Yours Truly

The After

The drive to my place was quiet, but it wasn't empty.

His hand rested on my thigh, fingers warm and still, like they belonged there. I didn't move them. I didn't want to.

Every so often, we'd catch each other glancing, smirking. No pressure. No rush. Just... heat under the surface, simmering.

We pulled into the lot, and he parked beside my car. He didn't turn the engine off right away—just let the music play low. The last song we danced to was still stuck in my head.

I turned toward him. "You coming up?"

He raised a brow, playful but cautious. "You sure?"

I nodded, slow. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't have asked."

He didn't say a word. He just grabbed the keys, stepped out, and met me on my side. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath until he opened my door.

We walked up the stairs quietly, shoulders brushing. My hands were a little shaky as I unlocked the door, but I played it cool. He stepped in behind me, and I flicked on the lamp near the couch. Warm light poured across the living room.

I slipped off my heels. "Make yourself comfortable."

Jay took off his jacket, draped it across the arm of the couch. He didn't sit, though. He just stood there, looking at me like I was something to memorize.

"You good?" I asked, half-laughing, half-flustered.

"Yeah," he said, stepping closer. "You just look too good to rush anything."

And then he was in front of me—close enough that I could feel the heat rolling off him, but still not touching.

"Deja," he said, low and intentional. "Can I kiss you?"

God, I felt that.

The old me would've hesitated. Thought too long. But not tonight.

I nodded. "Yes."

He leaned in slow, like he was savoring the moment. And when our lips finally met, it wasn't rushed or forced. It was intentional. Soft. Full. Like a promise whispered on the skin.

His hand cupped my face, and mine found their way to his chest, feeling his heart beating steady through his shirt. I kissed him back like I'd been waiting. Maybe I had.

When he pulled back, his thumb brushed along my jawline. "Been thinking about that since breakfast."

I smiled, breathless. "Me too."

We moved to the couch, and everything after that felt like a scene you don't rush. We didn't dive in headfirst—we lingered. Touched. Talked between the silence. Laughed between kisses.

At one point, I straddled him, my arms draped around his neck as we kissed slow and deep. His hands slid up my thighs, deliberate but respectful. God, it felt good to be wanted like this—without games or guessing.

"I'm not trying to cross any lines," he murmured against my skin.

"You're not," I whispered back. "But if you do, just know I'm not stopping you."

He looked up at me with something between heat and softness. "Noted."

And then he kissed my neck—slow, like he knew how easily I melted.

His lips moved down to my collarbone, and every part of me responded before I could think. My body leaned into him, fingers tangled in his curls. He wasn't rushing anything—but the way he touched me said he wanted to.

We paused only long enough for me to whisper, "Stay the night?"

He looked at me, eyes searching mine.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

That was all it took.

⸻

The rest of the night unfolded in layers.

Music still playing low in the background. Streetlights casting soft shadows through the window. And us—entangled in kisses, whispers, and deep breaths that said more than words could.

We didn't go all the way, not yet. But it was close. Skin against skin. Heat rising with every kiss, every slow drag of his fingertips across my back. We explored each other's energy, not just our bodies.

And when we finally curled into each other under the sheets, half-clothed and fully exposed, he kissed my forehead and whispered, "This doesn't feel like a one-night thing."

"It's not," I whispered back, barely audible.

He pulled me in tighter, like he believed me.

I pulled the sheet around me because it was getting a little chilly. The moment was slow-burning but thick with want. His hand grazed my thigh, and I didn't stop him.

But then just as I leaned in again, he froze.

Jay: Wait.

Me: What?

Jay sat up a little, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. The screen was glowing with a notification, and the tension in his body changed.

Me: Is everything okay?

Jay didn't answer right away.

Jay: It's from my ex.

Me: The one you co-parent with?

He nodded, jaw clenched. Then he turned the screen so I could read it.

"We need to talk. It's about our son... and about you bringing Deja around."

My heart skipped.
I hadn't even met his son.
What did she mean?

I pulled the covers closer to me, unsure if I was supposed to feel flattered, nervous... or warned.

Jay: I haven't told her anything. I swear.

Me: Then how does she know my name?

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jay: I don't know.
But something's not right.

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Now go get yourself together because ya thought she was about to get those cheeks clapped. AHT AHT AHT! Not on the first night😏. Ya little nasty! 😂

Until next week. See ya! Oh and tap the screen to hit the star and leave a comment. It's free!