Gunz and Roses (12 page)

“You so corny.” Gunz laughed.

“Whateva. You like the idea.” Gray giggled.

“Ay?”

“What's up?”

“Why wouldn't you let me get you anything while we were out?” He wanted to know.

“I didn't need anything. Besides, spending time with you is enough for me.”

“Remember you said that.” He laughed.

“Don't get it twisted. I won't say no next time.” She laughed too. “Why have you been so quiet? You haven't said a word since we got back.”

“I just got a lot of shit on my mind, man.”

“Talk to me.”

Gunz wondered if he should open up about his father's unexpected appearance back in his life or deal with it on his own. Opening up about his feelings was something he didn't do often, especially with a woman, but with Gray, he felt a sense of comfort.

“When I was ten, my old dude burnt out on me, my mom, and my sister. He was on drugs and shit. You know, when I was younger, it really fucked me up that he would do that. And for a long time, I wished he'd come back and we'd be like we was, but . . . my li'l sister ended up passing—”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Gray cut him off.

“It's cool.” He looked down at the water.

“How'd she die?”

“She drowned in a pool.”

“Oh my God. How old was she?”

“Six.”

“Gunz, I am so sorry.” She wrapped her arms around him tight.

“Yeah . . .” He stared off into space. “Shit was crazy, but the most fucked-up part about it was . . . you know . . . my peoples got word to my old dude that Adriana had died, and you know this muthafucka didn't even give a fuck. He ain't even come to the funeral to see his own baby girl off.”

“Wow.” Gray shook her head.

“After that I wrote that nigga off. I ain't want to have shit to do wit' him. Now twenty years later this muthafucka wanna come play daddy.”

“You've seen him? You talked to him?”

“Yeah. Remember that day I came by the store and hollered at you?”

“Yeah.”

“That day him and my old bird ambushed me on some forgive and forget, let's be a family bullshit. Supposedly he's clean.”

“How did you feel?”

“I was pissed off. I couldn't believe my mama would do some shit like that. She knows all the heartache we went through behind that man.”

“The question is, do you want to have a relationship with him?”

“No. I'm grown. There ain't shit that nigga can do for me now.”

“The only thing I can say, Gunz, is that . . . everybody goes through stuff in life, and along the way, their choices may hurt people. But it's up to that person to decide whether or not they want to right their wrongs. And that's what it sounds like your father is trying to do.”

“I don't know.” He situated himself, slightly agitated.

“I mean, it's up to you. You have to search through all the pain and abandonment issues and see if you can open your heart and accept him in your life again. I know that it's a huge decision . . . so I suggest you take your time while making it. 'Cause I know how you feel.

“I don't even know who my father is, but I do know that if he were to come in my life today or tomorrow, I would want to talk to him, so I could get to see who he is as a person and whether or not we have the same characteristics, or better yet, a chance at even building some kind of relationship.”

“I hear what you sayin', man, and that sounds good on paper, but after all the bullshit my old man has put me through, I don't know if I can do it.”

“Well, like I said, just think about it.” Gray stared at the side of his face then kissed his cheek. She prayed that one day soon Gunz would be able to let down his guard and let people into his life. If he didn't, she knew they didn't have a chance in hell for any kind of future together.

 

After talking some more, the two washed each other's bodies then got out of the tub and began to get dressed. Since they were going to a Latin restaurant, Gray decided to wear an ultra sexy asymmetrical red mini dress by Rachel Pally. One side of the dress had a long, flowing sleeve, while the other side was completely sleeveless. Gray didn't even rock a lot of jewelry. A pair of oversized rusted bronze earrings and two matching bracelets was all she needed. To finish off the look, she rocked a pair of edgy, zebra print, four and a half-inch Manolo Blahnik peep-toe heels.

Gunz didn't look too shabby himself. He sported a gray T-shirt with gold writing, a gray pinstriped vest, jeans, and gold Lanvin high top sneakers. A thin gold rosary and Patek Philippe watch was all the jewelry he donned.

Rumba was one of Gunz's favorite restaurants. Every time he stopped in Chicago, he made it his business to visit. He was almost sure Gray would grow to love it as much he did.

As soon as she entered, she felt as if she'd been swept off to a 1940s super club. The sounds coming from the live entertainment instantly made her want to dance. The opulent entranceway provided an unobstructed view to the bar, main dining room, as well as the entertainment focal point, the stage. Over to the side was the dance floor.

Oversized tufted red conga booths, floor to ceiling curtains, authentic Moroccan antique lamps, Spanish wall sconces, and white linen tablecloths with candles gave the place a sensual vibe. The smell of authentic Latin cuisine intoxicated her nose.

Gray and Gunz took a seat right next to the dance floor.

“So what you think?” he asked.

“I love it. Like, I wish there were more places like this back in St. Louis.”

“Me too,” Gunz replied, opening up his menu. “So you really have never had Latin food before?”

“No, growing up all I ate was Korean food. I didn't get my first taste of soul food until I met my friend Kema.”

“You gon' have to hip me to some Korean food. All I know is a whole order of special fried rice with no onions, and crab Rangoon.”

“You silly.” Gray laughed. “That is not Korean food. That's some shit Chinese people made up for y'all to eat.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, we don't eat that shit. We eat plain fuckin' rice.”

“Fuck naw.”

“So what do you suggest I order? I don't really like spicy food, so anything besides that is good.”

“Well, jerk chicken is out of the question then. Do you like seafood?”

“I love seafood.”

“Well, I suggest you get the coconut plantain-encrusted sea bass.”

“That sounds wonderful. What are you gonna get?”

“I'm gettin' the muthafuckin' Caribbean seafood parrillada.”

“What's that?”

“It's a lobster tail with shrimp, scallops, tilapia, and calamari grilled in a garlic lemon butter sauce. A jalapeño corn cake and tostones al mojo come with it.”

“Your food sounds good.”

“You just don't know. I love this place, man.”

Once their orders were placed, Gray and Gunz sipped on Merlot and bobbed their head to the band's rendition of Hector Lavoe's “El Cantante.”

“You lookin' kinda good in that dress, ma.” He leaned forward and admired her breasts with lust in his eyes.

“Thanks.” Gray blushed, sipping on her drink.

“You know I'm pretty happy you decided to come wit' me.”

“I'm pretty happy I decided to come too.”

“You really like me, don't you?”

“What?” She giggled, almost choking.

“Admit it. You do.”

“You cool.”

“I know I'm cool. Shit, I'm the coolest nigga you know. I asked if you liked me.”

“Why? Is me liking you gon' change anything?”

“Who knows . . . it might.” He chuckled.

“Whateva.” Gray threw her napkin in his face, laughing.

“For real, you do?”

“It's obvious that I like you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here. The question is, how much do you like me?”

“Here are your meals,” the waitress announced.

“Saved by the bell,” Gunz replied as she placed his plate in front of him.

“That's some bullshit.” Gray pursed her lips together and shook her head. She hated that he'd gotten off easy.

“Will there be anything else?”

“No, thanks,” they both spoke in unison.

“This looks delicious.” Gray placed her napkin on her lap, starving.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

“What?”

“Just trust me. Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

Gray looked at Gunz suspiciously then did what she was told and closed her eyes. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth. Gunz, using his fingers, picked up a plantain and placed it into her mouth. A cornucopia of delectable sweetness exploded into her mouth. The taste of the sugary plantain and the saltiness from Gunz's fingers took her to forbidden heights of pleasure. She relished the taste of him in her mouth. As his index finger slipped from her lips, Gray made it her business to flick her tongue against the tip. Gunz's penis sprang to attention at the thought of his finger being his dick.

“That was nice. Thank you,” she spoke in a low, raspy tone.

“You welcome.”

“So tell me, where do you see yourself in five years?”

“Hopefully out of the game. I never really planned on doing this the rest of my life. My plans are to open up a couple of restaurants and art galleries.”

“You like art?”

“Yeah, I mean, that's something a lot of people don't know about me, but over the past couple of years, I've bought a couple of nice pieces.”

“Wow.” Gray gave him a warm smile. “I would've never guessed that about you.”

“It's a lot about me you don't know, Gray.”

“But that's the point. If given the chance, I wanna know everything there is to know about you.”

“Who knows? You keep it up, you just might.”

A half an hour later, Gunz and Gray were full. Gray enjoyed every bite. Normally she would've been afraid to eat in front of a man, but Gunz made her feel comfortable. For the first time, she could be herself with a man.

Gunz, too, was enjoying himself. If he did want a woman, Gray would be the perfect candidate. He was digging everything about her, from her style to the way she smiled. More than anything, he loved the way she moved. He could see her grooving in her seat.

“Get up and do your thing, ma,” he suggested.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, go 'head.”

The smell of mouthwatering food, smoke, and sweat filled the air as Gray made her way to the dance floor. Shakira's megahit “La Tortura” had everyone up on their feet. Bodies were plastered together, but none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was the music.

Gray loved to dance, so she quickly got into the groove. She could see Gunz out of the corner of her eye, staring her down. The whole scenario reminded her of when they first met.

Turned on, she connected eyes with him and began doing her thing. She knew he enjoyed watching her put on a show. Bending over, Gray bit her lower lip and wound her hips slowly clockwise to the beat. The entire time, she envisioned his firm hands caressing her thighs.

Gunz's dick was brick hard. The way Gray shook her ass mesmerized him to the point it threw him off track. Here he was, trying to be hard and keep his composure, but a bead of sweat had begun to form on his forehead. Gray wasn't fighting fair and she knew it. The look in her alluring blue eyes said it all. She wanted to make love until she begged God for mercy. Wanting a better view, Gunz lit up a Djarum clove cigarette and leaned forward.

The band must have read Gray's mind because her jam by Shakira, “Hips Don't Lie,” started to thump. A wicked grin traced the corners of her mouth. The dim lighting melted all of her inhibitions away. The heat coming from the beat caused her to grind even harder. Gray was tired of playing games. She was starting to wonder if she was too much for Gunz. Kissing and hugging was cool, but there was so much more a man and a woman could do. Gray wanted Gunz to put it on her in the worst way. Every part of her could be his, but it was up to him to take it.

Running her hands across her breasts, Gray stared Gunz dead in the eye and sang, “And I'm staritng to feel it's right . . . All the attraction, the tension . . . don't you see baby, this is perfection.”

Far from being a punk, Gunz took one more puff from his cigarette then mashed the rest in the ashtray. It was time for him to step to Gray like the man he was. Face to face, he took her by the hand and kissed her passionately. Neither one of them had ever enjoyed someone's company so much. They laughed, they drank, they ate, and before they knew it, the lights were coming on and the restaurant was closing.

The ride back to the hotel seemed to take forever. Gunz couldn't keep his hands off Gray. Once they reached the hotel, he pulled her inside and locked the door behind them. Things were moving so fast that she didn't have enough time to catch her breath. Gunz's milk chocolaty colored physique towered over her. She felt so small in his presence. An undeniable need for him to put his mouth on her skin consumed Gray. With her back pressed up against the door, Gunz took a handful of her hair into his hand and tilted her head back.

An obsessive look of desire shone from his eyes. Using his thumb, he ran it across her lips like he was applying lipstick. She couldn't help but to take him in her mouth. Gray loved the taste of him. Eagerly, she ran her hands up his shirt. Muscles that she hadn't expected swelled underneath her fingertips.

Gray's neck was pleading to be licked. Gunz satisfied her craving by saturating her skin with soft, wet kisses. Making his way down, he stopped at the center of her chest. Gray's hardened nipples poked through the fabric of her dress like missiles. Enthralled by his touch, she bit her lip and watched as he took a hold of both her thighs and placed them on his shoulders.