Free The Pleasure Trap by Niobia Bryant Page B

the street. He didn’t give a damn. He was just enjoying the show. He turned his head to watch them walk away until they disappeared from his sight as they descended the stairs to the entrance of the subway.
    A yellow cab finally pulled to a stop beside them.
    â€œYo, Marco, I’m gonna head home,” Graham said, already reaching in his wallet for his MetroCard.
    Marco paused in his move to climb inside the rear of the taxi. “Word?”
    â€œYeah,” he said over his shoulder, running the short distance to descend the stairs and pay his fare. He had just reached the platform when he spotted Lola and The Stud getting on the train headed for Grand Central Terminal. Not wanting to miss it, he jumped on another car and then made his way through the crowd to their car.
    Lola spotted him first and nudged The Stud where they sat seated in the corner.
    He saw them whispering to each other as they stared at him. He didn’t stop until he was leaning his back against the pole in front of them.
    â€œYo, the show’s over,” The Stud said, her face almost as pretty as Lola’s but her clothes, flat chest, and low fade those of a man.
    â€œYou sure?” Graham countered cockily. “I felt like I was part of the show for y’all and I didn’t want to mess it up.”
    They drew the curious stares of several train riders.
    The Stud moved to stand up but Lola placed her rose-tattooed hand against her thigh to stop her. “Trust me, we don’t need anything you got to get off,” Lola said, pulling a cell phone from inside her bustier and looking down at it as she quickly swiped it with her thumb.
    â€œDon’t knock it ’til you try it,” he said.
    Lola licked her lips and cut her slanted eyes up at him. With her height, she barely reached his chest. She turned her phone and lifted it up to his face. “If you can’t compete with that, then step off,” she said.
    In the picture The Stud was wearing a strap-on that looked as big and brown as a small tree trunk.
    â€œDon’t mess with that, brah,” some man said from behind him before the people around them started to laugh.
    Graham knew he had a big dick, but this was offensive in its size. Offensive and unreal.
    â€œThe only thing I got for you is some bad-ass tats,” Lola said in her husky voice. “We good?”
    Graham shrugged and smiled. “We good,” he asserted.
    Lola reclaimed her seat and The Stud lifted her leg to cross it over Lola’s.
    Graham lifted his hand and scratched his scalp through his skully. It was dry, and that reminded him of how Geneva would sit him on the floor between her legs to grease and massage his scalp with coconut oil. That was the kind of girl she was, and he couldn’t deny that he really cared about her.
    He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and was disappointed that Geneva hadn’t called or texted him back. He started to call her but snapped the phone shut as the train came to a stop. He figured a night without speaking to him should rattle her.
    Lola and her girl stood up.
    â€œHolla at me about getting them dreads together,” said The Stud, passing him a business card before she followed Lola off the train.
    Graham dropped down into one of their vacated seats and eyed the card. The Stud’s name was Kezia, and she was a beautician specializing in natural hair. Shrugging, he slid the card into the pocket of his vest and eyed his phone again as the train pulled to a stop in Grand Central Terminal.
    He jumped a little in surprise as the phone suddenly vibrated in his hand. Geneva’s phone number appeared on the screen. He sent it to voice mail. Geneva was drawing him in when there was no hope for them. He thought by now he would’ve had her in love with his dick, but her fear of her father outweighed her love for him.
    Bzzzz . . .
    A voice mail.
    He opened it and smirked at her detailing how she was touching herself