Water from the overhead shower jets down on us, I close my eyes and moan as Paul's fingers dig into my scalp, massaging the shampoo into my hair to rid it of the residue gel. My eyes fly open when his hand strays to my breast, I frown and his evil chuckles echo in the bathroom. He returns to his task, rinses the lather from my hair. Soapy water rolls down to our feet and disappears through the drain. A content sigh leaves my lips as he repeats the motion with the hair conditioner, the intimate silence only interrupted by the sound of running water.
We keep at it until our bodies are free from lather, I offer him one of my white towels once we step out of the shower, wrap one around my hair and he rewards me with a heart-melting smile. With our fingers laced, towels wrapped around our waist, chest and hair, we saunter to the room in silence.
"You're so quiet," he states when we are standing in front of the wardrobe. I gulp.
This morning was not my first time but with Paul, it felt like a whole new experience and I want a repeat of it. That is not the issue though, I am yet to tell him. He pulls me close to him, my towel drops to my feet and I yank his so we can both be in similar state. His chuckles taunt me, I refuse to look at him when he hooks a finger under my jaw.
"Ify." My eyes raise to his face, I blink and lick my lips when he kneads a nipple, then cups my mounds. "Your breasts are so tiny."
My jaw slacks, I hit him on his arm and take steps away from him. "Hey," I start. Without meaning to, my gaze lowers to my chest, I palm my full breasts and my eyes narrow. This boyfriend of mine is an idiot. "They are not small, they are perfect for my shape."
He closes the distance between us, I reach for my towel but he tugs it out of my grasp. Folding my arms on my chest, I look away when his fingers brush my cheek and swat his hands when they rest on my shoulders. His lips pucker, I shrug and keep my eyes trained on the door, ignoring his whispered pleas. I am not upset with his snide remark because I know he doesn't mean it but it feels good to have him on the other end of the spectrum, begging for forgiveness.
"I was joking na. Babe," he mutters. My eyes finally meet his face, his brows furrow and he bats his long lashes at me. "You looked dull, I wanted to cheer you up. Asa nwa," I stifle the urge to smile, "baby la hot. Your breasts are perfect, I love them. I love you."
When I remain mute, he hoists me up and my legs snake around his waist. "Sorry na." His teeth graze my neck, his muffled voice causes sparks to dance on that part of my body and I whimper softly. "Smile for me."
On cue, I erupt into a fit of giggles, my arms sneak around his neck, he scowls and lets out a hiss when he realises I was messing with him. I scream when his arms around my waist relax briefly, he arches a brow as if daring me to question his revenge and I scowl. A ghost of a smile flits across his face, my frown turns upside down and our foreheads meet after I place a kiss on his.
"Why are you so quiet? What's wrong?" he asks in a whisper. Confusion laces his eyes, I palm his face and tug on his lower lip.
Tucking my head into the crook of his neck, my head towel slips and I tighten my arms around him as he struts to drop me on the bed. He kneels between my legs, I lose my train of thoughts when his palms close over my breasts. I suck in my lip when he tickles my belly button, my eyelids flutter rapidly.
My fingers weave into his wet hair, I am reminded of my kinky hair causing water to trail a path down my back. He spares me a glance before taking a nipple in his mouth, I gasp and my head falls back as a series of moans escapes me. My back connects with the bed, his face hovers above mine before his lips descend on mine. Warmth settles in my chest, I push my tongue into his mouth, touching every corner like it's our first kiss.
Pulled back to reality by his tongue circling my taut nipple, I grit my teeth and dig my fingernails into his shoulders. "Paul."
"Yes?" His eyes lift to mine, he smiles and the emotion in his brown orbs causes me to grow shy; I love him too. He pulls me into a sitting position, crouches between my legs and my thoughts evaporate. "I almost forgot," he says in contagious excitement, I lick my lips and nod, "I got you something."
After hearing his statement, I frown, he is forever getting me something. I like that he does but the need to repay him sometimes hangs over my head and it's unfair because my gifts can never match up to the standard he is used to. My shoulders sag, his brows raise in question and I plaster a small smile on my lips. I try to remind myself he doesn't do things with the intention of me repaying him, it is in his nature to give; he is far too kind. But that annoying thought remains.
"You didn't have to get me anything."
He bops my nose. "I wanted to. I had to."
Water glistens on his hairy chest, rolls down his stomach and my hands roam his abs, feeling the hard muscles. With his schedule at the hotel, I wonder how he managed to keep this fit, I can't maintain a routine for a week. He brings my fingertip to his lips, sucks on the delicate surface and I freeze as his teeth graze the skin of my index finger. I am held captive by his gaze, his eyes that seem to see deep into my soul. He places one last kiss on my knuckles and rises to his feet, I sigh, I miss the feel of his lips already.
Stalking in the direction of the vanity, he bends to retrieve his folded clothes on the chair, I gulp at the sight of his firm buttocks and dangling manhood. My nipples rise at the reminder of our lovemaking, the feel of his tongue flickering over them, the warmth that spread through me as he moved inside me until we found a rhythm. I close my eyes as sinful images of us flash in my mind, his moans echo in my head and I sigh softly.
Heat pools at my core, I swallow and rub my legs together to sate the growing desire, the need to have him fill me up again, at least once more before I leave. We should have had sex long before this morning.
My eyes dart in his direction, I lick my lips and avert my gaze from his limp penis promising to satisfy the itch between my legs should I so much as stroke him. I try to keep my eyes on his brows which furrow as he sifts through the pockets of his trousers but lustful thoughts infiltrate my mind and I give in to the urge to stare at his manhood.
Knowing how much of a sex expert he is, I am a bit reluctant to leave. Not without us going another round. Since he has no job and is unwilling to start his business, we can spend the remaining days of my leave under the sheets, exploring and pleasing each other. My gaze falls on a tile, I let out a sigh of longing, I want him to eat me out.
"Where did all your clothes go?" My heart hammers in my chest at the sight of him in front of my open wardrobe, a lump lodges in my throat and I start coughing until he returns to his former position between my legs. His hand connects to my lower back, my coughing subsidies and I flash him a weak smile. "You have been acting weird."
"I have not."
The scrutiny that follows my reply causes my gaze to lower to my thighs, I will have to get dressed soon or we might end up having another romp under the sheet. As much as I want that, I don't want to miss my flight, I promised the girls, tomorrow is the day. I need to see my baby, my namesake. His finger hooked under my jaw returns my eyes to his face, I lick my lips and squeeze my knees to the point he wraps his arms around my wrists. I let out a deep breath.
"Did I do something wrong?" he whispers as if afraid to ruin the quiet morning. My lips pull into a pout, I shake my head, he has been perfect. "Are you sure?" I nod and peck him on his lips. He rewards me with a tiny smile, his hands go behind him and my head sways to catch a glimpse of the object he's fiddling with. "Close your eyes."
The stern look he sends me has the protest dying on the tip of my tongue, I scowl and shut my eyes tight as ordered. His fingers caress my nipples, reminding me of our state of undress and I let out a strangled hiss. It feels so natural to be naked around him but if he keeps up with this delicate touches, I might never get any work done.
His hands settle around my neck, a cold metal connects with my collarbone and he covers my eyes to stop me from peeking. My thoughts come to a standstill, I trace the pendant and wait for him to lower his hand. The familiar warmth that comes from wearing daddy's necklace surrounds me as my fingers trail the jewellery on my neck. My teeth sink into my lower lip, I refuse to open my eyes when his hand disappears from my face. I don't want to be disappointed again.
He lets a few seconds pass before his hands cover mine rubbing furiously on my knees. I let out a sigh when our foreheads touch, my heart skips a beat. "Open your eyes."
A feather kiss on my mouth encourages me to indulge him and my eyes round to saucers at the small pendant resting on my chest. The ability to speak escapes me, my mouth parts open and close like a fish out of water. My head bobs, I exhale and my heart resumes its usual rhythm. It is the same.
The love shaped pendant with two letters at the centre connected with a small heart. My fingers brush the surface of letter E, daddy's initials, also our last name, then wander to mine, letter P. A wave of happiness crashes over me, I can barely conceal my delightful surprise as I bounce on the bed, ignoring my breasts which jounce along. He found it.
I trace the letters again, my heart leaps for joy. "You found it!" My eyes lower briefly to my chest. "God. I have been looking for this thing." His lips pucker, he scratches the back of his head and I let out a nervous laugh. I take another look at the pendant and ask with a small smile, "What is it?"
My hands reach out to smoothen the lines marring his forehead, he offers me a smile that causes the hairs on my neck to rise. I smile, well, more like grimace and he lifts the pendant in the direction of the light. His reluctance to answer me has theories forming in my head, I drum my foot into the floor and call out his name in a whisper.
"Well, I didn't find it," he finally replies. I gulp, some of the comforts that enveloped me earlier fade and the necklace seems to grow heavy, as does his hands resting on my thighs. He stops me from looking away, I maintain a straight face when he smiles. "I got someone to make a new one. A replica."
Oh. I don't know what I feel after hearing that but the necklace loses some, if not all of its sentimental value to me. It becomes an ordinary piece of jewellery I can get myself. Without thinking of him or his feelings, I tug on it harshly and he stops me to assist in removing it. Prying my clenched fist open, he places it on my palm, our gaze lowers to the shiny necklace and my heart sinks to my belly. It's not the same, it can never be.
"You don't like it," he comments.
The neutrality of his voice, the loss of body contact causes my heart to miss a beat, I cast a tentative look at his face which also reveals nothing. I swallow, begging the muscles of my lips to move into a genuine smile or a semblance of it. It obeys, I smile or so I think until his brows raise, then my grimace disappears. No use trying to deny it, he can always see through my facade.
"It's fine," he mutters. I am not sure if it's hurt I hear in his words but the smile he offers is as fake as mine and I freeze with shame. "You don't have to pretend to like it."
Silence reigns over us, taunting silence and guilt strikes me when he makes to take back his gift. I should be more appreciative, a lot of thoughts and money went into this, the least I can do is lie or act more convincing.
"Wait," his hand halts on my palm, "I like it."
"You don't," he retorts. His eyes keep mine captive, he arches a brow as if asking me to say otherwise, I suck my lip and give up on trying to appear convincing. He is right.
A sigh escapes me, I avert my gaze. "I don't."
Shaking my head, I try and fail to form a sensible explanation. Since it looks and feels the same, I should be able to see it as the one I lost or be grateful he got me this but it's not the case. This one is different. I sigh, I can't explain it either because it makes little or no sense to me but I don't want it.
"I have never had another necklace except for that one and this," my eyes dart to the one in his grasp, "it feels wrong to have it."
Warmth nestles in my chest when he pecks my forehead, I grow shy when his gaze returns to mine. "I'm not sure I understand your logic but it's alright." My lips pucker, he smiles and I relax. "I will return it."
"Thank you."
A laugh escapes me when his mouth moves into a pout, I giggle and reward him with a chaste kiss. He shakes his head and taps on his puckered lips for a repeat. I roll my eyes, his hand on the back of my head keeps me in place for a longer kiss and his fingers relocate below my waist. I gasp into his lips, he swallows my moans and inserts a finger into my warmth. In. Out. He withdraws to close his lips over that wet finger, his mouth returns to mine and I get a taste of myself.
My hands lower to his erection, I caress it, his teeth sink into my lip, I moan. Littering open-mouthed kisses on my neck, his hands fondle with my sensitive nipples and my palms clamp down on his wrists to stay his movements. He glares at me, I go rigid.
Annoyance laces his voice when he asks, "What is the problem?" I blink, my chest rises and I open my mouth without a word.
"None," I murmur, "I am not in the mood."
His eyes dart between my nipples pointing at him and my swollen lips, I gulp. "Okay."
We both know I am lying but I am grateful he plays dumb. He retrieves the necklace that had fallen to the floor in the heat of our moment. I purse my lips, weave my fingers into his beard as he lifts it for inspection.
"Can I just keep it?" His brows furrow, I pout and pinch his cheeks, he is too handsome. "The guy was too happy to make it, I don't want to disappoint him by returning it. I can give it out if you like." I shake my head, I want him to have it. He rewards me with a grin, I wink and he chuckles. "Thank you."
Tracing the letters on the pendant, he stares at me with a small smile. "P. E. Paul hearts Eneh." I nod, his lips turn down in a frown. "No, I don't like that one. Paul loves Ify."
Our raucous laughter echoes in the room, I poke him in the cheek. With his approval, I help him put on the necklace. My splayed fingers on his chest brush the pendant, I offer him a tiny smile, it suits him better.
Staring into his eyes, I mutter, "Thank you."
His face scrunches in the familiar it does when he's trying to figure something out. I stick out my tongue. "Thank you too." He blinks rapidly and fiddles with his pendant, I chuckle, I can never get used to seeing the new but kinder sides to him. "I love my gift."
Feigning a yawn, I cup his naked butt to ask, "Aren't you tired of kneeling? It's cold."
The unexpected comeback he gives has me snorting with laughter. I slap his arm, he lets out an exaggerated cry and I roll my eyes. My boyfriend is a clown and I love it. I giggle, truly, the cold tiles don't compare.
My breath hitches in my throat at the swift change in him, I tuck my hands between my laps. "If you don't like my gifts," he says, "don't lie. Don't pretend." I smile sheepishly and nod, finding it hard to hold his gaze. His finger brushes a corner of my lips, he adds, "Always let me know so I can do better or avoid a repeat." I nod again, my arms circle his neck. "So you don't like necklaces?"
"Kinda," he frowns, "I don't. I like makeup."
He places a kiss on my jaw, I smile. "I know that already." I nod with a small laugh, yes, he does. "Now," he says, my heart slows to a painful pace and my brows raise as his eyes dart to my wardrobe, "what happened to your clothes?" He sighs. "What is going on?"
Fear causes me to swallow the imaginary lump lodged in my throat, I rub my thighs the same way I would do my gown. I blink. His face reveals anticipation, my heart thumps and my fingernails dig into my skin.
"Don't get angry," I start. He arches a brow, I gulp and twirl his pendant around my finger. "Paul, you promise to be cool, okay?"
His hands rub on my knees, I am not sure who the action is meant to comfort, maybe to wade off the creeping cold but I am slightly relieved by it. He nods, urging me to go on, I purse my lips as my arms relocate to his shoulders. This shouldn't be hard.
Looking away from the wall behind him, my head swings gently like a pendulum, only stopping when he frowns. "I might," I squeeze my mouth and swallow, "I might be travelling." His brows crease, my teeth sink into my lip as I await his response. "Paul?"
"When?" My mouth opens, the words refuse to come out. "When do you leave?"
My answer takes longer to come, my eyes lower to my laps. "Today." Silence threatens to suffocate me, I continue, "You know how much I love you." His hands on my knees disappear. "Babe. Boo of life. My love." My palms close around his wrists, I offer him a weak smile. "My flight is this morning."
The disappointment written all over him has my hands dropping to my legs. I bring my duvet to cover my nakedness, suddenly feeling shy under his critical gaze. The tiny circles on my duvet become attractive, my eyes fixate on them like they will stop Paul from getting upset. He can't get mad at me.
"What if I didn't come here last night?" he asks in a small voice revealing no emotion, I shake my head. "Would you have told me?"
"Yes," I answer. "That's why I came to the party. To tell you," he arches a brow, I stick my nose in the air, "and to kiss you too." His frown eases up, I blink. "Don't be angry."
Seconds roll by, I trace an invisible line on his chest. "I'm not angry," his smile doesn't reach his eyes, I pout, "I'm sad. We just got back together and you are leaving me."
"Come with me," his chuckles die off at the seriousness in my voice, "I'll pay for your flight. We can go together, I can reschedule mine. You can stay in our guest room, visit your parents. I don't know, just say yes."
Afraid to hear his refusal, I whisper, "Boo of life, please say yes." He heaves a sigh, uncertainty flickers in his eyes. "Please."
Paul's response never comes because my alarm blasts through the air. He groans at the familiar song, I chuckle. He will have to deal with Jon's voice which he claims sounds like someone is squeezing his balls. Pulling him into a tight embrace to stop him from waltzing in the direction of my iPhone, I tuck my head into the crook of his neck with a soft sigh and let the song continue.
I'm on an all time low low low . . .
*****THE END*****
Dun dun dun
*cue drum roll and Tom & Jerry theme song*
There will be an epilogue, which I'm currently working on. I want it to be longer than my longest chapter so it might be up in a few weeks.😄😄😄
I would like us to do a fun Q & A chapter, where you guys (the readers) direct questions to the characters (maybe me too) and then the characters and I reply them.
Alright then, ask away, let's have some fun while I try to put up an extremely *inserts word* epilogue.
My wattpad has been giving me shit tons of issues so sometimes I don't see the comments immediately but I'll do my best to go over this chapter a couple of times to compile the questions.
Thank you all for your time, the (threateningly nice) comments 😂😂😂, the votes and the shares too. 👊👊
God bless you all. 💕💕
I'm so glad this story is over and I'm even more glad for the readers turned friends.
PS: Do you like our new cover?
See you when I see you. 😉😛😉
Sincerely,
M.💖💖