Page 42 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy

First time she touched me all night. Her whole body pressed into me, her chin at my shoulder, her hands on my back. I could smell her perfume in her hair.

Honestly, I ain't know what to do with my hands for a second, so I just brought one up and rested it on her back.

She held on for maybe five seconds.

When she pulled back, her hand slid down my arm, and she looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I don't even know if you're a hugger. I just?—"

"You good." My voice came out lower than I meant it to.

She sat back, but she ain't move all the way back to where she was before. Her knee was touching my leg now. She ain't seem to notice, or she noticed and ain't care, and either one was fine with me.

"Enough of that sad shit, love. What's the worst thing a kid ever said to you in that classroom?"

She blinked, then busted out laughing at how hard I switched it. "You just gone change the subject like that?"

"Yeah, I’m smooth like that."

"Okay, Ozy." She shook her head, still smiling. "The worst thing? Okay. I had a little girl look me dead in my face and say, 'Ms. Noree, my mama said you too pretty to not have no husband.'"

I damn near choked. "She ain't say that."

"She did! In front of the whole class! And then another little boy said, 'My daddy said the same thing,' and I had to go in the hallway and gather myself."

I was cracking up. "So, the kids be running they mouth ‘bout you at home."

"They have full conversations about my personal life. Meanwhile, I’m over here like, damn, where the hell is my husband at? Hubby gotta be hiding from me at this point.”

"That's crazy." I refilled her glass without asking this time, and she ain't stop me. "But they were right, though."

She paused with the glass at her lips. "What?"

"Your students." I looked at her. "Youaretoo pretty to not be married.”

She ain't say nothing. Just took her sip real slow, eyes on me the whole time.

"You be saying stuff like this to everybody?" she finally asked.

"Nah."

"Mm-hmm."

"I'm serious. I don't usually be talking this much." She got more comfortable and turned her body toward me, her knee up on the couch. "I ain't gone sit here and lie to you like I'm some choir boy. The women I deal with don’t do a lot of talking.”

She laughed, but her eyes were soft. "So, what's different…about me?"

"You made me tell you what it was before you came in the room."

"Because I wasn't about to let you think you were getting a taste…and I do mean ataste.”

I chuckled and laid my head back on the couch, looking over at her. I licked my lips, then said, “I look like I eat pussy?”

She gave me a look. “You better eat pussy. What you mean? That’s all you be singing about in your songs, and if you don’t, then you’re a fraud, and I’ma snitch.”

“Damn, shawty, not you the feds and shit. You gotta dip.”

“Nope.” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Unless you’re lifting me up yourself, I’m staying sat.”

“Aight, I like that. And see…that's exactly why." I pointed at her with the hand holding my glass. "That's it right there. Your vibe is different.”