Page 24 of Gotta Jones For Ya
“Knuck…”
“Nah, don’t ‘Knuck’ me. I done gave you space and we good now.”
Sitting up, I pulled the sheets over my aching, naked body. “You can’t just tell me—”
“I can and I am,” he cut in. “I wanna show you my world for real. Introduce you to my peoples and shit. I wanna wake up to that attitude every mornin’ and fuck it outta you every night.” My stomach flipped, and my throat went dry. “Go ‘head. Say no.” He tilted his head like he was daring me.
But I didn’t. Couldn’t. I just stared at him, heat building behind my ribs like my body already knew the answer before my pride could catch up.
“Pack a bag,” he said, brushing my cheek. “We out in two hours.” Then he turned and walked toward my bathroom like he didn’t just flip my whole life in one sentence.
This nigga said it like we were headed to brunch, not boarding a whole damn jet. I sat there for a second, half-naked, still sore, still throbbing, trying to catch my breath andmy sanity. I let out a deep sigh, arm tossed over my forehead, trying to act like my heart wasn’t thumping and my coochie wasn’t clapping in approval. Because she was. Loudly. That dick, that mouth, that energy… Knuck had me falling. Bad. Like, my common sense was gone.
I heard the water running in the bathroom, his deep hum vibrating through the walls. I reached for my phone and slid it off the nightstand. Notifications were lighting up already.
I didn’t respond. Just tossed my phone to the side and ran both hands down my face.
Was I really doing this? Flying out with a nigga who literally threatened to burn the city down if I blocked him again? The wild part was… I couldn’t even lie to myself any more. I wanted him. I wanted him bad. And crazy or not… I kinda-maybe-sorta wanted to see what this was, even if it wrecked me.
???
The jet was ridiculous. Plush cream leather seats, a bar stocked with every drink imaginable, flat screens, gold fixtures, trap music playing low over the speakers.
Knuck sat across from me, relaxed, phone in one hand, glass of Don in the other. Too damn fine. I crossed my legs slowly and leaned back, sipping my champagne, pretending I wasn’t eyeing that print that had no business sitting up like that.
He caught me looking and leaned in close, that crooked smirk playing on his lips as his eyes swept over me like I was still naked. “You know I still smell like you, right?” His voice was low, rough, laced with pride. “Might not ever take a shower.”
I damn near spit my champagne out, laughing. Bubbles tickling my nasal cavity. “You’re disgusting.”
He shrugged and gulped down his drink. “Aight. So first stop is the crib, then we can get some food and shit then—“
“Wait, wait. You just have the whole day planned already?”
“Somethin’ light. Why? What’s the word?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “You are something else.”
The rest of the flight was spent with him going over all the plans he had for us, including Sunday dinner at his grandmother’s house. Was I nervous? Hell yeah. I’d never met a nigga’s family before, especially one that I wasn’t even in a relationship with. Well… yeah, never mind.
The wheels hit the tarmac, and I swear my heart was still catching up.
Last time I was in East Hollis, was where it all started. Knuck flying me out and dropping that demon dick on me. This time was different, though. This time, I wasn’t flying commercial. Instead, I was stepping off a damn private jet in the middle of the afternoon with someone who somehow convinced me to put everything on hold for a quick getaway. I should’ve been panicking, but nope. My thighs were still trembling from the way Knuck touched me mid-flight.
The humid air slapped differently as Knuck’s arm slid around my waist the second I hit the last step, guiding me like I belonged to him. A truck was already waiting—big, black, clean as hell, and gleaming under the sun like it had just come out of the detail shop.
“Hop in, baby,” he said low near my ear, his voice making my nipples pebble under my crop top.
I slid in, leather wrapping around me like I stepped into a different version of luxury. Masculine. Intimate. It smelled like fresh pine, backwoods, and him. He climbed in like he owned the world, shut the door, and glanced over at me with a look that could get a woman pregnant off eye contact alone.
“Welcome back to my city.”
He grinned, palm immediately settling high up on my thigh, damn near in my panties. I gave him a side-eye but didn’t move his hand. I was trying to be fake mad still, but his cologne, his voice, and that little smug smirk made it impossible.
“Can you keep both hands on the wheel, Mr. Jones?” I teased, buckling my seatbelt as he pulled off smoothly.
“Sit back and relax, Ms. McCallister.” His thumb dragged slowly over my inner thigh.
The city rolled by, block by block. East Hollis was alive in its own way. Again, I’d never seen a place that looked this gritty and beautiful at the same time. There was culture in the air. History. Hustle. And now that I knew more about Knuck, he belonged here. You could feel it.
