One Taste by Allison Hobbs Read Free Book Online Page A

shouldn’t be more than an hour or so. You guys know the routine…start with the dental office and work your way up,” Matt instructed. “Onika’s gonna take the ride with me and handle the dusting and polishing and whatnot.”
    Onika frowned. “What? Why do I have to go with you?” She stretched her neck anxiously to the back of the van. “Take Mr. Faison,” she urged.
    “No, I need him to handle the lobby,” Matt said.
    Cochise usually put up a fuss about the unfairness of Onika getting all the easy assignments. But not today. He and the other two workers seemed resigned to the favoritism that was bestowed upon her. Cochise bobbed his head to the music, giving no sign of his usual righteous indignation.
    After the guys unloaded the equipment, Matt swung the van into traffic and headed for North Philly. Onika rode in hostile silence. He parked in front of a cheap hotel on the corner of Broad and Poplar that rented rooms by the hour. Onika was quite familiar with the hotel; it had been one of her haunts back when she was hustling for rock, but goddamn, she was in recovery now. Didn’t she deserve a come-up? Would it kill the cheap bastard to get a room in a real hotel?
    She recognized the clerk at the front desk and he recognized her. He gave Onika a wink as he handed Matt the key to room 207.
    The musty-smelling shit hole of a room brought back memories—exciting memories that put goose bumps up and down her arms as she recalled the euphoric feeling of being high. Suddenly, Onika felt antsy; there was no way in hell she could put up with Mr. Wheeler’s bad fucking without some assistance. A couple of hits off the pipe shouldn’t hurt.
    “I’ll be right back; I have to go to the bathroom,” she said anxiously as she exited the room under the pretense of going to the restroom at the end of the hall. She detoured down the stairs and rapidly headed for the front desk. Batting her lashes at the clerk, she leaned across the desk. “Whassup, Duke?”
    “Whatcha need?” Duke asked.
    Onika held up two fingers.
    In exchange for two balled-up ten-dollar bills, Duke stealthily handed Onika a piece of white rock wrapped in a torn corner of a sandwich bag that was tied at the end—a makeshift crack container.
    “You gotta pipe?”
    Duke stared at her in disgust. “Where’s your shit?”
    “I’ve been clean for a minute.”
    “I ain’t got no pipe for you to borrow, but I’ll sell you a kit for ten bucks.” He reached under the desk and brought up a cylindrical glass tube and a mesh screen.
    Frowning, Onika examined the pipe. “That cheap shit will probably bust the minute I put some heat on it.”
    “Whatever,” Duke said, “You can walk around the corner to the store if you think you can get something better, but I can guarantee you, they gonna sell you the same shit. You know the deal, Onika. How they gonna get return customers if they sell sturdy-ass, unbreakable pipes? You gotta work with what you got.”
    “That’s fucked up,” she said, tossing Duke an additional ten dollars before trotting off to the bathroom.
    Fifteen minutes later, she was back in room 207. She scowled as she examined her fingertips, which were charred from repeatedly flicking the flame to the pipe.
    “What happened? I was starting to worry about you,” Matt said, looking flustered.
    “I’m straight.” But Onika sounded far from straight. Her wordswere slightly garbled, like she didn’t quite know where to place her tongue.
    Horny as hell, Matt didn’t notice. Naked and lying prone, he beckoned her. “Come on, baby, we ain’t got a lot of time. Sit on my face real quick so my dick can get hard.”
    Feeling high enough to be able to put up with her limp-dick sugar daddy, Onika glided over to the bed, pulled off her panties, and straddled Matt’s face.
    Matt flicked his tongue against Onika’s clit and then gently trapped it between his teeth, tongue lashing it until Onika moaned. The sexy sounds that escaped her lips