Page 35 of Gotta Jones For Ya
I shook my head, chuckling. “You go ahead. I’m just gonna wind down for a minute.”
“Nah,” he said. “We gettin’ in the shower.”
I turned fully this time, brow raised. “Why are you being difficult?”
He looked me dead in my eyes. “That’s you. Come catch this nut in the shower, baby.”
“Keon…”
“You tryna argue or get put to sleep?” I opened my mouth to clap back, but… nothing came out. My stomach flipped, thighs clenched on instinct. He smirked. “Exactly.”
Next thing I knew, I was in the air. “Knuck!” I yelped, legs wrapping around his waist, arms flung around his neck.
“I told you,” he muttered against my mouth, walking us straight toward the bathroom, “stop playin’ wit’ me.”
His lips crashed into mine before I could even process that we were moving. Tongue deep, greedy, aggressive. He kissed like he wanted to shut me up, claim me, and devour me all in one motion. I moaned into his mouth, already soaking through my panties. We made it into the bathroom, and he sat me down on the counter just long enough to yank his shirt off, tattoos looking good as fuck on his dark skin, before he peeled my clothes off like they offended him.
“Damn, you so fuckin’ pretty, Ny,” he muttered, eyes scanning every inch of me like it was his first time seeing me naked. “Love your fuckin’ body.”
Knuck flicked the water on, and then he pulled me under the stream, kissing me hard. I backed up against the tile, breathing hard, nipples tight, lips swollen from his kisses. He didn’t waste no time.
He hooked one of my legs around his waist, anchored the other against the bench inside the shower, and lined himself up. Then, slow and deep, he slid in. I gasped. Eyes wide. Mouth open. Nails clawing at his shoulders.
“Fuuuuck…” I moaned, back arching against the tile.
“That’s it,” he growled, hips rocking forward with rough precision. “Take that shit. Let me open this pussy up.”
My head fell back. The water pouring down added to the wet slap of our bodies colliding, his strokes deep and ruthless,each one dragging a cry out of me. He grabbed my ass in both hands, lifting me as he thrusted up into me. Hard. Unapologetic.
“You feel that?” he gritted.
“Yesss…” I whimpered. “Don’t stop!”
He growled again, kissed my shoulder, then buried his face in my neck as he picked up speed. “Say my name when you cum on this dick.”
“Knuck… oh my God…”
“Say it louder.”
“Knuck!”
My legs shook as I fell apart, muscles clenching around him, body trembling. He cursed, thrust once, twice more, then pulled out. Nut spilling down the drain. We stood there for a long minute, chests rising and falling, water washing away the evidence.
He kissed my temple, then my shoulder. “You gon’ end up pregnant for real.”
I didn’t even have it in me to respond. All I could do was smile against his chest… and try to remember how to breathe.
???
We were lying up in Knuck’s bed, lights low, Netflix playing something I wasn’t even really watching. Just background noise. He leaned back, head against the headboard, legs spread with one arm stretched across the pillows, the other holding a blunt to his lips. Shirtless. Chain resting on his chest.
I was tucked under the covers, curled up beside him with my bonnet on and one of his t-shirts. I glanced at him throughthe corner of my eye and caught the way his jaw flexed as he exhaled smoke toward the ceiling, his free hand lightly rubbing on my thigh like it was second nature now.
Everything felt easy like this had been our routine for months. Like I was supposed to be here. How the fuck did this happen?
“Keon.” He looked over at me, that high smirk already creeping like he knew I was about to say some shit. “If I gave you a real chance…” I paused, playing with the edge of the blanket. “Would you stop acting crazy over me?”
He took a slow drag, let it sit in his chest, then blew it out without breaking eye contact. “Nah,” he said with a slight grin. “If you really fuck wit’ a nigga, it’s only gon’ get worse.”
