- Happy Valentine's Day! 🥺❤️
I got flowers today y'all. Yay!
Let's get intooo the chapturrrr.
——
Beverly
It's been ten minutes or thereabout since I angrily walked out on him and left the balcony, and he still hasn't knocked on the door to apologize or something. Wow! Predator and prey illustrator. "Son of a–" I hit a frustrated fist on the innocent cushion.
15 minutes gone.
20 minutes gone.
25 minutes is almost gone when my phone dings, a message from him popping up on the screen and my heart skips a beat.
Zay-Zay✌🏻
Open the door, I don't wanna knock, I might wake Seun.
I roll my eyes, muttering a few swear words before making my way to the door and swinging it open. The lights on my nightstands are the only lights on, giving the room a dim-cozy-cave feeling and also distributing enough light to go around the room and for me to see his face.
"I didn't mean whatever I said out there, plus, I wasn't referring to you, I was just telling you how it feels for guys," He says in a low, deep voice, looking at my face, his eyes moving restlessly as he looks at me.
I scoff, throwing my face to look at something that is definitely not him.
"Really. I'll never disrespect women with my words, I'm serious. I'm sorry you were offended. We cool now?"
"You're sorry I was offended and not for what you said?" I turn to look at him, eyeing his 6'3 figure.
"What? No, no, I'm sorry for what I said, I'm sorry that it offended you, and I'm also sorry for any other future offensive thing I might say. Are we good now?" He grins at me and the way he bites his bottom lip and playfully rolls his eyes makes my blood supply increase, causing blood to rush down there.
I grin back. "Yes, we're good."
"Okay," He says, still standing at the door.
"Um... okay," I drag the 'y' at the end and he still doesn't get it that this is the part where he goes to his room, "Okay, Umar."
"Who says you can call me that?" He squints, shaking his head in wonder.
"You want me to stop?"
"What? No no, I like it. From you alone, I like it when you call it," He hastily says, keeping a straight face.
I uncontrollably beam. "Alright," I say in a whisper.
"Alright," He whispers back. We stand there, looking at each other, my body reacting to how intense he's looking at me. His golden-brown eyes twinkling with a strong desire, the same type of emotion that I had seen in his eyes when we were in the pool, weeks ago.
"Do you wanna come in?" I ask him. He swallows hard.
"N-no, I have to go to bed," He declines, rubbing his eyes tiredly, like a toddler
I stick out my bottom lip, "But I'm not sleepy."
"I am. I have something to do tomorrow," He drawls.
"Please, just talk to me for like ten minutes. Probably tell me another funny story from your uni days and then you can go," I convince.
He huffs, "Do you have any idea what's going on in my head right now? Do you?" He questions, his words oozing frustration, and I give him an answer by negatively shaking my head, "No, you don't. Now let me go to bed, please?" His voice is deep, soothing, almost a sexy growl which cracks when he says 'please'.
I shake my head negatively again.
"Okay, I'll stay, but just for ten minutes,"
I step aside and he walks into my room, shutting the door. "I left my laptop at the balcony, and I wouldn't be surprised if a–" He stops talking when I hold his wrist, stopping him from walking further. "What?" He questions, running his eyes through my body.
I walk to stand in front of him, leaving no space between us, my heart is racing, my pulse, rising so high it can take the roof of my room off. He gives his bottom lip a quick lick and the action sends my hormones into a race and before he cares to process what I want to do, I stand on my toes, reach for his face and crash my lips into his, not giving a single fuck in the world.
Almost as if he's been waiting for it, he responds to the kiss immediately, not thinking it through. We're nibbling, biting and sucking on each other's lips, practically sharing the same breath with zero ounce of space left between us. His lips are like raw unrefined ecstasy, moving in sync with mine, exchanging unmentionable emotions.
Still standing on my toes to reach his height, my hands are roaming all over his head, cheeks and neck; I want to eat this man. His scent is maddening, but the way his left hand runs through the fabric of my vaginal area drives me over the brink of pleasure and brings me back.
When my legs are almost giving up, he lifts me from the ground, his hands grabbing my butt cheeks so hard it makes my pussy lips spread. "Fuck!" I almost scream but I moan in his mouth instead when I feel his hard-on poke me right where I want to feel it.
Still kissing each other hungrily, with my legs now wrapped around his waist, and his hands kneading my ass pleasurably, he finds his way to my bed and gently places me on it. He's on top of me, his hands keeping his weight off me, but the moment his lips leave mine, I snap my eyes open.
"What?"
His golden-brown eyes wouldn't stop looking at me—from my face to my breasts, to my lips. It feels like he needs my consent before he even breathes. "It's taking the grace of my makers not to do things to you right now." The seriousness in his eyes and his power to control himself makes me imagine how much things he wants to do to me but is seriously holding back.
The realization makes my breathing heavy because I'm trying to keep up with how fast my heart is racing. "Get off me," I command.
For my sanity.
He doesn't listen, he's still looking at me. A very familiar intimidating look, the one that makes me feel naked and super conscious of my body. "Why would anyone hurt you?" He whispers before reaching to stroke one of my cheeks with his left thumb.
He begins to trace my face—feeling my lips, my jawline, my nose—for the next five seconds, I almost forget how to respire because this action comes with so much intensity.
He gets off me, collapsing on the bed. "How was your day?"
Huh?
"What?" I puzzle, turning to look at him. He's looking up to the ceiling, giving me a view of his side profile. His nose, straight and pointed. His lips, protruding and full, quite swollen from how hard I'd sucked and nibbled on them. His lashes, long and full. Why do men always get lucky with lashes? This man is perfect.
What's with all this admiration. Chill the fuck out.
"How was your day?" He casually repeats like we weren't just about to commit sins with each other's body two seconds ago.
His question makes me guffaw.
"What's funny?" I see him trying to laugh, but all he needs was the reason why I was laughing.
"You just asked that like–" I try to find the words, but he interrupts.
"Like we weren't trying to–" We both know the words and when the reason why I found his question funny, clicks, he joins in my laughter.
When our laughter dies down, I feel him looking at me, again.
"I'm not kissing you again," I caution
"Who said anything about kissing you?" He rhetorically asks, then scoffs after saying, "like you can actually resist me."
"Wow, such a nice way to call me thirsty," I scorn, hissing prolongedly.
"That's not even a description on my list,"
"You have a list?"
"No, I don't."
An idea sparks in my head and a smile creeps on my face as I rise from the bed and sit up, folding my legs in a childlike manner. "I have an idea. Sit up."
He listens and does exactly as I say, sitting in the same posture as me, "What is it?"
"Describe me in five words and I'll do the same for you."
"That's the idea?" His face lacks interest, but I ignore the expression.
"Yes, that's it," I reply with a grin, but his facial expression remains the same. "You mentioned 'thirsty' not being in your list of description, so I figure it'll be exciting if we had a list of what we think of each other."
He unfolds his legs and gets up from the bed, "That's not exciting."
"But it is, for me."
He yawns and stretches, hands in the air, making his white T-shirt hike up, exposing his abs, flowing and aligning with his torso. His body isn't one filled with unnecessarily huge muscles, they were a size that fitted his tall, lean figure, giving off the fact that he was a 'work-out-holic'. He is a living work of art, his golden-brown skin was one to die for, just like his eyes. And he was worth every drool.
When he's satisfied, he puts his hands down. "I'm tired, Beverly,"
"But this is just a one-time thing."
"Walahi you're so distracting, I was only gonna come here to apologize, but here I am, talking to you like I don't have work to complete," He sits on the bed and our skin brushes before he lays down on his back.
I flip my imaginary hair. "That's the charm of a goddess,"
"No lies detected, you must be using some reliable juju," I laugh, not just at his joke but the way he says 'juju'.
"Juju," I repeat in the same accent as him, and he rolls his eyes. "Anyways, let's get into it."
"Okay, goddess,"
I feign gagging, pretending not to like how the word 'goddess' rolls from his tongue, and he laughs.
"Okay, now, the first five words that come to your head when you think of the name 'Beverly',"
He ponders for a few seconds before saying, "Distracting. An-"
"Distracting?" I interrupt, looking at him and all he does is nod.
"Yeah, distracting. In a good way, you make me forget how stressed I am or how much work I have to do, it's like a warm feeling and–" He pauses, as if he's spilling too much and doesn't want to, "–it needs no explanation."
He doesn't conceal his feelings well enough. He tries to, but weirdly, I can see past it. I can see a certain emotion in his eyes whenever he'd get lost in having a conversation and quickly realize he wasn't supposed to be talking about it. He is conscious. He wants to wear the cloak of toughness and never vulnerability. That's something I noticed.
"Okay, well, go on," I urge.
"Annoying," He continues.
I gasp, although, amused. "Annoying? Really?"
He chuckles, "Yes. Deadass. Mans not kidding,"
"That's a lie,"
"You know why you're annoying?"
I shake my head negatively.
"It's because I can barely stand by a decision when it comes to you and that shit annoys me,"
"Huh?"
"It's like when I choose B and you choose A, I immediately think A's better, you're so persistent and that makes a decision centred around you, hard to make," He explains, his eyes unreadable. "You better plug me to your juju man."
"Shut up, please," We both briefly chuckle. "Okay, three more to go,"
"Three more and don't ask me for an explanation this time," He warns, and I nod in agreement. The room grows quiet and the sound left is us breathing. "The third one has to be your effortless and unpretentious beauty. It should be considered nonexistent, " He carefreely says, unaware of how much effect that has on me.
"Number four, um..." He pauses before saying, "...Innocent,"
"Innocent in what asp–"
He holds up his left hand and shakes his head negatively, stopping me from talking. "You said you weren't gonna ask for an explanation."
"I know what I said, can't believe you believed that,"
He beams, his eyes shimmering with genuineness. "You're annoying,"
"I don't care, explain it to me." I move in on him, climbing onto him, my legs apart and my ass settling on his crotch. I love how my ass feels on his sweatpants.
"What kind of blackmail is this fah?" He chuckles, his hands making their way to my waist, feeling it sensationally, down to my partly exposed ass, thanks to this Adidas stripe shorts.
"Are you going to tell me?" I ask, lowering my body, bringing my face close to his. His eyes...they looked at me differently. I try to kiss him but he turns his face sideways. Rejecting it. If I say I didn't feel insulted, then I was telling a lie.
I climb off his body and sit on the bed. "Why?" I ask, my voice barely coming out, shame eating me.
He sits up on the bed, adjusts in a comfortable posture, before looking at me. Sacredly. His face showing remorse, and his eyes, apologizing. "You're fresh out of something that hurt you and I don't want you involving yourself in something without being sure of what's going on or how you really feel. I don't know if you're still bruised, you don't know what's going on, I don't want us in an 'involvement'. Or a rebound,"
"This is not an involvement or a rebound, I'm not hurt,"
"That's exactly what a hurt person would say."
"Okay, now you're gonna tell me what I feel and what I don't?" I snap, anger starting to swirl on me. I don't know if it's how he just curved me and now he's spewing this rubbish.
"No, far from it. I'm just saying I don't want us in a weird situation, what you need is a long break and not someone trying to take advantage of how–"
I interrupt him, "That's what you're doing? You see me as vulnerable? You're trying to take advantage of me because I kiss you?" With each question I ask I see his scowl grow deeper and confusion clouds his expression.
"Why the heck are you trying to blow this out of proportion?" He asks, his tone, calm as the moon that's shinning on us through my open window.
"I'm not blowing shit out of proportion, your words just pissed me off. I'm not freakin' vulnerable, or do you see me as vulnerable and you're trying to freaking do something to me?"
"I'll only continue communicating with you if you talk in the same tone in which I started this conversation, calm and adult-like," He nonchalantly says and that irks me.
"I don't see any conversation here,"
He rolls his eyes. "Maybe if you're calm like me, you'll see one,"
I'm glaring at him with anger swirling inside of me, but the way he's calm and looking at me with undivided attention makes the anger in me die off sooner than expected.
"Done?" He asks.
With a frown still taking over my expression I defeatedly say, "Are you gonna talk or not?"
"Good. Look, I'll never say or do anything to hurt anyone intentionally, I'm just saying I don't want us kissing and starting shit because you're trying to get over someone. I love you being around me but I'm not gonna entertain us doing 'things' when you don't look alright," He moves nearer to me, and our profiles are facing each, with legs crossed in a child-like manner on the bed. "The first time we kissed, was the same day you ran into your ex at the club. The second time, which was today, you told me at the balcony that he has a new chick and I listened because I care about you, not because I want to kiss you or I like that he hurt you and you're probably going through a hard time to get over h–"
"I'm not going through a hard time trying to get over anyone," I interject, frustrated.
"Then why do you kiss me hours after anything relating to him?"
"You look delicious," I joke but he doesn't laugh. I sigh before getting serious. "Nothing. It just coincidentally happens,"
"Yeah, right."
"Why do you care what I have going on? If I'm hurt and want a rebound what's-"
"No, Beverly, not here. Not with me. Are you fuckin' with me right now?"
This whole thing is taking a left turn, I do not like the smell this conversation stirs in the air, I don't understand the point of this talk. All I wanted was a kiss, now we're going down a roller coaster of some bullshit talk. Only people who cared to go somewhere with a person needed to know what the hell was going on. I don't need to know what's going on, I just want to kiss.
"Why do you ca–"
"You realize I'm your brother's closest friend, right? We are practically brothers,"
What does that have to do here?
"It has a lot to do here," He replies, making me realize I said that out loud. "Bro code. I'm breaking a major bro code here. Look, I'm tired, I'm going to bed. I'm sorry if I've indirectly said something to upset you or anything." He stands up from the bed, running a tired hand over his face.
"Very well then."
I adjust the duvet and get under it, grab my green medium-sized stuffed dinosaur near me and hug it before comfortably placing my head on the pillow, now laying with my back facing him. "Shut the door after you leave," I instruct, my voice, ice cold.
I don't hear him talk, but I feel the duvet adjust higher, covering my neck, making me warmer; a few seconds later, the lights go off and I hear the door shut. He is gone.
I exhale and inhale deeply. Unsatisfaction runs through me.
It's been twenty minutes or more since he left and all I'm doing is laying up and facing the ceiling, the moon gleaming on me and my thoughts.
Ding! I hear my phone notify, the light from the screen shining brightly. My heart skips a beat because I think it's Zayyad and maybe he's at the door again. I roll over to the side where my device is charging and check the message which reads:
I need to talk to you, I miss you, Beverly. Call me if you're awake, but if you're not and you see this message tomorrow, call me so we can fix up a place to meet. I miss you so much, it hurts.
Yours affectionate, Jackson❤️
____
A/N: Happy Valentine's Day to all my single ladiesssss! All our exes who did us wrong can take a train to hell, and if you're still hurting from anyone of those fuckers, I hope you heal and have the best yearrrr ❤️❤️🥺