"Nigga, ain't shit like that," Jules bit out, wavin him off hard. Yeah, That wasn't irritation "Whatever it is, keep it separate," Juste finally said, voice low but firm, the boss tone slidin' in naturally. "We got too much goin' on the next couple weeks." He leaned back, smoke driftin from his lips slow, like he was already tired. "I'm thinkin' after this casino shit," Juste continued, "we chill for a while. Sit back and enjoy some of what we done built. Maybe take some family vacations with the kids, give this city a rest from our name for a minute." Pierre snorted a laugh. "My kids gon' drive me crazier than the streets."
"I'm with it," I murmured, already half out the conversation. My mind had drifted to Ayida. I pulled my phonefrom my pocket and opened my camera roll flickin through pictures of her I took this morning She was laid out naked across our bed, skin glowin', hair wild, legs open just enough for imagination to go crazy. The way she looked comfortable. Open. Mine.
My dick throbbed in my pants instantly, pushin' against the zipper like it was tryin' to break free. "damn" I groaned under my breath, shiftin in my seat, heat climbin fast. I was done with this meetin'. Forreal. "Woooa, we done here?" I cleared my throat, tryin' to play it cool while adjustin' myself under the table. Juste was on the phone with Chiana now, voice softenin' as soon as he answered, and Pierre and Jules ignored me like I wasn't even talkin'. "Aight, I'm finna dip," I said, pushin my chair back. "Nigga, no you not," Juste cut in, holdin up a finger. "Chi baeebbyy, Ima call you back." He hung up and stared straight at me.
"We got that tux fittin' wit' ya daddy for the donor event, remember?" I groaned, draggin my hand down my face. "Man, fuck all that. Y'all know my size. Lace me up. I got somewhere I need to be." They was bullshittin'. My mind was already home. Between Ayida's thighs.
Jules frowned, leanin forward. "Where the fuck you gotta be, nigga? Why you fidgetin' like you got ants in your pants?"
"I got a whole lotta heavy-ass dick in my pants that's tryna be somewhere yo ass ain't never been before," I snapped, brows furrowed. Pierre damn near fell out his chair laughin'.
"Man, I know you ain't talkin' about gettin' no pussy on my time," Juste said, staring at me like I was disrespectin' him personally. "That's exactly what that nigga talkin' 'bout," Pierrelaughed harder. "His ass pantin' like a dog in heat," Jules muttered. "Look at him."
"Man, y'all text me the address and tell me what time I need to be there," I said, already turnin' toward the exit. "I'll meet y'all."
"You some bullshit, Noles," I heard Juste call out behind me as I walked off. I didn't even acknowledge it. I hit the parkin lot and slid into my truck like I was bein' chased, tires spinnin' just enough to scream my impatience. I didn't turn on the radio. Didn't check my phone. Didn't even breathe right. All that mattered was the image burned behind my eyes of Ayida. That image stayed with me the whole ride.
When I pulled into the driveway and saw her car still sittin' where it had been since this morning, my chest tightened in Hunger. That deep, low pull that lived in my gut and crept up my spine. The kind that made my hands itch. I kicked my shoes off at the door and stepped inside without callin' her name.
The house was quiet in that lived-in way. Lights dim. Warm. The air smelled sweet like Comfort. Then I heard her voice. Soft. Laughin'. Low like she didn't wanna wake the walls. It stopped me mid-step. I followed the sound into the kitchen and had to grab the counter when I saw her.
She was leaned over the bar comfortably, phone pressed to her ear, back arched without tryin'. One of my white t-shirts hung off her shoulders, slidin' just enough to tease, and that light pink thong, Disrespectfully starin back at me. My eyes dragged over her slow. The curve of her ass. The smooth line of her thighs. That ankle bracelet glintin' . I leaned against the doorframe and just watched her, breath heavy, heart poundin' like it was mad at me. "Hang up dat phone," I said.
I didn't raise my voice. Didn't need to. The words came out low, heavy, already decided. I saw her smile in the reflection of the fridge door. That little smile she only wore when she knew she had me exactly where she wanted me. "Not hang the phone up," Amina squeaked from the other end. Ayida laughed soft and sweet, then said, "I gotta go, y'all," before ending the call.
She set the phone down slow. Then she turned around.
I swear my knees almost buckled. Her nipples pushed against the thin cotton of my shirt like they were callin' my name. Her hair was in two neat braids, natural and familiar, framing her face just right. Her eyes was Bright, Wide and Waiting. "Come here," I said. Barely a whisper, but the room heard me anyway. She didn't move. Just smiled. Like she knew I was gon' be the one to close the distance.
I shoved my hands into the front of my pants and walked toward her slow, every step intentional. My body already ahead of my thoughts. When I reached her, I dipped my head and breathed her in, nose pressed to her neck. She smelled like sugar cookies. "I missed you," I murmured, hands slidin up to cradle her face. I tilted her chin and kissed her, slow and deep, like a nigga just needed to feel that she was real. "You just left me a few hours ago," she smiled against my mouth. I shifted, lettin' her feel exactly how serious I was, and she giggled, that sound goin' straight to my chest. "Uh-uh," she said, slippin past me. "I got somewhere I need to be."
"Shiddd I do too," I muttered, watchin' her walk away. "We can make it quick." she didn't answer. Just kept movin'. Mesmerized, I followed her ass. The bedroom swallowed us whole. The second she disappeared into the closet, I was already undressin', impatience takin' over. When she came back and saw me standin' there in socks and drawls, she doubled overlaughin'. I laughed too. Couldn't help it. "How you get naked so fast?" she asked. "Come hea," I said.
She tried to dodge me, playful, but I caught her easy. Pulled her back against me, arms firm around her waist, grounding her like I knew she needed it. I Guided her backward until the bed hit her knees and she climbed up without another word. I pressed her down, rough and sure. Mine through and through. She made a sound into the mattress that went straight through me makin my ears perk up. I pushed her head into the mattress, commanding, makin her arch her back instinctively. "I said no," she moaned softly into the mattress, her voice betrayin her. "Shut up," I said huskily, my breath heavy as I pulled the t-shirt she had on up until I reached the lining of her thong. I pulled it quick , the fabric rippin, and tossed what was left behind me without lookin.
My tongue ran across my lips as I spread my hands on both sides of her hips, takin a second to admire her beautiful ass, the way her body responded before I even touched her again. I spread her cheeks apart, watching her pussy slob out the lips at me, already ready, already open. "We gon' be late to wherever we gotta be," I mumbled, strokin my dick behind her, my voice low, knowin damn well neither one of us cared.
I entered her roughly from behind, the force of it pullin a moan straight out of her as her hands flew to the duvet, fingers grippin the fabric like she needed something to hold onto. I continued strokin in and out of her, the sound of skin meetin skin fillin the room, my hands slidin over her ass lovin the way she felt in my hands. "Mmhmm gimme that pussy, baeebbyy," I groaned, my voice thick, desperate. She started throwin her ass back on me, meetin every stroke, takin it like she missed me just as bad as I missed her. I threw my head back, chest tighteninas I took in how good she felt, how right this was. My head was fucked up right now with too much in it, but none of that mattered in this moment. I ran my hands through my braids, trying to keep myself from moaning like a bitch, but the sound still slipped out anyway.
Ayida threw her head back, moanin loud, her voice breakin the quiet of the room. I reacted without thinkin, grabbin the back of her neck and speedin up my pace, slammin into her from behind with no mercy. Her breath caught in her throat, each sound she made comin out broken, like she couldn't quite catch air. I lifted my free hand and slapped her ass three or four times, the sound sharp, echoin, and her body started shakin under me.
I held her there as her orgasm took over, feeling it ripple through her, pull me in deeper, draining the life straight out of my body. When I finally let her go, my chest was heavin, my body heavy, like everything in me had been poured into that moment with her.
_____
I opened the door to the building and was immediately hit with the smell of cologne, leather, and money. The walls were lined with suits and polished shoes like trophies. Italian leather. Custom cuts. Shit niggas wore when they wanted to feel untouchable even when they wasn't sure they felt that way inside. Mirrors everywhere. Tall ones. Wide ones. Ones that forced you to look at yourself whether you wanted to or not. I saw my reflection as soon as I stepped in. Jaw tight. Eyes darker than they used to be. Nigga who had died once and came back wrong.
I could hear my brothers in the back, voices loud, overlappin, cuttin through the low hum of the tailor's radio. Laughin. Arguin. Talkin over each other like always. That familiar noise should've grounded me. It didn't.
I was an hour late meeting them here and for good reason too. Jules caught sight of me first. "Here come that mistake yo mama and daddy made all them years ago," he said, eyein me through the mirror while adjustin the shoulders of his suit jacket. I smiled slow, lazy, lettin it stretch across my face like I wasn't still carryin heat in my chest. "You stay fuckin' with me. You must not be gettin' no ass at home ?"
Pierre barked out a laugh, loud and reckless, the sound bouncin off the high ceilings. "Yo ass childish," he said, shakin his head. "You late, Noles," Juste said, fingers still fightin with the tie around his neck. His tone was clipped, not mad, but irritated enough to be felt.
I didn't answer him, Didn't even look his way. My attention had already shifted. Saint was walking toward me with a suit draped over his arm and a pair of shoes in his hand like he was handin me a uniform. Like this was some passin of the torch moment he didn't bother announcin. I took them from him without a word.
I stepped into the dressin room and shut the door. The second it clicked closed, I exhaled. Lettin pressure off my chest. The mirror in front of me caught everything I didn't want to see. the way my shoulders stayed raised like I was expecting a hit, the way my hands flexed when I thought about too much, the way my chest felt tight even standin still.
I changed quick. When I stepped back out, I felt the attention before I saw it. Saint was staring at me. Not a casual glance or a passin look. A stare that wasn't about the suit but was about me. I ignored him at first, focusin on straightenin my tie. Adjustin the cuffs. Checkin the fit in the mirror like that was the only thing in the room. But his eyes stayed on me. Like he was weighin something. So I stopped. Let my hands drop and Crossed my arms staring back. The room shifted. Jules stopped talkin mid-sentence. Pierre went quiet. The tailor pretended not to exist.
