Noles
We all sat at the table in the back of the cigar lounge, tucked away from the front like niggas who needed privacy.
Thick smoke hung low over our heads, movin slow toward the ceiling, mixin with the low music barely audible under the bass of other niggas talkin' business in nearby booths.
Laughter, money talk, threats wrapped in jokes, it all blended together into background noise I wasn't really hearin'.
Juste was ramblin' through the last lil details of the casino.
Shit like workers, permits, security schedules, timelines but my attention wasn't nowhere near that shit.
My eyes were glued to Jules. That nigga wore a mug straight from hell.
Jules didn't get mad often. He had a long-ass fuse, always did.
But when he did get there, You could feel it before he ever opened his mouth.
It stuck to him and moved through his body.
Changed the way he breathed. The way he held his shoulders.
He stood up from the table fast, chair legs screechin' against the floor, damn near knockin into Pierre, and marched toward the single-person bathroom near our booth.
He shut the door hard enough to make the wall shake.
Then I heard him. Not word-for-word. But the heat in his tone.
The way his voice bounced off the tile like he was pacin back and forth, cussin' somebody out, hand probably pressed to his forehead the same way he did when he was tryin' not to lose his shit completely.
I frowned, leanin back in my chair, listenin through the haze of smoke, my instincts flarin' even if I couldn't name why yet.
Juste stopped mid-sentence, lips parted, eyes narrowin like he was replayin' the last few months in his head all at once.
Pierre looked from me, to Juste, to the bathroom door like he expected somebody to come flyin' out of it at any second.
After a few minutes, the toilet flushed, just for show clearly, and Jules came out.
His jaw was clenched so tight a vein was pushin' out his neck.
He sat back down slow, like his body was heavier than it should've been, slidin' his phone face-down on the table like it offended him.
"What up, Ju?" Juste asked, blowing smoke upward, eyes locked on him.
"Not shit," Jules muttered, straight face, not lookin' at none of us.
I raised my eyebrow. "Nigga, you betta tell us what the fuck goin' on.
I'm liable to think you tryna set me up, bitch.
" Jules snapped his head in my direction. "Shut yo paranoid ass up, Noles."
"Then talk," I said plainly. "'Cause somethin' off.
" He huffed, lookin away, shoulders still tight, like even turning his head cost him effort.
"I just got some shit goin' on at home, aight?
Nothin' I wanna sit up and have group therapy about.
" Pierre scoffed under his breath, adjustin the cutter on his cigar.
"Yo ass betta not be fuckin' off again. Nobody got time for that bullshit. "
"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 phone from 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," Pierre laughed 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 over laughin'.
I laughed too. Couldn't help it. "How you get naked so fast? " she asked. "Come hea," I said.