Page 7 of Gotta Jones For Ya
I watched her swerve out of the parkin’ lot, shakin’ my head. She had me gone. I stood there for a second, smilin’ and shit like a nut. Because no matter how mad she got…she kept lettin’ me in.
Chapter Four
I ended up being almost thirty minutes late. By 8:26 a.m., I was finally hovering over my client’s lashes with tweezers in hand, smiling and chatting about summer plans while my pussy still throbbed from being folded like a damn lawn chair in my backseat outside the gym.
Knuck had fucked me like he was trying to find God inside me. And now here I was, placing wispy clusters with precision, thighs clenched on instinct, stomach flipping like I swallowed a hundred guilty-ass butterflies.
I did three back-to-back lash sets, squeezed in a refill appointment I wasn’t even supposed to take, scarfed down a granola bar and a fruit bowl between clients, and tried not to keep checking my phone while his name lit it up over and over again.
Knuck was pressing. Heavy.
And as fire as it felt to be wanted like that... it was starting to scare me. Not just the sex. That shit was a thousand times good. It was thepresence. The space he was taking up. In my head. My routine. My peace. He was everywhere now. And I wasn’t built for that again. Not after my past. Not after all the lies and the breakdowns in the shower and the nights I cried so hard I threw up. I rebuilt myself. Brick by brick. Swore nobody was getting back in like that again. But this was just sex. Right?
Good-ass, soul-snatching sex I needed to pull away from. Iwantedto pull away. Itriedto.
Last night, I went on a bomb ass date with Jervel, a fine, successful nigga in IT who wore sweaters like they were made for him and smelled like fresh cologne and ambition. We laughed over oysters and cocktails, flirted just enough, and he walked me to my car with a kiss on the cheek.
It wasnice.No pressure. No explosions. Just grown-up vibes. But I’d spent half the ride home comparing it to Knuck grabbing my chin and whispering filthy, possessive shit while stretching me from the inside. I was a mess. A whole contradiction in heels. So today? I was choosing boundaries.
No replies.
No hearts on his messages.
No energy exchanged.
By the time 7:30 p.m. hit, I was out of the shower with Tink on full blast, slipping into a black mini dress and diamond stud earrings with the matching necklace, trying to convince myself I was in control again. I was a thirty-two-year-oldin controlwoman. Heading out, I met my girls at Whine It Bar & Lounge. Itwas Saturday, and I needed tequila, trap music, and validation. I needed to feel likemeagain. Not somebody’s obsession or sex slave.
The place was packed. The bass was heavy, the lights low, and I felt damn near invincible as we danced our way to the corner booth with drinks. My story post was up before we even took a sip.“FNF – Fuck Nigga Free”playing over a bad ass selfie. I saw Knuck’s name in my likes within minutes.
I didn’t acknowledge it. Just continued vibing with my girls and added a picture of our drinks to my story. Again, Knuck was the first to like it. Like goddamn…
“He'sstillon your back, huh?” Mikki asked, leaning over as soon as we hit the dance floor, doing our two-step in heels.
“Girl, yes. I left him on read all day after his ass popped up on me at the gym.”
“Good. He was outta pocket for just pulling up.”
Sia sipped her drink and cut her eyes. “He's a little crazy, but… whew. From the pictures you sent to the group chat, that man isfine.”
Mikki smirked. “Tatted, tall, and possessive. Still… crazy is crazy. You might not wanna play with this nigga, Ny.”
I laughed, shaking my head, but deep down… I was itching. Every song made me think of him. Every flick of my hips reminded me of how his hands felt. Even the bartender’s beard had me zoning out and picturing how Knuck gripped my thighs when he ate me like heowedme something. Fuck. I needed to go home. My rose was calling my clit.
We walked out of the Whine Bar & Lounge a little after midnight, drunk, loud, giggling and shit. I had a good time and the night was cool… until I sawhim.
Knuck was leaning against this sexy matte black truck parked right across the street. White designer tee, cargo shorts, with a whole-ass bouquet of fresh flowers in one hand and a tired look on his face.
“Ohhellno,” Mikki whispered.
“Did this man show up at midnight… withflowers?” Sia asked, eyes wide.
I exhaled hard, stomping across the street while my girls tried not to encourage me, but I heard Sia shout behind me, “Get that dick, sis.”
I marched up to him. “What the fuck are you doing here, Keon? Have you beenwaitingfor me?”
He held out the flowers. Just handed them over like he wasn’t being insane. “I don’t know what the fuck you did to me, Nyomi…” His deep and raspy voice was low. Rough. “But you got a nigga stuck. I don’t even want no other bitch. I just wantyou.”
My heart folded.
