Page 4 of Gotta Jones For Ya

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 the presence.

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.

I wanted to pull away.

I tried to.

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 was nice.

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-old in control woman.

Heading out, I met my girls at Whine It Bar & Lounge.

It was Saturday, and I needed tequila, trap music, and validation. I needed to feel like me again. 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's still on 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 is fine.”

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 he owed me 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 saw him.

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.

“Oh hell no,”

Mikki whispered.

“Did this man show up at midnight… with flowers?”

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 been waiting for 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 want you.”

My heart folded.

I hated how easy it was to soften for him, but it was the way he looked at me like he wasn’t trying to go to sleep without me. Like nobody else mattered. Like I belonged to him even when I swore up and down that I didn’t.

I took the flowers but didn’t say thank you. I didn’t say anything as I turned to my girls. Mikki shouted, “Be safe! Text us when you get home, bitch!”

Knuck opened the passenger door, and I climbed in, knowing full well I was playing with fire. He handed me his phone, and reluctantly, I typed in my address.

The ride to my place was quiet at first. Thick with unspoken words. His hand rested on the gear shift like he was trying not to touch me, and I stared out the window, half mad, half aching to climb into his lap.

“You look good as fuck tonight,”

he said finally.

I turned toward him.

“How did you even find out where I was?”

“I know ‘bout that spot. Peeped the table your drinks was on. Plus, I know the owner.”

“Stalking me… again.”

He shrugged.

“You ignored me all fuckin’ day.”

“Keon…”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“I told you from jump what this was. It was supposed to be just a one-time thing. You keep trying to take it somewhere else.”

He nodded slowly.

“I heard what you said, Nyomi. But that don’t change what a nigga feel.”

“That’s the problem,”

I said, voice sharp.

“You don’t listen.”

He pulled into my complex and turned the engine off. Then turned to me, finally meeting my eyes in the dark.

“I do listen. I just don’t agree.”

That silence between us tightened. My chest throbbed with it.

“I didn’t sign up for this,”

I whispered.

“You… in my DMs all day long. Pulling up unannounced. Jealousy. Flowers in the middle of the night. It’s… a lot.”

“You think this shit don’t scare me, too?”

he asked, jaw tight.

“I don’t do feelings and shit, but I want you. For real.”

“You can’t—”

My voice cracked.

“You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep showing up like this when I said I don’t want anything serious.”

He leaned in slowly, face inches from mine, voice low and honest.

“I can’t stop. I tried. But it’s too late. I’m already in it. You got me, baby.”

And before I could answer, Knuck pulled me into his chest, arms wrapped tight around me like he needed my body to breathe. My forehead pressed against his neck. His heart was pounding. So was mine.

“Even if you keep pushin’ me away, I’ll be right here. Every time,”

he whispered.

When we got upstairs, I set the flowers on the island in the kitchen without saying much and peeled off my heels. He kicked off his sneakers and stood behind me, leaning against the fridge, quiet. Watching. I turned to him.

“So what… you think you can just keep pulling up and that’s gonna make me fold?”

He stepped closer.

“Nah. I think me pullin’ up is just remindin’ you what you startin’ to feel.”

I rolled my eyes, biting the inside of my cheek.

“You think you got me all figured out, huh?”

He smirked and closed the distance, backing me up against the hallway wall.

“I think I got your body memorized, but I wanna learn your heart.”

I wanted to argue. Wanted to say fuck you and kick him out. But instead… I kissed him. He picked me up and carried me as I pointed to my bedroom. He lay me on the edge of the bed and kissed me slowly. Deep tongue. Open mouth. Like he needed me to feel it this time.

“You want me to stop?” he asked.

“No,”

I whispered.

“Say less.”

He peeled my dress off, eyes locked on mine like he was stripping away more than clothes.

His lips brushed over my skin—collarbone, shoulder, chest.

By the time he reached my thighs, I was breathing heavily.

Then he kissed softly between my legs at first.

Teasing. Tongue lazy, wide licks that made me squirm. Then, he got focused. He spread me wide, threw both legs over his shoulders, and devoured me—sloppy, nasty, intentional.

“So fuckin’ good,”

he growled, voice muffled by my pussy.

“Cum in my mouth, baby.”

I came with a cry, back arched, thighs trembling. He didn’t stop. He held me down and kept going, tongue curling inside me, sucking my clit while I begged, moaned, tried to push him away, only to ride his face with both hands gripping the headboard.

“Fuuuck! Knuck! I can’t—”

He looked up, mouth glistening, eyes dark. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, then shifted me down and kissed me slowly again, making me taste myself on his lips.

“You ready for some dick now?”

I nodded, breathless. He slid in deep, slow and full, until we were chest to chest, hearts syncing. Long strokes. Eyes locked.

“You feel this?”

he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine.

“This ain’t just sex, Nyomi. Let a nigga in.”

I tried not to cry. I did. But he moved so deep, so soft, so… powerful, it cracked something open inside me.

“I hate how good this feels,”

I whispered.

“I love how good this shit feels,”

he replied, kissing my lips, my neck, my shoulder.

“I love you.”

What the fuck? I didn’t say it back, but I kissed him harder. And when I came again, wrapped around him like my body forgot all the rules I was trying to make, he stroked through it, whispering promises he wasn’t supposed to make.

“I promise a nigga will do you right, baby,”

he said over and over. He pulled out, cumming with an animalistic growl. Afterwards, I curled up on his chest, too tired to move or speak. His fingers traced my back in lazy circles.

“I ain't lettin’ you go,”

he whispered into my hair.

I didn’t answer. Because even though I should’ve told his crazy ass to leave… Even though I knew better… I felt good in his arms. And that was the part that scared me the most.