Free 420 by Kenya Wright, Jackie Sheats

“Wait.”
    “No,” I groaned and then cleared my throat. “I mean. Okay. I can wait.”
    I raised my hands and backed away, unable to trust myself any closer to her. In the end, if she didn’t want to have sex I’d have to hold my bruised balls and drag myself away from her. Thankfully, I had tons of corners in my penthouse to crouch into and cry in the shadows.
    “What’s wrong?” I kept my hands up.
    “Put your hands down and come over here.” She giggled. “I’m not a cop.”
    “Trust me. You want me over here with my hands up.”
    She laughed.
    I didn’t. My cock was ready to burst through my boxer briefs. Every part of me ran numb. Blood pulsed hot through my veins and mingled with a serious adrenaline rush that probably heightened due to the excellent joint that I’d rolled.
    “For some reason right now, having my hands up is keeping me focused.”
    “We should talk about something, if we are going to have sex.”
    My words came out in a weak whine. “If we are?”
    She covered her mouth, but couldn’t keep in the laughter. “You’re hilarious.”
    I cringed. “That’s me, Wolf the funny guy. What do we need to talk about?”
    “If we have sex, then you’re not going to be my mentor,” she said. “I don’t do business and pleasure.”
    “No.” I put my hands down and prowled toward her. “I want you and your art . I need both. And you deserve the best chances to get your visions out there. I can give you resources in the street art game that no one else can.”
    She covered her breasts with her arms. “But—”
    A dark growl lodged in my throat. It worked hard to keep my madness at bay. “What?”
    “I don’t mix business with pleasure,” she said again. “If we have sex, then that’s it. It’s sex. We don’t paint together.”
    Why do women always have to be so goddamn complicated? Is this what real women do, talk about stuff before sex?
    Clenching my jaw I ran my fingers through my hair. “Red—”
    “I just don’t want to be Wolf’s sex thing, and only known because of that.”
    I sighed. “You won’t be.”
    “People will see it that way.”
    My voice rose a little higher than I wanted. “No one knows who I am.”
    “I know.”
    “No one would know that we had sex.”
    “I would.”
    “You’re being ridiculous,” I argued.
    “Pick one, mentoring me or sex, but you can’t have both.”
    I can’t have both? I don’t like this.
    I rubbed my face with both hands. A whine escaped my lips. I should’ve been embarrassed when she giggled in front of me, but I wasn’t.
    Decisions. Decisions.
    With only my boxer briefs covering a very hard dick, I paced in front of her. “Let’s make love now, and then discuss this further tomorrow.”
    “Make love? This is sex.”
    “It’s more, Red.”
    “No, it’s not. I just met you.”
    “I didn’t. I’ve been watching you for weeks.”
    “That’s not really turning me on right now.”
    “It should.”
    “It doesn’t.”
    “You know that most women would be happy to have sex with me and receive my mentoring.”
    “I think most of your women have not had the bad experience of defecating where they consume food.”
    “So you don’t shit where you eat. Great.” I ceased with pacing, licked my lips, and gazed at her. “Do you have any idea how bad I want you? How many nights I’ve thought about you? How many days I imagined us doing what we did tonight, painting together? No, I’m not in love with you, but I’m fascinated. And couldn’t fascination breed love? Couldn’t obsession trigger something more?”
    She opened her mouth and then a few seconds later, she laughed. “I think we’re both too high for this conversation.”
    “Maybe we are.” I charged for her. “So let’s stop talking about it.”
    She shrieked, but didn’t run.
    “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” I took her into my arms, those soft breasts pressed against my chest, and I came undone, right there, my cock