Free Hittin' It Out the Park by Allison Hobbs Page A

someone from the streets—not someone from a well-educated and prominent family. How long is this going to go on? Your continual shameful behavior has broken your father’s heart and it’s left me utterly mortified. What kind of future can you possibly have if you don’t finish your education?” Clarissa began to cry, emitting little sniffles and murmurs of anguish.
    Growing bored with the conversation, Sexy said the words she knew her mother wanted to hear. “I’m not stupid, Mom. I know I need to finish school, and I plan to. But I need to have a fun summer before I allow myself to be shipped off to that snippy school in London.”
    â€œIt’s for your own good.”
    â€œI know,” Sexy grudgingly admitted.
    â€œBefore I transfer the money back into your account, you have to promise that you’ll keep up your end of the bargain.”
    â€œI promise to check in at least once a week.”
    After groveling on the phone, pleading for money like a common beggar, Sexy needed more than food. She needed a couple new outfits to make her feel better. One of her booster friends—a chick named Brianne—had a few Prada pieces that she wanted Sexy to check out. Sexy was an unapologetic clothes whore and now that she no longer had access to her parents’ credit cards, she had to get her designer wear the best way she could. Needing cash to pay Brianne for her stolen goods, Sexy trekked to the nearest ATM.
    A man stood at the machine making a transaction and Sexy stepped back a few feet, giving him privacy. From behind, she admired his broad shoulders beneath his jacket. And his firm ass looked hot in his sweat pants.
    He has a nice body, but I bet his face is ugly as sin.
    Standing out in the open on the pavement, her very presence once again began to cause a commotion, attracting lots of attention. Horny male passersby appraised her leeringly, and rubbernecking motorists, unable to keep their eyes on the road, had to slam on their brakes to keep from rear-ending the car in front of them.
    Sexy shrugged. It wasn’t her fault that she had it like that.
    When the guy at the ATM turned around, Sexy drew in a long breath. Not only was his body hot; his face was cute as shit. Playing coy, she glanced at her phone and pretended not to notice him.
    â€œHey, lovely lady; what’s good?”
    â€œAin’t shit,” she responded nonchalantly.
    He looked her up and down. Stroking his chin, he smiled approvingly. “What are you about to get into?”
    â€œI was about to withdraw some cash and take myself out to lunch.”
    â€œNo need to touch your funds. Why don’t you let me treat you to a meal?”
    â€œI don’t even know you,” she said with her top lip turned up, pretending to be offended.
    â€œAllow me to introduce myself. I’m Yusef Rawls.” He said his name with emphasis, as if it should ring a bell, which it didn’t.
    â€œHey, Yusef; my name’s Sexy Sanchez.” She watched him closely, eager to see his reaction to the alias she’d given herself after leaving her family and striking out on her own.
    â€œSexy, huh?”
    She nodded and smiled seductively.
    â€œDamn, baby. Sexy, you are!” Laughing, he gestured to the shiny Jaguar that was parked at the curb. “My chariot awaits you.”
    *  *  *
    Sexy would have been satisfied going to Five Guys for a burger, but wanting to impress her, Yusef took her to a fancy restaurant—the kind with folded linen napkins, polished silver, and white tablecloths. She had suffered through far too many brunches, lunches, and dinners with her pretentious mother in upscale places such as this, and she was extremely disappointed.
    Unbeknownst to Yusef, he’d lost a point for bringing Sexy to an establishment that reminded her of the so-called privileged life she’d escaped from and was trying to forget.
    The maître d’ greeted them and