Free King's Pleasure by Adrianne Byrd Page A

trying to figure out what the hell happened.”
    “Well, first off, does this Baby Girl happen to have a real name?” At his cousin’s silence, Quentin pulled his eyes from off the road to catch the embarrassed look ripple across Jeremy’s face. “Ah, playa, please tell me you didn’t just get played.”
    Jeremy turned defensive. “She said that she didn’t want to exchange names.”
    “Why? Is she in the Secret Service or something? Is the Navy SEALs looking for her ass?”
    “Nah. I mean, I don’t think so.” He struggled with the possibility of having been played. “Look. You had to have been there. The no names just added to the whole mystique. It was hot.”
    “Uh-huh,” Q shook his head and then turned his attention back to the road. “Well, while you were burning up the sheets in somebody else’s crib, did you at least remember to wrap it up?”
    Jeremy blanched.
    “Aww, nah. Playa, are you for real?”
    “What are you, hood now?”
    “Are you stupid now?” Q counterattacked. “You’re out drilling in mysterious and nameless pussy and you didn’t even bother to protect yourself? Cuz, just hand over your black book and playa card. You’re out here making it dangerous for everybody.” He suddenly swerved over three lanes to make the next exit.
    “Hey, where are you going?”
    “Taking you to the nearest clinic. You definitely need to get yourself checked out before I let you out back on the streets.”
    “Man, I used condoms. It’s just that one of them broke near the end.”
    Quentin eyeballed him dubiously. “Broke? What the hell were you doing?”
    “Uh, none of your damn business, cuz. I done told you that your old-school moves can’t keep up.”
    “Junior, stop all that noise. All you toddlers out here think y’all invented sex. How in the hell do you think y’all got here? Plus, I’m not that much older than you.”
    Jeremy smirked because age jokes always got under Quentin’s skin.
    “Anyway, a real professional playa’s condoms don’t break.”
    “Look, just because you got all that extra room in your condoms, don’t be hatin’ on us snug-fit brothas. Hell, I hear some chicks think that nice things come in small packages.”
    “You’re not funny.”
    Jeremy’s laugh deepened and then rumbled the rest of the way to The Dollhouse.
    “Get the hell up out of my car,” Q barked, throwing the car into Park and then exiting the vehicle in almost the same fluid motion.
    “C’mon, Quentin,” Jeremy continued laughing as he climbed out of the car. “You know I got nothing but love for you, baby.”
    Quentin tossed up his middle finger while he strolled faster toward the back door, where he quickly produced a key and jetted inside.
    Jeremy just barely caught the door before it slammed shut in his face. “Aww. Did I hurt somebody’s itty-bitty feelings?”
    “There you are, Jeremy,” said Thomas, the club’s head chef, glancing up from his inventory accounting. “We’ve been wondering where you’ve been.” His expression twisted. “What the hell happened to your face?”
    “Everybody, meet the Naked Malibu Burglar—fresh outta the joint!” Quentin barked bitterly.
    Jeremy’s jaw dropped open as he chased after his cousin. “Yo, man. You don’t broadcast something like that in a place of business. Like I said, the whole thing is just a misunderstanding.” He puffed up his chest
    Q stopped in the middle of the main club. “Yeah. Let me make sure I got this straight. Your imaginary future baby momma broke you two into a house, sexed you up, scrammed and then left you in a trashed bedroom where you then got up and paraded around naked until Malibu Barbie started screaming her head off and a sumo wrestler raced in and knocked you unconscious before calling the police. Did I get all of that straight?”
    Jeremy blinked. “Well…I admit that it sounds a bit far-fetched when you say it like that.”
    “Then how would you like for me to say it?” Quentin folded