nobody, for real,” he answered.
    “But why?” she asked.
    “What you mean why?” He hoped this didn’t turn into an argument. The vibe was perfect and he wanted it to stay that way. “I just don’t. I’m focused.”
    Demi wished there was more light in the room. She wanted to see his eyes, read his facial expressions, and study his body gestures.
    “So, what are we doing if you’re so focused?” Demi threw air quotations around focused.
    Papa asked, “Ain’t you focused too, don’t you start school soon?”
    Demi told him, “yes.”
    “Alright then, so we are both hustling right now.”
    Demi wouldn’t correct him, although she definitely wasn’t hustling. She kept her mouth shut and lay back down. Papa strummed her spine with his fingers.
    “It’s worth the wait,” she whispered.
    Papa nodded. “Oh trust me, Demi, I know.”
    He would capture her heart and her pussy right when she least expected it, and once Demi became his, well, that’s all there was to it.

5
    “Is that shit supposed to look like that?” Papa stared at Demi’s big toe.
    Demi pulled her foot back. She was so embarrassed and wanted Papa to get out of her face. Demi had an intense practice. No, intense wasn’t the best word to use. She had an “I’m going to kill myself” kind of practice. She felt like her mother was punishing her for being away from home so much. All week Dorane had been barging in Demi’s bedroom without knocking and waking her up way before dawn to stretch and run. Demi felt like she was being hazed. Her mother barked at her during her practices and constantly talked down on her.
    You’re lazy Demi, jump up! You must want to be in the back of the line.
    I would never make that move; you’re horrible.
    Demi keep your head up while you leap, are you stupid?
    Demi
    Demi
    Demi
    Demi was beyond tired of hearing her name being called. As soon as her practice came to an end, she stormed out of the studio, not bothering to go in the house and get her cell phone or take a bath. She hopped in her car and since she normally left the keys in the cup holder, she peeled off in less than five minutes.
    She went by Papa’s uncle’s house, but he wasn’t there so she made her way to his loft. Demi parked her car in the guest lot and took the steps to his unit. Already being familiar with the codes and such, Demi granted her own access into the loft. She was too scared to go up the steps and tell Papa she was there so she pulled out a blanket, one of the few things she purchased for the time she spent at Papa’s house, out of the linen closet and crashed on the couch.
    Demi was now wide awake and fresh out of Papa’s shower and here he was staring at her bloody toe.
    “Papa,” she said, in an irritated tone.
    He ignored her and pulled her foot back to his lap and played with the dried blood around her toe.
    “Ouch!” She winced in pain.
    “What happens when you get old? Are you gon’ be able to wear sandals? Your feet getting ugly and you only eighteen,” he said.
    Normally, Demi would have been