Obligated

Chiana

I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the computer screen, my thighs clenched, my fingers hovering uselessly over the keyboard. The numbers in front of me blurred, my mind completely somewhere else. On him. On last night. On the way my body still felt tender, still buzzing like I had been struck by lightning and was still waiting for the shock to wear off. A part of me couldn't believe I had let myself get so carried away, let myself completely give in to him. Another part of me? That part knew damn well I had gotten fucked up on purpose—liquor, weed, everything—just to build up the courage to go through with it. Like I needed something to give me an excuse, to give me the push I knew I needed to finally cross that line.

And now I was sitting here with my legs pressed tight together, my breath hitching every time I moved the wrong way, reminding myself just how deep Juste had me last night. And this morning. Because he didn't just leave me with memories of last night. Before he left, he had made damn sure I felt him again, taking his time, filling me up slow, making sure I knew. I exhaled, pressing my fingers against my temples, shaking my head at myself. I wasn't the type to get caught up over a man. I wasn't the type to let one night—one incredible, mind-blowing, earth-shattering night—have me sitting at my damn desk like some starry-eyed fool. But That man had ruined me. The way he moved, the way he commanded my body, the way he owned every inch of me without hesitation. I wasn't used to that. Wasn't used to a man taking his time breaking me down, making me lose control. I dragged my tongue over my bottom lip, my mind replaying the way his voice had dropped in my ear, the way his grip had tightened on my waist, the way he had stretched me—I shivered. Jesus.

I let out a slow breath, straightening my back, trying to focus. I needed to get my shit together. Needed to shake this man off of me, get back in control of my damn self. Then my phone rang, breaking through my thoughts. I grabbed it off my desk and checked the screen.

Amina.

I already knew how this was about to go. I cleared my throat, sitting up before answering. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me,"

she drawled, her tone immediately suspicious. "I been waiting on you to call my ass back. You been quiet. Too quiet. You fuck him?"

I groaned, leaning back in my chair. "Amina—"

"Ohhh, you did."

She screeched in my ear, laughing like she had just won the lottery. "I knew it. I knew it. I been telling your scary ass to let loose, and what you do? You went and fucked that man . Can't believe you, , got a man laid up in her coochie—how does it feel?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, exhaling slow. "Amina, I swear to God—"

"No, don't do that, friend."

She was enjoying this way too much. "I need details. Was it giving? Did he take his time? Did he talk nasty? He sound like he talk nasty—"

I pulled the phone away from my ear, groaning, but I couldn't fight the little smirk creeping onto my lips. This girl was too damn much. "Why are you like this?"

I muttered, shaking my head. She sucked her teeth. "Girl, why are you playing?! You know I need to know. Spill it."

I exhaled, staring at the ceiling for a second before letting my head fall forward. "...He rocked my world, Mina."

The phone went silent. Then— "Ooooo bitch—"

I cracked up, slapping a hand over my face. "Shut up!"

"Nah, nah, nah, you shut up!"

She was screaming now. "I know your ass was walking funny this morning. I know you was clutching the walls for support."

I groaned, pressing my fingers into my temples. "I hate you."

"No you don't,"

she sang. "You love me. Almost as much as you love that man's dick."

But before I could get a word in, my office door swung open. Saint. Jules. Juste. Moving in unison, all power, all control, sucking the air straight out of the damn room. I didn't even hesitate. “Bye, Mina. I'll call you back."

I hung up, ignoring the inevitable text I knew she was about to send, and set my phone down just as Juste walked right up on me. Not sitting across from me like the rest of them. Not waiting for me to address him. Nah.

He pulled up a chair right next to me, close enough that his scent wrapped around me. Then, without a word, he reached for my phone, unlocking it like it belonged to him, his fingers swiping straight to my call log. I watched him, my frown deepening. "You serious?"

I asked, crossing my arms. He didn’t respond. Didn’t even blink. Just scrolled, making sure it was Amina I had been talking to. I rolled my eyes.

Still, he didn’t respond. Just nodded once to himself before setting my phone back down, completely unbothered by the fact that he was all up in my business. I stared at him, sucking my teeth. Juste finally spoke, his tone smooth, calm, but laced with something heavy. "My pops and Ju here to talk about the books. We got another deal to close in a month or two."

My whole body stiffened. My arms crossed. My expression immediately shut down. "The hell you mean another deal?"

My voice was sharp, laced with irritation. "I thought I told you no more after this last one."

Saint, who had been sitting quietly, watching me with that unreadable smirk, finally let out a low chuckle. A slow, deep, knowing chuckle. Like I had just said something real funny. Saint leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, those sharp, dark eyes settling on mine. "Baeeby girl, You think you tellin' us how to run this shit?"

Jules chuckled under his breath, shaking his head, and Juste just sat there, watching me, his expression blank, waiting to see how I was about to respond. I swallowed, straightening my spine, keeping my face neutral, even as my pulse kicked up. "I think I was under the impression that I was cleaning up your mess, not adding to it."

My voice was smooth, controlled. Saint smirked, tilting his head slightly. "That so?"

I lifted a brow. "Yeah. That's so."

Juste exhaled through his nose, rubbing his chin, before finally speaking. "Listen, let us handle what we gotta handle. You just focus on making sure the numbers do what they need to do."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "That's cute. But I'm not some little assistant that just follows orders. I told you, you keep bringing in more—"

"And I heard you,"

Juste interrupted, his voice dropping, his eyes locking on mine, dark and serious. The tension shifted. Tightened. Grew thicker. I swallowed, heat spreading up my neck, my irritation battling with the way my damn body reacted whenever he talked to me like this. Saint leaned back, watching the exchange, that same smirk still in place. "She feisty,"

he murmured, shaking his head. "I like her."

Jules chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, let's see how much you like her when she cussin' us all out after she has to fix this shit."

Saint laughed again, standing up. "Aight, baeeby girl. Juste got the numbers for you. Handle what needs handlin'. You smart—I know you gon' figure it out."

My nostrils flared, exhaling through my nose as Saint and Jules both stood. Juste didn't move. Didn't so much as twitch, just stayed seated, watching me with that same unreadable expression that made me feel like he saw through me. I stood up, smoothing my hands over the gray T-shirt dress I'd thrown on this morning after my shower, trying to shake off the frustration still lingering in my chest.

The door clicked shut. Before I could take another breath, Juste moved. His strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me off my feet effortlessly, and in seconds, I was on the desk, my legs automatically parting as he stepped between them. I barely had time to react before his mouth was on my neck, his lips trailing slow, heated kisses along my skin. His hands were everywhere, gripping, sliding up the curve of my ass before they dipped lower. The second his fingers found the thin material of my thong, he tugged it to the side, ripping it so it was no longer in the way, making me gasp. "J—Juste—"

I moaned, before I felt him. Thick. Hard. Pressing right against my clit. A soft moan escaped me, my thighs tightening around him, my body already reacting before my mind could catch up. He smirked against my skin, rubbing himself against me, teasing me, making me ache. "Sound so pretty when you do that,"

he murmured against my neck, voice dark.

Then, in one swift motion, he slid into me, deep, stretching me, making me gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "Oh my—"

I couldn't even get the words out, my body clenching around him, taking every inch of what he was giving me. His pace started slow, deliberate, hitting places he had no business hitting, his mouth never leaving my neck, sucking, making sure I felt him in every way possible. The pleasure built quickly, my legs trembling around him, my breath coming out in short, quiet moans.

Then—The door swung open. I froze. Juste didn't. His hips stilled, but his hand slid between us, his fingers finding my already soaked clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles, making my entire body lock up. "The fuck you want, Ju?"

Juste growled, his tone edged with irritation, but his fingers never stopped moving. I clenched my jaw, biting down on my lip, fighting to stifle the moans threatening to spill out as I squirmed against his touch, my body betraying me. Jules stood there, frozen, eyes darting between us before his face twisted . "Oh shit, my bad... uh... I was just coming back to let y'all know Nia invited y'all over for... you know what? I'll just text you bout that. Pops wanna holla’ at you before he pull off."

Then, just as fast as he appeared, he was gone, slamming the door behind him. The second it shut, I exhaled, my body trembling, my thighs still quivering around Juste as I tried to collect myself.

I smacked his arm weakly, breathless. "Are you insane?"

He chuckled, slow, dark, still inside me, his fingers pressing one last teasing stroke against my clit before gripping my hips. "What? He should've knocked ."

I opened my mouth to curse him out, but the moment I shifted, feeling all of him still deep in me, I lost my train of thought. He felt it. Saw it all over my face. He pulled out of me adjusting himself in his pants making me pout . "Fix your face"

His voice was low, dripping with control. "We not done. Let me see what’s up."

_

Later that night, we found ourselves at Jules and Nia's estate. The house was big, beautiful, but still had that warm, lived-in feel. You could tell a family was raised here, from the scattered toys in the corner to the soft scent of vanilla and home-cooked food in the air. Nia had cooked lasagna, and after we ate, we were all sitting around in their open-concept kitchen and dining area, drinking and talking. Their kids—Juliana, Jezel, and little Juelz—were spending the night with Ms. Evie and Saint, which explained why Nia wanted the company. The house was too quiet, too still.

She leaned back in her chair, sipping from her wine glass as her eyes bounced between me and Juste. Then, just like that, she smirked. "Y'all acting weird."

I stared at her blankly. "What?"

Juste didn't react. Didn't shift. Didn't even blink. Just kept sipping his drink, his face unreadable, his body completely relaxed next to me. But under the damn table, his hand was firmly rubbing up and down my thigh, moving slow, teasing, his fingers pressing into my skin in a way that made it damn near impossible for me to sit still. I shot him a look, warning him without saying a word, but all he did was smirk into his glass, like he had no idea what he was doing. Nia leaned forward, squinting at me like she was trying to read my soul. "You heard what I said."

She sipped again. "Y'all acting weird. What's going on?"

I kept my face neutral, ignoring the way Juste's fingers squeezed my thigh slightly. I shifted in my seat, clearing my throat. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Nia mimicked, brows raised. "You sure? 'Cause I know my brother-in-law. And I know when some shit goin on."

Juste finally spoke, his voice smooth, unbothered. "Damn, Nia, maybe I'm just in a good mood."

Jules snorted. "Yeah, a real good mood."

I tensed slightly, my stomach flipping. Because I already knew where this was going. Nia's attention snapped to Jules immediately. "What that mean?"

Jules smirked, shaking his head. "Nah, it's just funny, that's all."

Nia sat up straighter. "Funny how ?"

Jules glanced at me. Then at Juste. Then back at me. Then he grinned. "I caught dem earlier."

My whole body stiffened. Nia's eyes widened. "Caught?"

Jules lifted his glass, nodding toward me. "Your lil accountant friend over here? Yeah, she was sitting real high up on her desk when I walked in earlier."

Nia gasped, covering her mouth with her hand before screeching.

I groaned, my face heating, but Juste just chuckled, slow, low, like he had been waiting for this conversation to happen. Nia immediately turned toward me, eyes damn near glowing with excitement. "Bitch."

I sighed. "Nia—"

"No, don't 'Nia' me! You was sitting up on your desk while my brother-in-law was—OH MY GOD."

She screamed into her wine glass. I closed my eyes, shaking my head. Jules laughed, leaning back in his chair. "I mean, I ain't see everything—but I saw enough."

I covered my face. "Y'all too much."

Juste smirked, completely unbothered, his fingers still rubbing slow circles on my thigh. I pinched him under the table, making him grunt slightly, but all he did was chuckle. Nia leaned in, lowering her voice, eyes wide. "Okay, but I'm here for it . brother in law been needing somebody for a minute ."

I shook my head, lowering my hand and taking a big sip of my wine. Jules sighed, shaking his head dramatically. "Y'all nasty as hell, man."

Juste chuckled, finally speaking. "Ain't my fault your ass don't know how to knock."

The laughter in the room settled into a comfortable hum, the warmth of the wine and the company loosening me up more than I realized.

I wasn't supposed to feel this at home. Not with them. Not with Juste. But here I was, sipping on expensive-ass wine, laughing at Nia's dramatic ass, while my Juste rubbed on my thigh under the table like he didn't just almost get us caught up earlier. Nia was still grinning like she hit the damn lottery, eyes locked on me. "So, what you not gon' do is try to change the subject. I need details."

I groaned, sinking further into my chair. "We don't even need to get into all of that. "

She scoffed. "Girl, you in my house, drinking my wine, possibly sitting in my damn chair with your coochie still adjusting, and you telling me we don't need to get into that ?"

Juste choked on his drink. Jules slammed his glass down, laughing. "Yo, what the fuck?!"

I slapped my hands over my face. "Oh my God."

Nia waved her hand, unfazed. "Answer the damn question, ."

I peeked at her from behind my fingers. "I will not."

She leaned in, narrowing her eyes. "So that means he rocked your ass, huh?"

Jules groaned, standing up. "I can't still can't believe she fell for the nigga"

Juste grinned, sipping his drink slow, like he was eating this shit up. His hand squeezed my thigh, just slightly. I shot him a look, but that damn smirk never left his face. Nia caught the exchange immediately. Her mouth curved into a smirk. "Oh. Oh."

She smacked Jules on the arm. "Oh, he got her!"

Jules rolled his eyes. "I don't wanna believe this shit."

Nia pointed at me. "That man put it on you, and now you sitting here quiet as hell!"

I lifted my wine glass, sipping slow. "I plead the fifth."

Jules shook his head, looking at Juste. "You should be ashamed of yaself, man."

Juste just shrugged. "She don't look ashamed."

I almost choked on my wine. I sighed, shaking my head. "Y'all are insane."

Nia grinned, topping off my glass. "Nah, baby. You insane for messing with a St. Jean. But I ain't mad at it."

Juste smirked, leaning back in his chair, hand still gripping my thigh like he wasn't letting me go nowhere.

—

By the time we made it back to the house, I was exhausted. I couldn't even explain why—I hadn't done shit but sit around, drink wine, and listen to Nia clown me all night. But the second I stepped inside, I felt the weight of everything settle on me, the warmth of the alcohol making my limbs heavy. So, I did what I always did—slipped into my room, peeled off my clothes, and let the hot water from the shower run over me, hoping it would wash away the thoughts swirling in my head. Thoughts of Juste. Thoughts of how much I was letting myself fall into this shit.

When I got out, I dressed in a satin pajama set—shorts and a tank—I climbed into bed, sighing as I melted into the mattress. I barely had a second to close my eyes before I heard his voice. "Come get in the bed with me."

I blinked, turning my head toward the doorway. Juste stood there, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, his dark eyes locked on me. He wasn't dressed like he had been earlier. Now, it was just a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, his chest bare, tattoos stretching across his skin. I sat up slightly, my arms folding across my chest. "No."

He lifted a brow. "No?"

I smirked. "You don't just get to keep getting my coochie cat like that."

He chuckled, low, deep, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "Oh yeah?"

He moved toward the bed, slow, deliberate. "That what we doin' now?"

I held my ground, tilting my head. "That's what I'm doin' now."

He smirked, running a hand over his beard before sitting on the edge of the bed, close enough that I could smell the clean, masculine scent of his body wash. He turned slightly, his dark eyes meeting mine, studying me. "Aight,"

he murmured. "Then what do I gotta do to get you in my bed?"

I hesitated, caught off guard. Because, honestly? I hadn't expected him to ask. Hadn't expected him to care. I swallowed, shifting slightly. "It'll be nice to actually get to know something about you."

His brow lifted slightly, but he didn't look surprised. He just watched me, unreadable, before nodding once. "Aight. Come on."

I frowned. "Come on where?"

He stood up, nodding toward the door. "Downstairs. I'ma pour us a drink. You wanna know about me? Let's talk."

I blinked. "...Right now?"

He smirked. "You said you wanted to get to know me, right? Come on. Don't get scared now."

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head before sliding out of bed. Because as much as I wanted to act like I wasn't intrigued...I was.

I followed him downstairs. Juste walked into the kitchen, pouring drinks. I made my way to the living room, settling onto the couch, tucking my feet under me, pulling the soft blanket over my legs. I didn't know what I was expecting, but when he came back, handing me a drink in a heavy crystal glass, my brows lifted slightly. I sniffed it first, catching the hint of Hennessy, amaretto, and a splash of something sweet.

I sipped slowly as he sank down next to me, his own glass of Hennessy in hand, resting on his knee. His arm stretched across the back of the couch, his body close but not overwhelming, his eyes already locked on mine before he even spoke. "What is it that you wanna know?"

His voice was smooth, low, but there was a weight behind it. Like he already knew I wasn't here for surface-level shit.

I took another sip, then tilted my head. "What do you wanna tell?"

His lips curled into a smirk, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "That's a dangerous question."

I shrugged. "I think I can handle it."

He let out a slow breath, tapping his finger against his glass. "I consider myself the lover nigga wit control if you can't tell."

He laughed "You ever been in love?"

The question caught me off guard. I blinked, licking my lips before setting my drink on the table. "Love ? forever ago maybe. I don't know if it was that or just... a bad habit."

Juste nodded and looked off like he was thinking about something .I exhaled. "What about you, lover nigga ?"

He chuckled before His jaw flexed. Then, for the first time since we sat down, he looked away, eyes drifting toward the glass in his hand. "Yeah."

I didn't say anything, just waited. And eventually, he kept talking.

"Her name was Troi."

He rolled the glass in his palm. "Met her when I was nineteen. Thought she was it. Thought we was solid. Even thought I was gon' marry her one day."

I stayed quiet, listening. "She got pregnant. Told me it was mine. And I believed her."

His voice didn't change, but there was an edge to it now, something dark sitting beneath the words.

I swallowed looking confused. "it wasn't?"

He let out a humorless chuckle. "Nah. It wasn't. Found out when she was eight months along. Shit got weird . Another nigga hit my line about the bitch , Making me count back an realize that I spent a month in Houston at the time she got pregnant . Whole time, bitch had me lookin' like I was a damn fool."

I felt my stomach tighten. he was just calling the girl out her name. “Juste..."

His expression was unreadable. "You know what's crazy? I wasn't even gon' do shit. Wasn't gon' snap. I was just gon' leave her ass alone, let her live her little life with her new family. But she kept lying. Kept tryna gaslight me, telling me it wasn't true when I had the fuckin' proof. Had her nigga calling my phone, talkin' reckless like I was the one in the wrong."

I took a slow breath, not liking where this was going. "So what happened ?"

He looked at me now, dead in my eyes, and for the first time, I saw it. That possessive, dangerous, unhinged part of him sitting right beneath the surface. "I shot up her car. Shot her mama house up. Shot her doctor’s office up . Whole lotta shit went on"

What the fuck ? My entire body went still. My fingers tightened around my glass, but I didn't move. Didn't react. I just listened.

He smirked at my silence, shaking his head slightly. "Relax, . Nobody ain't die. But I wanted them to feel me. Wanted them to know I ain't the nigga to play with."

I let out a breath, steadying myself. "Where is she now?"

He took another slow sip of Hennessy before answering. "Atlanta. Far as I know."

I sat back, exhaling through my nose. "So you just... let her go?"

He chuckled again, dark, deep. "After I put fifty holes in her car? Hell yeah, I let her go."

I stared at him. And he stared right back. No hesitation. No regret. No second-guessing what he did. Just complete, calm acceptance of who he was.

I swallowed, looking away for a second before forcing myself to ask, "Would you do it again?"

His smirk was slow. "You tell me. If I found out you was playin' with me like that, what you think I'd do?"

I shivered. Not out of fear. But because the way he said it, Like he meant every damn word. I believed him.

And maybe I should've been scared. Maybe I should've sat up, put some distance between us, reminded myself that this man was dangerous, that he'd shot up a whole damn car with his ex and her real baby daddy inside. But I didn't move.

I just leaned my head back against the couch, taking it all in, letting his words sit in the space between us, settle into the atmosphere like smoke curling in the air. Then, Juste exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "Enough of that, though."

Before I could react, his fingers lifted my chin, making me look at him, his dark, steady gaze locked on mine. "I bet I can tell you everything about you."

I blinked, brows lifting slightly. "That so?"

A slow, knowing smirk stretched across his lips. "Yeah. That's so."

I tilted my head, intrigued now. "Aight then. Impress me."

He leaned in slightly, voice dropping low, that deep, velvety tone wrapping around me like silk. "I know you lost your parents a while back. That they never got to see the life you built for yourself. And I know that shit still eats at you, even when you pretend it don't."

My stomach tightened. He rubbed his thumb across my bottom lip, slow, deliberate. "I know that outside of Amina, you don't talk to nobody on a personal level. You keep your circle small, keep people at a distance, 'cause getting too close means giving them the chance to hurt you. And you ain't doing that shit again."

My throat dried.

He kept going. "I know that strong front you put up? That shit ain't always real. That nigga Tonio? He dogged you out for that short period of time that you let him, made you second-guess yourself, made you question your worth. But you bounced back. You always do."

His jaw flexed, like the thought of Antonio pissed him off. Like it was personal. Like it wasn't just something he knew, but something he felt. I swallowed, my fingers gripping the blanket in my lap, my pulse picking up speed.

But Juste wasn't done. "I know you're carefree when you drunk. That's when the real you comes out. You let go, you laugh louder, you dance even when there ain't no music playing. And I know that every damn day, at some point, you sneak off and dig into them gummies like it's part of your routine."

I couldn't help it. A laugh bubbled up out of me, cutting through the heaviness, the weight of his words. and when it did, I felt my eyes burn slightly, felt the threat of tears creeping up on me before I could stop them.

Because he wasn't just throwing out shit he had heard from somebody else. He wasn't just repeating things that were obvious. This man... Had studied me. Watched me. Understood me in ways that people I had known my whole life never even attempted to try. I blinked quickly, looking away, trying to suppress the emotion building in my chest.

That's when his fingers gripped my chin, turning my face back toward him, forcing me to look at him again. His voice was quiet, but heavy. "I might've forgot to mention I made it my business to learn everything about you... a long time before I approached you about a job."

I swallowed, my throat thick.

"Shit, sometimes I have to ask myself..."

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Was it really even about the job?"

I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding. Because in that moment I knew. This was bigger than the business. This was bigger than money laundering, bigger than contracts and obligations. Juste knew me. Knew . And all he had done was watch. He didn't even realize it... But in this moment, with nothing but his words and his undivided attention, he had just melted me down and made me clay in his hands.