I wasn't expecting a call. Definitely not from him.
I had forced myself to sleep, wrapping frustration around me like a blanket. Aunt Linda had drained my soul earlier, screaming about how I'd be the death of her. The bonfire whispers were still buzzing in my head. Stephen's voice, his boldness. Zion's silence.
I had told myself I didn't care.
Then my phone vibrated.
I squinted at the screen. Zion.
I almost let it ring out. Almost.
I picked up. "What?"
His voice was low, thick, and slow, like something sinful. "Come outside."
I sat up. "You dey craze?"
A pause. Then softer. "Please."
I sighed, glancing at the time. 11:17 PM. I should have hung up, but my feet were already moving, my hands already grabbing a hoodie.
Sneaking out wasn't hard. Everyone was asleep. I pushed the door open, stepped outside—and froze.
He stood under the streetlight, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket, tall frame glowing in the dim yellow haze. He had no business being here. None.
I folded my arms. "You lost?"
A slow exhale. "Come."
I stared at him, at the way his jaw clenched like he was barely holding something back. I should have asked why, should have demanded an explanation.
Instead, I followed.
We walked in silence for a while, my thoughts racing. My mind wasn't sure whether to be mad, confused, or just plain curious about what the hell was going on.
His apartment was dim, smelling of him—clean soap, something warm and masculine. He locked the door behind us.
Silence.
Then, like something snapped, he was on me.
My back hit the door, breath stolen from my lungs as his lips crashed against mine.
Heat.
His hands slid under my hoodie, fingers grazing my bare waist. He groaned, low and deep, like touching me was the relief he'd been searching for.
And then, against my skin, "You think he can have you?"
I barely processed the words. "What?"
He nipped my neck. "Stephen."
I almost laughed. "Are you seriously—"
A sharp bite. I gasped.
His voice was rough. "You let him call you Arìké."
"Because my name is Jade?"
He exhaled sharply, his breath hot on my skin. "You know what I mean." His hands tightened, holding me firmly against him. "You let him sit too close. You don't see it? He's playing you."
I couldn't even process the tension in his voice. "What, because he calls me that stupid name?"
"You think that's all it is?" He pulled away, his eyes fierce, like a storm was brewing behind them. "You think he can make you feel like I can?" He stepped back and looked me up and down, his gaze scanning me like I was something he had every right to claim. "No. I'm the one who's been there for you. I'm the one who knows you, inside and out. Who the hell does he think he is?"
I wanted to say something, but the words were caught in my throat.
"Tell me," Zion said, his voice dropping to a whisper, but the intensity still there, "What does he make you feel?"
I stepped back, breaking the intensity. "Zion, you dey craze, abi? What's all this talk about Stephen? He's not even in the picture."
Zion grabbed my wrist and pulled me close again, not roughly but firm enough that I felt the heat radiating off his chest. "Liar," he muttered, his lips brushing against my ear. "Don't lie to me. Don't tell me you're not feeling that shit he's throwing at you. You know what you feel when he calls you that name. You know."
I swallowed, but my words wouldn't come.
"Exactly," Zion muttered. "I see it in your eyes. You're torn between him and me, but let me make this clear. You belong to me."
I felt the tension in the air shift. I had to push back, but the words didn't feel right. I couldn't say it. Not now. Not like this.
"Zion…"
He cut me off. "Stop talking. Let me show you."
His lips crashed back onto mine, and this time, it wasn't gentle. It wasn't soft. It was raw. Hunger.
His hands roamed under my hoodie, touching every inch of skin he could find, as if claiming me all over again. The way he held me, as if I was the only thing that mattered in that moment—it was enough to make my head spin.
"You think he can touch you like this?" Zion's voice was rough, low, full of something primal. "You think he can make you feel this?"
I couldn't answer. My body was already betraying me.
He kissed me harder, his hands pulling at the waistband of my pants. I didn't even know when my clothes had started coming off, but I didn't care.
This was about now. About us. About him reminding me that I was his in a way Stephen never could be.
Zion pulled me into him, his lips trailing down my neck. "Tell me, Jade," he said, his voice thick with desire, "Who do you belong to?"
I moaned softly, feeling the weight of his body against mine. "You. I belong to you."
His smile was wicked, his eyes dark with satisfaction. "Damn right you do."
Then he dropped to his knees, his hands spreading my legs apart as he looked up at me with that same devilish smile. "Let me show you how much you belong to me, Jade."
His mouth was on me before I could even process the words. The sensation was electric—hot, wet, and addictive. His tongue worked me over like he had all the time in the world, and the way he made me moan, the way he tasted me—it was as if he was savoring every second.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, pushing him deeper, needing him more than I'd ever needed anyone. The world outside didn't exist.
"Zion," I gasped, barely able to catch my breath. "Please."
He looked up at me, his face wet with me, and he smirked. "You don't need to ask, baby. Not when you're mine."
He moved back up, his body pressing against mine again. His lips found mine in a bruising kiss as he entered me, slow at first, then harder, faster.
I arched into him, matching his rhythm, my body begging for more. Every thrust, every touch, every gasp made the tension between us build higher, until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.
"Zion," I moaned, clinging to him. "Don't stop."
He groaned, his lips close to my ear. "I won't, baby. Not until you know who owns you."
The way he said it, the fire in his words—it sent me over the edge.
I came with a cry, my body shaking beneath him, and Zion followed right after, pulling me close as he found his release.
When it was over, we lay there, tangled together, breathing heavily, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.
Zion whispered, his voice soft but commanding, "You're mine, Jade. No one else's. Don't ever forget that."
And in that moment, I knew I wouldn't.