Juke Jam | ✍︎

𝖙𝖊𝖓

𝖏𝖚𝖐𝖊 𝖏𝖆𝖒
❝ 𝐃𝐄𝐉𝐀 𝐕𝐔 ❞
𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔

        𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 drinks were enough to loosen Azryah Walters up enough to fall in James Moreau's chest, and they became so close that they looked as though they were whispering sweet nothings to one another over Drake's 'One Dance'.

"I'on believe all that, Jay, I haven't changed much." she rolled her eyes, tipping her head back in order to meet his eyes staring down at her. "Apart from the fact that I know how to do my taxes, that's 'bout it."

"Nah, you've changed. You just ain't noticed it." he assured, gently nodding his head as his gaze enjoyed every one of her distinct features, from the small mole above her left brow to her seductive, feline stare. It was leaving him mesmerized.

"Aight, then how?"

"Well, it's 'cause you're lookin' even more beautiful since the last I saw you," he answered softly. Azryah giggled, lifting her glass and smiling like an idiot into her rim. James admired the coyness he bestowed upon her.

"You've definitely changed, your game is better fo' sure," she said, trying to diffuse her giddiness.

"My ball game or my pull game?" his brow peaked.

"Your ball game pretty clean, I won't lie. You made it to Championships like you always talked about. You living good now, I'm proud of you too—" she commented, gaining a warm smile from him, "—even though I know I could probably still destroy yo' ass in Hoops in the arcade. We gotta do that before we go, that'll put your career to shame." she confidently added, causing him to burst out laughing.

"That's cool, if you so confident." he challenged. "And my pull game? I know it got you trippin'." James grinned. The night was reaching its all-time high and Moreau was going to make sure that he had Walters under his arm by the time they closed. Still unsure of how far he could go with her, considering Isaiah, James didn't want to hold back and lose the last chance he may have before he returned to Los Angeles.

"Don't gas yo'self with that, I ain't never trip," she contested with a pout. Despite his worries, he reeled back into her, as he replied.

"Yo, I pulled you enough times back then to know that that shit ain't true. My game always gave you butterflies, didn't it?" he flirtatiously replied. Whispering the last of his words along her right cheek, shivers scattered down her spine. "It still does, don't it?" It sure did, she thought. As much as she wanted to deny the fact, whether it was when they were younger or even up to the present point in their lives, James Moreau was the only guy that could successfully tame Azryah "drunk-mouthed" Walters.

Her matter-of-fact, smart mouth ran dry when he was close to her, leaving her rethinking her words to avoid stumbling on them—just from the way his hands always delicately treasured each part of her body when he touched her, to the way his mellow voice sounded when he slowly spoke her name.

"You got all your good moves out today, don't you?" she scoffed, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. His focus momentarily flicked down to her lips.

"All the new ones be workin' on you, too."

"You don't even gotta be doin' alla that. I haven't changed, I'ma prove that to you."

Their faces were inches apart, at this point. James licked his lips as a smile grew at the corners, "Aight, bet, whatchu 'bout to do?" At that, his challenging remark was enough to encourage her insatiable need to draw him closer.

Her fingertips tenderly grazed his chin, as she lifted her slightly parted lips and tempted him to meet her half way—she could tell he wanted to. Once their lips touched, he almost instantly fell submissive to her lead, making him savor every last bit of her intimacy, and every last bit of locked nostalgia came rushing through like a speeding train, as their tongues met and moved in sync.