Free The Pleasure Trap by Niobia Bryant

to step back from the edge of being so close to sex.
    If she was worrying about the harm his finger would do, then he knew there was no way he was slipping his dick in her.
    Not tonight, anyway.

Chapter 6
    Geneva
    G raham stepped out of the shower, not bothering with a towel as he enjoyed the feel of the air against his damp skin. Leaving his en suite bathroom, he crossed his bedroom to stand before the full-length mirror on the back of his closet door. Because of his height he could only see from just below his shoulders to his feet. He stared at his reflection as he flexed and posed, enjoying the definition of his chest, arms, and abdomen. He was lean but still strong. “Just need to bulk up,” he said, boxing the air with his fists.
    He turned his body and eyed his upper arm. First the left. Then the right. “I need a tat,” he said, slapping and rubbing his shoulder. “A panther or some shit.”
    Moving over to flop on his back on his made bed, he picked up his cell and dialed Marco, his friend from back in Brooklyn. “Whaddup, dude,” he said as soon as he answered.
    â€œWhat’s up with you?”
    â€œI need a tattoo. Who you recommend?” Graham asked.
    â€œNobody out there in White-ville,” he said, sounding sarcastic.
    â€œYou funny.”
    Marco laughed. “There’s this female that is bad ass. She did the tattoo on my neck.”
    â€œYour neck?” Graham balked, sitting up on the bed.
    â€œThat’s right. Thug life. Pow-pow.”
    Graham just laughed. “Is this another thug-life fool or is she in a shop, ’cause I ain’t about that disease life.”
    â€œIn a shop,” Marco said. “Bring your ass to Brooklyn. I’ll take you to her . . . and introduce you to somebody that’ll make you forget the church girl.”
    Graham’s eyes shifted over to the picture of Geneva sitting on his nightstand table. She’d given it to him in a frame with love quotes inscribed on it. “I doubt that,” he said.
    â€œWe’ll see,” Marco countered. “When you getting in the city?”
    â€œShit, I’m on the way,” he said. “You home?”
    â€œI will be.”
    â€œA’ight.” Graham snapped the phone shut and dropped it on the bed, but then immediately picked it back up.
    Smiling, he texted Geneva: Touch your pussy .
    Graham lay there tapping the phone against his chest as he waited. It took all of a minute.
    Bzzzzzz . . .
    He flipped the phone open and accessed the incoming text.
    I CANT. AT DINNER WITH THE PARENTS.
    SOON AS I GET HOME. OK?
    Graham tossed his phone aside and got up off the bed to enter his walk-in closet. “This shit getting old as fuck,” he muttered.
    Geneva was sweet-spirited. Loving. Kind.
    Geneva was pretty, curvy, and sexy without even trying.
    Geneva was someone he had truly come to love.
    But Geneva’s virginal ass was holding on to her purity.
    In the two weeks since the night on the floor downstairs in the den, Graham had slowly groomed her into more sexual adventures. Nipple sucking. Clit stroking. Blow jobs. Nevertheless, she was not having his dick anywhere near where it truly mattered.
    He was thankful for the climaxes, but nothing compared to the feel of sexing a woman. Being inside her. Riding inside her. Feeling her cum against the dick as it was deep inside her.
    Pussy made his world go ’round, and right now he was in one helluva a rut.
    Graham’s movements were nothing but angry jerks as he swiped on deodorant, sprayed Polo cologne over his body, and put on his clothes. “What type of crazy fool has his grown-ass daughter checked to make sure she ain’t fucking?” he stooped to ask his reflection. “A sick, twisted fool. That’s who.”
    Grabbing his keys and his cell phone, he didn’t bother to grab a blunt because Marco would have plenty when he got to Brooklyn. Plenty of weed and available,