Page 16 of Crown: Phase 4

You ain’t ever gotta say please to me. Cut that shit out. I’m coming as soon as I’m done. Send me a pic of what they look like, Ree.

After the last bullet Danger sent through a nigga’s head that day, all he could think about was getting to Caresha. It wasn’t just because she had texted him asking for feminine products, either. Nah. He had already planned on pulling up on her before she ever sent that message.

Danger had been so busy in the streets that he hadn’t laid eyes on her since the night of the reception. Call it whatever you want, but one day without seeing her in person was enough to drive him crazy. The FaceTime calls and texts weren’t enough. He needed to touch her…breathe her.

Looking beautiful as usual to Danger, Caresha opened the door as soon as she heard his knuckles hit the wood.

“He—”

Before she could finish, Danger stepped inside, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her against him. His lips crashed into hers, cutting her off as he kissed her hungrily. He kicked the door shut behind him with his boot, then reached back and locked it with one hand without breaking the kiss. By the time they finally pulled apart, both were hot and breathing a little heavier.

“Hey,” Caresha finally managed to say.

“Sup, ma.”

“Nothing. Just been waiting on you.”

They stood there, gazing at each other, a smile stretching across her face.

“Why you looking at me like that?” Danger asked, breaking the silence.

“Because you’re handsome.”

A grin spread across his face, mirroring hers. “I appreciate that, beautiful. But is that all that’s on your mind?”

Caresha hesitated, breaking eye contact. Danger noticed how she nervously chewed on the corner of her glossy lip. He gently cupped her chin, guiding her to look him in the eyes again.

“Is that all that’s on your mind?” He asked once more.

The simple touch sent an unexplainable wave through Caresha. She slowly shook her head.

“No.”

“Then tell me what else.”

“You’ve been drinking.” She said, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground. She could taste the Hennessy on his tongue.

“I been drinking and smoking. Been shooting niggas all day too. Fuck does that got to do with anything? Don’t change the subject, ma. Tell me.”

“I already told your ass something. You tell me something. Matter of fact, where is my shit?” Caresha searched his hands, but there was no bag in sight.

“I’m not playing with you, Ree.”

Danger stood on business, not allowing her to deflect. His hand slid from her chin to the back of her head, his fingers sinking into the roots of her messy spiral curls, squeezing gently. And as she parted her lips to gasp, he leaned down and kissed her again, slower this time. His grip on her hair loosened, then his hand moved to the small of her back, holding her close. When the kiss finally broke, Caresha rested her forehead against his chest, inhaling his Creed cologne.

“Mmm…I missed you.” She confessed.

The words slipped out before she could catch them, surprising her. She wasn’t that girl. She’d never been the type to sit around missing a nigga. Yet somehow, Danger’s fine, dangerous ass had her counting the days, waiting on phone calls, and standing at the front door before he even knocked because she could hear his bike rumbling outside. She didn’t know when it happened; she just knew it had. He even had her lying, saying she needed things she didn’t.

Sure, Caresha liked her period panties more while chilling at home, but she had tampons stashed in her cabinet to hold her over until she could hit the store the next morning. She only bothered Danger about the panties to see if he’d bring them, and to catch a glimpse of his face. She liked him… like really, really liked him. It felt refreshing. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this way about a guy.

“I missed you, too. Go pack a bag. You coming with me. Yo’ panties downstairs, inside my bike.” Danger gave her a tap on the butt.

Her missing him hadn’t surprised him. He could see it in her eyes. That was why he’d pushed the issue. He wanted to hear her say it, to make sure the feeling was mutual before admitting it himself. Part of him felt like a simp-ass nigga for wanting to say it out loud. This wasn’t him. He usually didn’t stick around long enough with a chick to feel anything beyond pussy. But with Caresha, he had fucked up. She stirred up all kinds of emotions in him.

“What?”

“You heard me. Pack a bag, Ree. Enough shit for about a week.”