traffic stop

All Rights Reserved ©

Chapter 2

Germaine slouched in the driver’s seat with his arm around Mikayla’s shoulders, his fingers playing with her bra strap. She leaned against him, her left cheek rubbing against the bristles on his chin. The car smelled like food wrappers, cheap wine and weed.

She knew the smell of weed from passing a joint around with the girls behind the shed in the group home.

The car was wedged behind a large green dumpster and a rotting old wooden building that looked empty. Mikayla giggled at the sight of moonbeams bouncing off the green dumpster. It reminded her of Shrek or some other crazy ass Disney movie.

Germaine’s dreadlocks flopped across the dirty beige vinyl seat. Mikayla drank in his long hair and light caramel eyes. Fuck, he was so handsome. “What’cha thinking, girlfriend? What’s so funny?” he asked her, slipping his fingers inside her bra. His voice was smooth and deep and felt like velvet in the night. She could listen to him speak for hours.

“I’m thinkin’ that no one could see us here, which is smack. I don’t want to be caught running away again or hangin’ out with a strange dude.” She felt his fingers massaging the nipple on her right breast. Twisting it, poking it, rubbing the tip. She felt a flush of warmth down below. Then he shifted in his seat, stretched his left arm over her chest and unbuttoned her plaid shirt. She thought he would grab her other breast, but he moved his head down quickly and began sucking on it.

She ran her hands through his dreadlocks. Should she push him away? Or push him down on her tight jeans shorts where she felt warm and needy.

“It’s hot in here,” she complained, wiggling underneath him. She ran her hand over his sweaty forehead and wiped it on his tee shirt. “See. Don’t you have air conditioning in this car?”

“It’s not the air that’s making me hot,” he whispered. “And it ain’t my car. I borrowed it just for tonight.”

He pressed down on her and caught her mouth in his, roughly shoving his tongue inside. When she pulled away, he released her. “You make us some money, sugar, and I’ll get you all the air conditioning you can stand.”

She twisted the small silver cross dangling from the necklace he’d bought her the time he took her to church. Maybe he would get her something else. Those second hand clothes in her closet needed to go.

She slid away from him and leaned against the passenger door. She began buttoning her shirt. “Tomorrow’s a big day for me,” she told him as his breathing slowed. “I’m goin’ home. Home to Momma”

Germaine sat up and ran his hands through his dreads. He stared her down. “Baby, I’ve got some good plans for you, and for us. Goin’ home to Momma is a good thing for a couple of days, but after that, you stick with me. I’m your future, your way out of this slum life ghetto hole.” He turned her around and pulled her backwards close to him, whispering again in her ear.

“Say hi to Momma, but don’t forget that I’ve got big things ahead for us. You’re my gal. I want to show you off. I’ve got friends that want to get to know you. We could even go to Mexico.”

“Mexico?” she repeated. “We had a Cinco De Mayo party once. It was fun. Hmmm, me and you in Mexico sounds good.”

“Momma’s never goin’ to get you there. I will.” He lifted her shirt again and began stroking her stomach and hips with both hands. She looked down to see his eyes fixed upon her belly button. Every touch made her feel alive and grown. She was glad her cycle ended in case he wanted to touch her down there.

“How about a drag off of your weed?” she begged.

“They must still be doing drug testing?” he teased.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m leaving tomorrow. Just give me the joint.” She reached for it.

He leaned away from her smiling wide. Then he took two quick puffs and handed the stub to her, flicking ashes on the car floor.

“Here, baby. This will make you feel good.”

She took the blunt in her finger and thumb. She inhaled and blew it out quickly, coughing. Not much left, she thought. Never was much left for her. In foster care or the group home. Except for Germaine, who treated her special, and maybe Momma who loved her. She would find out tomorrow.

In the meantime, she let herself enjoy the feeling, warm and tickly down there. She was starting high school in a few weeks. Home to Momma, a new school and Germaine. Maybe her luck had changed. She would soon find out.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.