Noles #2
We left together the air outside thick and tense.
Right before I grabbed my door handle, Juste's voice stopped me.
"Don't play wit' me, Noles." I looked at him over my shoulder.
"I heard you, pussy." I slid into my car and pulled off, tires crunchin against gravel harder than necessary.
The drive home was quiet. No music. Just my thoughts replayin everything Ayida told me.
Everything I already knew but didn't wanna face.
My jaw stayed tight, hand rubbing my chin while my eyes stayed locked on the road.
I passed Chiana on her golf cart, waving as she headed away from my house. When I pulled into the driveway, the place felt still. Sunlight cut through the blinds in thin stripes across the floor. I stepped inside and followed the quiet to the bathroom.
Ayida stood at the counter in a black bra and thong, head bowed, hands planted firm against the marble.
Her head was covered with that mesh veil she wore when she prayed.
The room smelled faintly of herbs and smoke, something old and sacred hanging in the air.
Truth was, I loved seeing her like that.
Not in a lustful way, not really. It was deeper.
Something primal. Something that pulled at me from a place I couldn't explain.
Seeing her in her spiritual mode reminded me how powerful she was.
How gifted. How dangerous the world could be to someone like her.
"Wassam, YiYi?" My voice echoed softly. She lifted her head, smiling when our eyes met.
I crossed the room and pulled her into my arms. She tilted her face up, lips already reaching for me, forgetting about the veil.
I kissed her through it once before lifting it gently from her face.
"I missed you," she whispered. "How'd it go at your mama's? "
"She wanna see you," I muttered, my eyes droppin briefly to her body before comin back to her face.
"But I wanna see you first." I pressed my nose to her neck, breathin her in, groundin myself in her scent.
That mix of soap, smoke, and somethin' that was just her.
She wrapped her arms around my waist like she already knew my chest was too tight, like she could feel the storm still pacin inside me.
"Shower with me," she murmured. It wasn't a question.
She turned, fingers laced around my wrist, and pulled me toward the bathroom.
The light was low, steam already curling from the mirror like the room knew what was comin'.
She reached in and turned the water on, the pipes rattlin' once before the spray settled into a steady rhythm.
She bent forward in front of me, slow, unhurried, and slid her thong down her legs. I swallowed hard, hand finding her ass on instinct. I gave it a sharp slap, just enough to make her gasp, and she laughed under her breath like she loved that I always knew just how rough to be with her.
"You starting trouble," she warned softly, glancing back at me.
My hands traveled up her back, fingers tracin every familiar curve before I unclasped her bra.
It slid down her arms and hit the tile with a quiet sound that felt louder than it should've.
When my hands reached the back of her neck, I pulled her upright until her back was flush against my chest. She fit there like she always had.
I kissed along her shoulder, down her spine, slow and deliberate, lettin' my mouth remind her I was right here.
Still breathin'. Still hers. She sighed, leanin back into me for a second before turnin around to face me.
She stepped backward into the shower, water spillin over her hair, down her shoulders, tracin the lines of her body.
Steam wrapped around her, made her look unreal, like somethin' I wasn't supposed to have but did anyway.
I watched her for a minute too long. Then I stepped in and shut the door.
The water hit my back, hot and heavy, the sound of it drownin out everything else.
She reached for me, hands slidin over my chest, up my neck, pullin me down into a kiss that was slow at first then deeper, messier.
The kind of kiss that said we were both tryin' to forget the world outside this glass box.
"You okay?" she whispered against my mouth, like she could feel how tight I was still wound.
"Yeah," I lied, then shook my head. "I am now.
“She smiled at that her hands still on me, steadying me in a way nothin else ever had.
Like she could feel how close I was to splinterin and chose to anchor me instead.
Then she surprised me. One second she was standin there, water sliding down her skin, eyes locked on mine, the next, she was lower, closer, devotion written all over her face.
The sight of her like that did something violent to my chest. The water kept pourin down, steam foggin the glass, droplets clingin to her lashes as she looked up at me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered.
Like whatever demons I carried had no place here.
"Ouuuuuu," I groaned, head fallin back before I could stop myself.
I reached down, grippin her chin, pullin her back up to me.
I kissed her hard, my tongue tangling with hers like I needed to remind myself she was real.
That I was here. That I hadn't imagined her.
I didn't let her go. I lifted her easily, pressin her back against the cool glass wall of the shower.
The contrast of heat and cold, water and skin, made her gasp into my mouth.
My hand found her hip, holdin her there like I was afraid she'd disappear if I loosened my grip.
The water rushed over us, loud enough to drown out the rest of the world.
I kissed her again, slower this time, swallowin every sound she made like it belonged to me. My mouth moved to her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone, anywhere I could feel her pulse jump under my lips.
She whispered to me then.
Low.
Soft.
In creole.
Words meant just for me. The sound of it went straight through my spine. I pressed my forehead to hers, breathing her in, letting the moment stretch because for once, I didn't need to rush. For once, the noise in my head went quiet. For once, I wasn't angry.
I was just hers.
—
Everybody had their shot glasses raised in the air.
Liquor sloshed and Laughter bounced off the walls.
We were posted on the bottom floor of the yacht, the part hidden from the public guest. Steel beams. Low ceilings.
Polished concrete floors still smelling like fresh sealant and money.
The casino sat upstairs, alive and roarin like a beast that had just learned how to breathe on its own.
You could hear it. Chips clackin. Cards snappin. Machines chimin. People yellin, winnin, losin.
That sound hit my chest harder than the bass ever could.
I took it in slow. This shit was real. Juste did this.
My brudda stood near the center of it all.
tux jacket open, sleeves rolled just enough to let you know what ran through his blood.
He was smilin, but his eyes stayed sharp.
Always countin. Always watchin. That nigga was born for this.
"To my nigga," Pierre said, already loud, already half gone, his arm thrown around Juste's shoulder.
"My ace. My mutha fuckin' brudda. You takin' this shit to levels I couldn't even imagine.
" We all lifted our glasses again. "Salute," Jules muttered.
"Empire shit," Pierre added. We threw the shots back.
I'd been drinkin since before the doors opened.
Could feel it heavy in my limbs, buzzin behind my eyes but my mind stayed sober.
Ever since the coma, everything sit different in my body.
Alcohol don't slow my thoughts, it sharpen them and made the edges jagged.
I reached out and pulled Ayida closer to me, my hand slidin around her waist. She giggled softly when I tugged her in, leanin back against my chest comfortably.
She had on this black lace party dress nothing loud, nothing flashy.
It Hugged her hips right. Fell down her thighs smooth.
Her hair was pressed bone straight, falling down her back like a curtain, framin her face so clean it made my chest tighten.
She looked too good for a room this dirty. Too pure for a room full of wolves.
She tilted her head back to look at me, eyes glossy, lips parted in a drunk little smile.
I bent down and kissed her sloppy, unfiltered, mine.
She kissed me back before pushin me away lightly, laughin under her breath.
I reached down and grabbed her ass anyway, squeezin once, groundin myself.
She rolled her eyes. "Hands to yourself" Before I could say shit back "Noles, will y'all show some damn respect," Mama snapped, walkin up on us with her purse tucked under her arm like she had her pistol in it.
Ayida tried to hold back her drunk giggle but failed.
I cheesed. "Ma, relax." She cut her eyes at me.
"I'll Relax when you stop actin' like a horny dick dog. "
Ayida leaned into me and whispered, "I love you.
" Soft, Just for me. Starin in my eyes Then we moved Upstairs.
The casino floor hit different. Lights everywhere.
Warm gold. Deep amber. Reds and blacks woven through everything like blood through veins.
Velvet ropes. Polished tables. Dealers moving smooth and precise like they were trained and paid good.
Money flowed in the air. Stacks being exchanged.
Chips sliding across felt. Cards flipping.
Security posted in corners, eyes moving constantly, hands never far from their waistbands.
I caught myself with my attention on everything and everybody automatically.
Exit routes.
Blind spots.
Who was armed.
Who was pretending not to be.