Page 102 of Tito

He met my gaze. “Promise you won’t tell her I told you?”

“I won’t say a word.”

His eyes darted around the store. After locating Reggie, an exaggerated sigh escaped him. “I’m such an awful friend when it comes to keeping secrets,” he said, meeting my gaze. “I keep them about as well as Tristan Thompson keeps his penis in his pants.”

“Who?”

He looked at me like he’d caught me fucking his cat. “Khloe Kardashians whore of an ex,” he exclaimed. “Hell-o.”

“Cheated with her sister’s best friend. Sorry, I didn’t recognize the name.” I stole a look in Reggie’s direction. She was flipping through a rack of shirts while a college-age girl waited impatiently. I looked at Raymond. “Back to the secret you can’t keep. Spill it, Brother.”

He glanced left and then right before cupping his hand over the side of his mouth. Filled with giddy excitement, he leaned forward.

“Come here,” he whispered.

I laughed to myself at his theatrics. Excited for his revelation, I closed the gap between us. “Let’s hear it.”

“While you were sleeping last night, Miss Reggie rode you like a rented scooter,” he whispered. He leaned away. “Those are her words, not mine.”

I gave him a look. “What?”

“She gave you a blowie while you were snoring away,” he whispered. “Then, she used you for her sexual gratification.” He nodded toward my crotch. “So, if you feel an uncanny desire to relieve yourself, don’t be surprised. I’m sure the buildup is horrendous. She said it was quite the event.”

I gave him a look of disbelief. “She fucked me while I was asleep?”

He raised his extended index finger to his pursed lips. “Shhh.” He scowled. “Don’t let her hear you.”

“There’s no way she fucked me without waking me up,” I insisted. “I’m a light sleeper.”

He gave me a sideways look. “Reggie’s got her faults, but she’s not a liar.”

“Seriously?” I asked, still not quite believing it. “She fucked me while I was asleep?”

He nodded like he witnessed the event himself. “She rode that big dick of yours like a stolen bicycle.”

I laughed at the thought of her accomplishment. “Can I joke about it with her? As long as I don’t ever tell her you told me?”

“Like how?” he asked, looking me up and down. “Give me an example.”

“Jokingly,” I replied. “Like, saying something about my aching balls. I don’t know, just joking around about it.”

“As long as you don’t tell her,” he said. “I swore I wouldn’t tell. If she finds out, she’ll just die.”

“You said you can’t keep secrets. Surely she’s aware.”

“She is,” he admitted. “But, one of these days she’s going to stop telling me anything if she keeps finding out that I can’t even last until lunch break without telling someone.”

“I won’t do anything to compromise our secret,” I said.

He smiled. “You’re a sweetheart.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said.

“Well, I do.” He raised his recently waxed eyebrows. “I saw the Copte Passementeries.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. “The what?”

“The little yellow sandals,” he said. “They’re adorable, by the way.”