one shots

shorty swing my way [6]

september 1998
friday
10:57 p.m.

I'll admit it. I was a lil' tipsy.

DeAndré didn't say anything, but I could tell he wanted to. His shades might've shielded his light eyes, but they didn't barricade the gaze he was giving me. It was a mix of "shorty, chill out" and "you know I'm not savin' yo' ass if you get too drunk, right?"

He didn't even wanna' dance with me.
"Swing, come on," I whined, pushing up on him as he held up a wall.
"Nah, I'm good, baby. Go have fun," he licked his lips.
"Ugh! You're so fuckin' lame," I rolled my eyes before making my way toward the jammed dancefloor, where people bumped and grinded.

Once I found a spot, I danced all by myself, swaying my hips as I began to get into the music. Before I knew it, my body was being pulled against another. It definitely wasn't DeAndré. I know my man's touch from anywhere, so I simply pushed those hands from my hips and found another place to dance. Once I did, I resumed dancing as Too Close by Next started playing.

Baby, when we're grinding.
I get so excited.
Ooh, how I like it.
I try but I can't fight it.
Oh, you're dancing real close.
'Cause it's real, real slow.
You're makin' it hard for me.

Damn, I needed to find DeAndré. I didn't wanna' grind on any other busters in here so I might as well go with what I know. I made my way back toward the kitchen of the house in which the party was being held to find him talking to a couple of guys and drinking.

I smiled slightly, watching him laugh. He was so handsome. I started to approach him, but some hoochie found her way to him before I could.

They hugged briefly, her hand remaining on his shoulder after the fact. She batted her eyelashes and bit her lip at him seductively. He simply smirked as she leaned onto him, pushin' up on him.

Her free hand found his bare chest, seeing as though he was wearing a silk Versace button-down shirt that had multiple buttons undone. Her small hand caressed his caramel skin as she whispered in his ear. After a moment, she gazed up at him for a response. He licked his lips at her before saying something and smirking. I watched her giggle, continuing to push up on him. Meanwhile, he just stood there, eating up the attention like it was his favorite food.

I was clearly upset. I was tipsy on top of that, so I was ready to pop off. However, I needed to figure out how I was gonna' go about this. Just because I was tipsy didn't mean I couldn't play the game that he was. Just like Lisa said: I'm a player too. . . and I can play all day.

I could spot the hard liquor right next to him and his crew. Maybe I could just go over to make a cup. With how good I look, one of them is bound to say something to me. It's not guaranteed that I'd catch their attention that easy, especially when I'm not demanding their attention directly. So, maybe I'll approach them for a dance.

I decided to do just that. I strutted over and stood between DeAndré and one of his chocolate friends, completing the little semi circle they had formed.

"Excuse me, fellas. Would any one of you like to dance with me?" I gave a flirty smile at each of his friends, purposely ignoring DeAndré. I could feel his eyes on me, but I acted as if I couldn't. If he was going to entertain others then I would too.

"Uh--"
"I will," one shrugged, making me smile even wider.
"Great," I smirked, grabbing his hand so I could lead him toward the dancefloor.

However, he was halted by DeAndré. He said something to him, in his ear. The guy's eyebrows rose briefly before he nodded in understanding.