7. Kase Madoxx
Kase Madoxx
M an, I wasn’t tryna hurt Blyss. That was never the goal.
But the truth? Deep down, I knew I couldn’t give her what she needed right now.
She deserved more than a man still tryna piece himself together.
She needed stability, somebody who could show up without excuses, without the bullshit.
My black ass was still carrying weight I hadn’t even unpacked, still dodging emotions like they were enemies.
So instead of dealing with what I felt, I did what I always do.
I ran. Found a woman who didn’t ask no questions.
One I could touch without having to feel.
Somebody who didn’t need honesty, just the distraction.
My head was pounding from all the Henny I’d knocked back, and I couldn’t remember shawty’s name for the life of me.
It was something with a “K.” Or maybe a “B.” Shit, I really didn’t care.
She told me earlier at the bar, but I wasn’t listening.
I just watched her now, struggling to suck my dick, mouth, damn near choking on the size.
She could barely take it, but she kept trying, sloppy and desperate like she had something to prove.
She was swallowing me down, throat deep, and when I finally let go.
My nut hit hard, and she took every drop like it was some kind of competition she couldn’t afford to lose.
When she pulled back, her lips were slick, her chin wet, her eyes glazed like she was high off me.
She looked up like she was waiting for praise, but I wasn’t handing out shit, not for that weak-ass performance that barely got me there.
The only reason I entertained her ass was ‘cause I wasn’t about to waste a fuckin’ nut.
Frowning, I zipped up my pants and adjusted myself in the driver’s seat, then turned to the chick, who was still fixing her hair like she ain’t just embarrassed herself.
Since the head was straight trash, I knew I wasn’t calling her again.
If you asked me, all these build-a-new-body bitches were the same.
They acted like they could suck or take dick, but it was straight garbage.
"Alright, you ain’t gotta go, but you gotta get the hell outta here."
"You serious right now?" she asked, voice cracking. "You just gon’ drop me off on the side of the road like I’m nothing?"
"I would call you an Uber, but I figured your dignity needed the steps. Now bounce."
"You’re an asshole," she mumbled.
“Nah, baby, you just easy and handed over the coochie like a church program.”
I leaned back, grinning. “Since we keepin’ it real? Your BBL is lopsided. I was tryna stay focused, but one cheek kept clappin’ offbeat like it had its own playlist as we danced. Now leave.”
Shawty began scrambling for her heels in the passenger seat of my ride, mascara running and mouth trembling like she couldn’t believe I was actually kicking her out my ride. I got super annoyed because I was ready to bounce and head to my spot. I needed to get some sleep.
"You a bitch ass nigga. Fuck you!" she spewed, yanking the door open.
"Don’t get mad ‘cause your neck game trash. I should’ve took your homegirl with me, she looked like she know how to suck a dick for real."
My words were cold, but I meant that shit.
Shawty wasn’t no saint. She sucked my dick inside, whip after I bought her a few drinks and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.
Truthfully, I meant none of it. I used the same played-out lines on these hoes, and they fell for them every time.
You know why? ‘Cause I was a dog. But these women were too busy chasing my money to notice I had a collar around my neck.
They were too focused on the iced-out Cuban chain I wore.
I leaned over, popped the passenger door, and gave her my million-dollar smirk.
She slammed the door so hard that the whole car shook.
I didn’t flinch. Just adjusted the Cuban link around my neck and turned up the volume, letting the bass drown out whatever names she was screaming from the sidewalk.
Then I zoomed away from the curb as the moon hovered above in the night sky.
By the time I arrived at the mansion, Jace and I shared, my eyes were hanging low.
I killed the engine and hopped out. Just as I approached the door, a chick named Imani hit my line on FaceTime, and instantly, my dick twitched.
That nigga had a mind of his own and loved pussy.
Shawty was an Instagram model with a fat ass, double D’s.
I slid in her DMs one night, and the rest was history.
When her face popped up on the screen, I smirked.
"What’s up, ma?"
"Hey, Kase. I came to your club with my girls to party, but they said you wasn’t there. You tryna see me?"
I licked my lips slow, letting my eyes drag over her like I was undressing her through the screen.
"Depends on how bad you want me."
She bit her lip. "Really bad.”
I smirked. "Later, shawty. I got other things to do."
"That’s too bad… my pussy is purring for you. See? Look at her. She calling your name."
Imani’s camera dipped and there it was, wet, creamy, glistening just for me. My shit jumped instantly. But I leaned back like I wasn’t fazed, like I wasn’t hard as steel under the camera. Player rule number one? Never chase. Even if the view is everything.
I chuckled, voice smooth as silk. "She look good, ma. Real good. But showing her off ain’t enough to earn this dick tonight."
I stared dead into the camera, eyes hooded. "I’ll call you when I’m ready."
Just like that, I ended the call. Then I stepped into the house, where my Pitbull greeted me by jumping up and licking my face. She followed my black ass upstairs before I hit the shower.
Once I was clean, I slid downstairs. My shirt was off, and I had on boxers, low as hell, just to get something to drink.
I grabbed the milk carton straight out the fridge.
Yeah, I drink from the damn jug. My house, my rules.
Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting an audience until I heard feet approaching.
Then I saw Blyss. She was standing in the kitchen doorway like a deer caught in headlights, glasses foggy, little pajama shorts damn near swallowing her thighs.
Of course, she had that hoodie zipped up to her neck like she was scared of catching a cold.
She looked like a little librarian who got lost on the way to bed.
Instantly, she froze seeing me. I saw her eyes dip, real quick, then snap back up like she hadn’t just scoped my print.
I smirked. “What’s good, Wheels?” I said, voice low and gritty.
She stammered, “Uhh… nothing. I just came to get some milk.”
“Nah,” I held the carton up. “This all we got. And it’s mine.”
She nodded awkwardly, started to back away like I was dangerous. And I was, but not in the way she thought. I watched her fidget, glasses sliding again. That shy energy? Shit was magnetic. She didn’t even know how bad she had it.
“You always move like that when somethin’ stiff around?”
Her eyes got big, like I just slapped her.
“Excuse me?”
I took another sip, eyes never leaving hers. “Just askin’. You was damn near panickin’ when your little pink pocket rocket started goin’ off a few days ago like it missed you. It was buzzin’ like it had somewhere to be.”
Her face turned the color of a fire truck. I laughed low, watching her damn near short-circuit.
“Can we not talk about that?” she whispered, eyes darting toward the hallway.
“Why not?” I stepped closer. “You grown, right? You bought it. Hid it. Probably rode it like your life depended on it.”
She looked like she wanted the floor to eat her. I leaned in, close enough to smell her lotion. That soft, clean scent that always clung to her.
“Just so we clear… if you ever wanna feel somethin’ that don’t need batteries, all you gotta do is ask.”
Blyss’s breath hitched. Her whole body froze.
“Kase…”
“Yeah?”
“You’re… unbelievable.”
I grinned. “And you still thinkin’ about that vibrator… or my dick.”
She turned away, grabbed a water bottle, tryin’ to dip before she folded. I could tell she wanted to say somethin’ back, but didn’t have the courage to. Instead, she stayed quiet. I should’ve left it there. But I didn’t because I loved getting under her skin.
“Ain’t no shame in curiosity, Wheels. Just don’t be scared of the real thing.”
She paused, looked back over her shoulder. “Maybe I’m not.”
That made me pause. She was still flushed, but she meant it.
That response was bold for her. I walked up toward Blyss and pressed her against the counter, taking a long whiff of her scent, and smirked.
Without asking any questions, I lifted her up onto the counter.
. When her thighs tensed, I stepped between them.
She looked up at me like she didn’t know whether to push me away or pull me in.
My hands locked around her waist, firm, not rough, as her hoodie rode up just enough to give me a glimpse of that soft brown skin underneath.
“You don’t even know what the fuck you askin’ for,” I muttered. “You sittin’ here, lookin’ all wide-eyed and breathin’ heavy, tryna act like you ready, but if I fucked you the way I really want to, I’d have you callin’ out for mercy and searchin’ the floor for them busted-ass glasses.”
She said nothing, but the way her thighs clenched told me everything.
“I’d break you in the best way,” I whispered. “Fuck you so good, you’d forget where you lived. You’d be beggin’ for it, but tryin’ to hold your little tears back ‘cause you ain’t built for pressure like that.”
I kissed her, deep and slow, with that grip-you-by-the-neck energy.
My hand slid to the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair, holding her still while my mouth moved over hers like I owned it.
She tasted sweet, like tea and temptation.
And for a second, she kissed me back, soft lips parting, breath catching, body pressing closer like she forgot who she was dealin’ with.
Then I pulled back, just enough to leave her lips chasing mine, hungry, confused. It was control.
“You think this means something?” I asked, dragging my thumb across her bottom lip, watching her breath hitch. “You not ready for this. You sweet. Soft. Sensitive. I break hearts like yours, ma.”
I leaned in, let my lips brush her jaw before I whispered, “We from different worlds. I like flashy shit. Fast nights, loud rooms, bad decisions.” I smirked. “You read books on purpose. You laugh with a snort when shit’s barely funny. You still ask people if they wanna talk about their feelings.”
Her eyes snapped up to mine, wounded and narrowing at the same time.
“Did you just call me a geek?”
I grinned slow. “If the glasses fit, Wheels.”
She stared at me, lips trembling like she was tryna hold it together.
“You don’t think I’m good enough to sleep with,” she said it like her feelings were bruised, like that one cut deep.
I tilted my head and licked my bottom lip, ready to say somethin’ cold. But the words that came out... weren’t what I expected.
“I do,” I said low. “I think about it way more than I should.”
She frowned , caught off guard.
“I think about you,” I admitted, jaw tight. “But you ain’t what I’m used to. You’re awkward and geeky and soft in a way I don’t know how to handle. You don’t match what I built.”
But damn… you feel better than the ones who do. The way you blush, the way your eyes get big when I talk slick… I like that shit. Too much. You’re real in a way I ain’t ready for.
She didn’t speak, just watched me like I was unravelin’.
“I been talkin’ slick, makin’ you feel small. Not ‘cause I don’t want you—but because I do. And I hate that I do.”
I laughed under my breath, dry and bitter. “I run a club. I got women throwin’ it at me every weekend. You over here with cartoon socks and a damn water bottle, and somehow, that’s what stickin’ in my head.”
Why the fuck I keep takin’ your stuff? Why I care if you eat? Why I pay attention to your damn lotion scent?
I stepped back, running a hand over my face. I was pissed. For some reason, I couldn’t shut the fuck up. Everything I thought just came out truthfully. It was like my mouth had a damn mind of its own.
“I talk shit to keep you in your place. ‘Cause if I let you know what I really think? You’d have too much power. And I don’t give nobody that.”
She still didn’t move.
“You ain’t my type,” I said again, softer this time. “But I want you anyway. And that fucks with me.”
Worse part? I trust you more than half the people I call friends.
A long silence stretched between us. Then I whispered, “You make me feel shit, I don’t got no business feelin’.
And if I wasn’t so caught up in what people expect…
I’d be slidin’ them glasses off and fuckin’ you right now.
Soft at first… then rough enough to make you forget every line I ever crossed. ”
Her lips parted, breath shaky. But I didn’t wait for a response.
“I’m scared you might be the first thing I don’t wanna break,” I admitted.
Blyss just tilted her head slightly, like she was processing whether that was supposed to be sweet or stupid.
Then she said, “Well, in the next ten minutes, I can’t wait for you to go back to keeping the truth to yourself, ’cause some things are better left unsaid,” she muttered, not even looking at me, like she was talking to herself more than to me. “Should’ve never went to that old man.”
Before I could question what Blyss meant, she stormed out of the kitchen, away from me.
Truth was, I ain’t wanna hurt her. She was sweet, too sweet.
But a girl like her couldn’t handle my lifestyle.
She liked quiet shit, reading books, going to the library, visiting museums, listening to classical music, like that was fun.
Me? I lived loud. Flashin’ lights, VIP sections, private bottles, and makin’ sure I stayed the number one club owner on this side of the map.
I couldn’t slow down for nobody, especially not for a girl who still thought love songs and fairy tales meant somethin’.
She was soft and couldn’t handle a nigga like me or my lifestyle.