Chapter 5
Tasha screamed, hiding behind the couch with the throw pillow in her hand like it was a damn riot shield.
“Jueee! Stop playin’!” she laughed, her voice a breathless gasp as he stalked closer.
His dick swung heavy and confident with each step, his chest puffed out, eyes locked on her like he was starving for her.
Tasha didn’t even make it two steps into her bedroom before Juelz had his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet like she weighed nothing. His lips were already on her neck, biting softly, breath hot against her skin.
“Boy, you really be doin’ the most,” she giggled, legs wrapping around his waist as he walked them to the bed.
“You don’t even know what I have planned for that ass,” he growled, turning the music back up loud. “Gotcha nosy-ass friend tryna see my dick and shit. What’s wrong withchu, girl?”
She playfully slapped the back of his head. “Shut up, negro.”
He tossed her on the bed like she was his personal gift, spreading her legs with no hesitation.
Tasha propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes slowly dragging down his tattoo-filled chest to the throbbing head of his dick as he made it jump for her. “Ohh shit, now. Don’t hurt meh, zaddy.”
He chuckled, a dark, arrogant sound, and yanked her dress down, then her bra, letting her breasts spill out like he was unwrapping a present he’d been waiting for all day.
He kissed down her chest, his tongue tracing the curve of her underboob before flicking over a hardened nipple.
His thumb found her clit, already swollen and slick, circling it with a pressure that made her whole body tense.
“Damn,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Why you always do me like this?”
Juelz answered her not with words, but by replacing his thumb with the thick, head of his dick.
He went in quick, no more teasing, no patience, just pure, raw pressure.
The beat from Uncle Luke in the next room was thumping hard, fast, nasty, filthy.
And Juelz kept the same tempo. Deep strokes, hips smacking skin with each heavy drive, like he was matching the damn beat.
“Fuck, Jue,” Tasha cried out, her fingers gripping the sheets as she folded her legs back damn near to her ears. Her moans spilled into the air, cut up by breathless gasps. “Shit feel too good, baby…”
He licked across her lips before biting down on her bottom one, sweat dripping from his brow onto her chest. “I told yo ass about that tight ass dress. Now it’s punishment time.”
He flipped her like she was weightless, getting her on all fours and yanking her back by the hips. She arched for him, ass up, mouth open in a silent scream as he buried himself again. Harder. Faster. The room echoed with skin, bass, and Tasha’s cries.
“You gon’ listen to zaddy,” he grunted, slapping her ass loud enough to leave a perfect, stinging handprint.
“Juelz! Fuck… yes! Right there, baby!”
Just as she tried to shift so that he could stay pounding on her spot, he snatched one leg up, twisted her into some sideways combo that had no damn name.
Juelz was standing on the bed now, one foot planted for leverage, giving her the business, going straight to pound town. Tasha shrieked, then she froze.
“Shit—wait, wait! Bae, hold up!” she cried, smacking at his hand that was holding her leg up. “Jue, I got a cramp, nigga! Shittt, stop, my leg locked the fuck up! Crazy.”
Juelz looked down at her, sweating, smirking. “That ain’t a cramp, girl, that’s a demon tryna leave your body. I’m ‘bout to one… two… one…two…three, release‘em.”
“Boy, STOP PLAYIN’,” she screamed through her laugh, trying to wiggle free.
“Nah, don’t tap out now. You said you was grown, right? Said you had that throw-that-ass-in-a-circle type coochie.”
“Juelz!” she squealed, half in pain, half in ecstasy, grabbing the headboard with one hand and her locked-up thigh with the other. “I swear to God… I’ma beat yo yellow ass, Jue.”
Juelz was still putting in work, no mercy, no breaks. His dreads were bouncing against his back. “Keep talkin’ shit, I’ma work on the other leg and balance that muthafucka out.”
The beat from the living room dropped into that iconic hook—
“Say freak them hoes, freak them hoes!”
—and Juelz drove in to every damn syllable.
Tasha couldn’t even scream anymore. Her voice was gone, mouth open, just breathing hard while her body took every stroke as if it owed him something.
He finally slowed down, easing out with a final thrust that made her legs tremble and give out under her. She collapsed face-first into the mattress, weak, sweaty, smiling through her pain.
“I hate you, you fuckin’ bastard,” she mumbled into the sheets.
He laid beside her, pulling her in close, both of them breathing as if they were running low on oxygen.
“Nah,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder, “you love me.”
“Yeah, I do,” Tasha replied.
They laid there for a while, and finally Tasha turned facing Juelz, gazing into his eyes. “Why is it so hard for us to get pregnant?”
They’d been trying for a while now. They both wanted to create something bigger than themselves. A life. A piece of them that laughed like her and looked like him. A heartbeat made from their love. Their chemistry wasn’t just about the sex. It wasn’t just heat, hips, and heavy breathing.
It was the prayers she whispered in silence, waiting for two lines to appear on the stick.
It was her throwing out another test in the trash, covering it up with tissue as if she was burying a dream.
It was Juelz pretending not to see the disappointment in her eyes, pretending not to be disappointed, too.
They both wanted it more than anything. But the baby hadn’t come.
Not yet. Each month felt like another silent loss.
One they didn’t tell anybody about, ‘cause how you mourn something that never existed?
Still…they kept trying.
Kept hoping.
Juelz blinked, caught off guard. “I dunno. It will happen. Just gotta be patient.”
She pushed her loose curl out of her face and rested on his chest.
“I just…” she started, voice low, like the words were scared to come out. “I feel like my body don’t want what I want. Like I’m broken or somethin’. Every time I let myself believe just a lil’ bit, somethin’ come and snatch that hope back.”
She wiped at her teary eyes, tracing the tattoos on his chest, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I really wanna give you a lil’Jue.”
He kissed her forehead and rested his head on hers. “Shit, until it happens, I’ll continue shootin’ that muthafucka up. Yah feel meh?”
She giggled and turned over, “Goodnight, Jue!”
“Mmmhmm,” he yawned, spooning behind her and letting his hand find that same thigh he always gripped when they slept. “Don’t be tryna throw that ass back while I’m sleep either. Ion got no nut left in me tonight. My shit overly soft, my baby.”
She smacked at his hand and chuckled. “Boy, shut up.”