“You drink a lot,” she noted. Her eyes tracked me over the top of her phone.
“You pay too much attention to me.”
“What are you trying to drown, Freeman?” Her voice was a soft purr. She reminded me of a rambunctious, curious kitten that couldn’t stop getting into trouble.
“Let’s look at your income versus your expenses first.” I moved back to my desk and picked up her phone to look at the figures she’d put down. I learned that if I ignored Miss Lucas consistently enough, she’d let go.
I was right. Eventually, the fact that she wanted to work on her budget outweighed her need to push my buttons.
After an hour, a frown had made itself at home between Xari’s sculpted brows. “I need more money,” she said.
“Yeah. Your paycheck from working for me still isn’t enough to cover your credit card bills. You need to cut it down to maybe three at the most. You have ten cards, Miss Lucas.”
“Well, I’m not getting rid of my Starbucks card or my Neiman’s card.” She rubbed her temples and blew out a puff of air.
“Keep a low-interest rewards card, a standard Visa card, and a Capital One card. Your credit score isn’t bad thanks to your parents helping you out but if you want to handle everything on your own, you’ll have to eliminate most of these cards.”
“This is bullshit.”
“You can do it.” I rubbed her knee and she looked down where my hand touched her. I’d tossed back two more glasses of whiskey and I knew it was only a matter of time before I took my laptop to my room and wrote until I fell asleep.
“Will you help?” She asked. I studied her pretty face and stared at those full lips for a few beats. My mind went crazy with nasty thoughts about all the ways I wanted to taste her.
“I can do that. I’ll give you some homework,” I said, standing and tucking my laptop under my arm. The way she looked up at me with big bright eyes had me dying to wrap my hand around her slender throat and see how long I could choke her before her eyes watered and she begged for more.
“Ooh, homework from the hot professor. I’m down.”
Did she just call me hot?
“Find another source of income. Right now, you’re five hundred dollars in the hole every month. Find a few things to do from home or on the weekends that you think could generate the money you need to bridge the gap.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” She asked, standing to her feet.
“If I told you the answer, it wouldn’t be homework would it?” I winked at her before walking out of the den and hitting the lights.
“Just to be clear, there’s no fucking the hot professor to get an A…right?” My dick stiffened at her words but luckily, she was behind me.
“Absolutely not, Miss Lucas.”
“You were looking at my tits, Freeman. I saw you. I know what hunger looks like.”
“Good for you,” I sighed.
As fine as she was, she was still immature. I couldn’t have fun with her like I could with the other women in my rotation. It would make things at home too awkward. I couldn’t shit and eat in the same place.
“Good night, Freeman.” She paused at Frankie’s door and wiggled her fingers at me. I tipped my head up then let my eyes linger on her face for a while before going into my room.
This book wasn’t going to write itself.
Even though I shouldn’t have, once I was in my room, I stared at the computer screen wondering what Xari was doing. I kept picturing her in those damn silk pajamas and the way they flowed over her breasts and hips…and that ass.
Before I knew it, my main female character, Riley was wearing a pair of silk pajamas while she was stuck under the same roof with her boss.
Xari had gotten into my head. Like being under my skin wasn’t enough. As much as I hated how Riley morphed into Xari, it made the words flow. I wrote 6,000 words over the next three hours. Every single one of them seemed to be fueled by Xari Lucas. She was a song stuck in my head.
…
TLC’s Creep thumped from behind Frankie’s bedroom door. When I opened it and stuck my head in, I saw Xari standing in front of the fan teaching Frankie how to do the choreography from the music video. It was hard to stifle my laugh because my kid lived in a time with Tik Tok. She didn’t have a full appreciation of the ’90s. Honestly, neither did Xari.
“This is all wrong,” I said, shaking my head, stepping further into the room.
“Okay so show us how to do it then, Freeman.” Xari put her hands on her hips and challenged me with a look.
“Oh, I’d pay good money to see you do the Creep dance, Daddy.” Frankie shoved me playfully and lit up the room with her bright laughter.
“Lucky for me, you don’t have any money, kiddo. I’m not blessing either one of y’all with my dance moves.”
“Because you don’t have any.”
“And you do, Miss Lucas? You weren’t even born when this song came out.”
“First of all, the nineties run through my veins. Secondly, I’ve watched this video so much I know it by heart.” She started dancing again and even though Creep was coming through the speakers, Bonita Applebum was running through my mind because Xari moved like a hip-hop beat. Fluid and deep. Rich and persuasive. Hypnotizing.
“Okay, as fun as this is, you need
