by Abeni Inks
It had maybe been the most heroic thing someone in her young life had ever done...
“Demilade Demilade Demilade, every small thing, is it because she’s the only girl in this class. 5Me sef, I go love o!”
The class had gone quiet for the space of a heartbeat during which it seemed no one breathed. Then snickers, giggles, chuckles, and side eyes had been offered to Gbolahan whose jaw had fallen.
“Which nonsense is that?”
“Dude you don’t have to form. Everyone knows, Mr. Lover, lover. Gbolahan her lover. 6Love her jeje, love her tender”
The class had erupted in mischievous laughter and anger transformed Gbolahan’s face into something grotesque. But it had ended his reign of picking on Demilade.
He maintained a healthy distance from her after that accusation.
Over the cleared-out plastic table Ifekunle reached for Demilade. Traced the veins on the back of her palms with his fingers.
There was a playful glint in his eyes when he spoke next.
“I’m still Ifekunle who would slay dragons to see your dimpled smile. And I literally just dropped everything to entertain you for a week, didn’t I? Nothing will happen that you don’t want, Demilade.”
Nothing that I don’t… Perfect. But of course…
She felt like she had just been handed a hammer to nail her own coffin.
* * *
1. Amala: Yam flour swallow
2. Ewedu: Jute leaf soup
3. Gbegiri: Bean soup
4. Babe la risqué: (slang) Adventurous young woman
5. Me sef, I go love o: (pidgin) Me too, I will love o!
6. Love her jeje, love her tender: love her gently; love her tenderly. Lyrics adaptated from "Love me jeje" by Seyi Sodimu
Chapter 13
The air was hotter than she remembered.
Demilade was impulsively turning 180° back into Mallam Aminu Kano International Airport’s local arrival lounge when she caught Ifekunle’s quizzing eyebrow.
Can you feel this? You brought us into this heat? Really?!
A giggle appeared in her throat and her feet faced forward again.
“Oga! Oga Madam! You want am for taxi?”
Few feet ahead of her Ifekunle was thrust into the throng of bombarding drivers.
Right hand in his pocket and left on the pulley of her box, he was the poster boy for cool, calm, and confident.
The humid air moulded his fitted t-shirt to his body and his long limbs on display boasted sinews of sculpted muscles.
He didn’t seem to have gotten the memo that one didn’t wear t-shirt, khaki shorts and sneakers to northern Nigeria like a casual holiday maker; even if that’s what they were.
Watching him move was like seeing art alive. He was perfect in the casual way of one who had been surrounded by beauty for too long.
Demilade bit her lip.
Isn’t it a sin to look so deliciously masculine?
Ooze such raw sex appeal?
“Are you good?”
He had walked back to her.
“I get claustrophobic and you were right in their middle. Plus, I was enjoying a nice view.”
Ifekunle lowered his head but Demilade averted his gaze. Her subtle admission shocked and aroused him. It also eased a strange longing that had awoken since that first kiss. And knowing for certain that he desired her.
He grunted what he hoped sounded like caveman’s approval and took her elbow. Steered her towards the car park and the elderly man who had agreed on a fare to transport them to Dutse.
"Hey Beauty"
Demilade’s lashes fluttered open.
Ifekunle’s face was bare inches from hers. So close to him, the mud brown of his irises had flecks of light brown in their depths. They looked like a brown sea of hidden crystals. She was enchanted.
Ifekunle had only meant to wake Demilade gently.
The long journey seemed to have taken its toll on her; she had slept immediately they drove out of Kano. He would have carried her in to let her rest even longer but he was pretty sure she would kill him if he tried.
Now her eyes were dreamy. Lips slightly parted. And desire stirred under the persuasion of her gaze.
The air in the cab sizzled with electricity and breathing became a strain. Ifekunle's nostrils flared and he found himself inexplicably drawn forward. Closer. He just wanted to tell her they had arrived at the hotel.
His eyes darkened under her gaze. Dimmed. And he assumed the image of a predator.
It fleetingly occurred to her that she was his prey but his head swooped down. Lips claimed hers. And his throaty groan thrummed into her juice-box.
All thoughts of survival dissolved in the moan she breathed back in his mouth.
A cleared throat. No. A cough.
The sound was far off, faaar far off.
When Ifekunle tried to pull away from the magic of their entangled lips, she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. Kept him with her. His tongue warred with hers and she shuddered violently.
Gods! Did you ever create a more delicious human?
The sound again.
A throat clearing. Humor in its depths.
Ifekunle detached his lips from hers, leaned his forehead against hers.
“We’re here. At the hotel”
It took a second to separate his words from the gruffness of his voice. He sounded just as affected as she felt. That was good. She didn’t want to be alone in this mind-numbing lust.
Suddenly thirsty, she licked her lips. He groaned. Deserted her entirely.
She opened her eyes and he was standing by the door. Staring at her with such intent that the hairs on her arms rose. If looks could scorch, the last of her would have been up in flames.
The driver stood some distance behind Ifekunle, smiling indulgently. Demilade realised with some shock that he had been the far-off cough and throat clearing. Shame flamed in the pits of her stomach and she wondered what he must be thinking.
She alighted from the cab. Looked around as they followed the driver’s lead into the hotel. They had been in an open parking lot; very visible to anyone who had come close enough. She grimaced.
Of all ways to embrace juvenile 1lackadaisy? Damn!
Her left hand palmed her face.
It was one thing to be irresistibly drawn to someone she hadn’t seen in twelve years. Another yet to become a crazed hormonal teenager at every touch or, as had just happened, every look.
She sighed.
The vacation had barely started. And it was already showing up a bad idea.
Why am I so out of control around her?
Ifekunle was watching Demilade in his peripheral vision.
Shock wrote itself into her face, then alarm. Disgust took over, handed the baton over to dismay. Emotions that could have her running before he could show her what they could have. Before he could hope to weave a spell like the one she had bound him with.
A sigh. He needed to get a handle on his reaction to her.
“We have only one room; an executive suite”
Ifekunle tapped his fingers on the front desk.
This was the fifth and last choice hotel. One after the other, they had been turned away at the others with news of full capacity. The government was hosting a program that was billed to last the entire week, they had finally found out. In whispers meant for Demilade’s ears only, he gave her the update. She had slept through the hotel-hunt. Eventually he suggested:
“We can catch the last flight back to Lagos or go to Kano”
Demilade’s eyebrow lifted.
Certainly Ifekunle didn’t expect they had come so far only to turn back?
“Can we see the room?”
Ifekunle’s jaw fell.
Why was Demilade smiling serenely at the front desk officer like she hadn’t just suggested they might take the single room available? What was she up to?
“The executive suite is one of our best rooms. It’s just God that said you’ll meet it. The Oga they boo
ked it for called her in-laws when she arrived and, you know our people, they came and took her.”
“They did?!”
“Yes o! They said it’s a taboo for respectable women to sleep in hotels. In this age and time. Can you imagine that?”
Demilade made a sound of distress. She could imagine .
What she didn't want to imagine was if he stopped talking. She needed the conversation to save her from Ifekunle and the attention she could feel him demanding. His eyes were boring questions into her in the too-small elevator.
“Thank you o! Is it everywhere they have house? We made sure to tell them though that this is not a brothel. If they want to take their wife no one will stop them. But they can’t insult the reputation we’ve built for over twenty years. We take care of people and families long ways from home”
Demilade smiled at the bellboy's passionate defence of the hotel. Grinned at his pointed statement of their mission. It was rare that low cadre staff spoke so possessively. She wondered if the management was staff oriented or family, but it was Ifekunle who asked:
“You’ve worked here for twenty years?”
“I was born here, in the house Big Grandpa built for my father before it grew into a staff quarters.”
Pride and nostalgia deepened his voice.
Demilade half-turned to share a look with Ifekunle. Unless the room was awful, they were going to take it.
* * *
1. Lackadaisy: Something Demilade says. Related to the word 'lackadaisical'
Chapter 14
“Penny for your thoughts”
“Pennies? I’m not cheap and you’re not poor”
It was the most ludicrous reply to the old cliché Demilade had ever heard. It struck her jaw open and eyes wide with shock. Then her jaws worked usucessfully to say something till she gave up.
Laughter bubbled like boiling starch, spilled, and didn't give respite till her stomach cramped.
Hiccupping, tears down her face, she fell against Ifekunle. He was backed against the balcony railing he had been staring over before her offer of worthless money for his dark, very salacious thoughts.
Her soft lushness pressed into his ripped front and he stiffened. Groaned.
“You probably shouldn’t...”
“Shouldn’t?”
She moved sinuously against him and his thoughts scrambled. He shut his eyes. Fisted the palms in his pockets.
“You won't do the kissy kissy thing again?”
Ifekunle shook his head; crazed with lust for this woman he was suddenly too scared to take. She was playing with him, he knew. Teasing. But he was an unattended explosive around her.
The image of her reaction in the car-park was seared into his brain. He didn’t know how many of that she could take before getting skittish. And he hadn't found the control switch for managing his reaction to her.
He couldn’t risk losing her.
“What if I want the kissy kissy thing?”
Her arms went around his neck. Pressed her lush breasts against him.
Ifekunle forgot to breathe.
Goodness!
If this was how Eve offered Adam the darn apple...
“Demilade”
“Hmm?”
She inserted a thigh between his spread legs. Nudged his throbbing erection.
“Apes!”
He untangled her arms from his neck. Bolted to the other end of the balcony so fast, Demilade’s jaw fell. She blinked too many times per second.
“Wait, what?!”
He didn’t answer the shock in her voice.
His heart was racing and the stupid erection she had played with wanted to tear through his pants.
“You still say apes instead of regular swear words?”
He grinned like a child who had been caught with fingers in a cookie jar. It tempered the raging lust threatening his air supply and discipline.
“It’s the only word my girlfriend isn’t averse to me cursing with.”
Jealousy assailed Demilade unexpectedly. He was referring to his mother, she knew. But she wondered if he ever thought of claiming her like he did the woman who bore him. The woman he unabashedly adored.
“I know. Mummy’s boys are to be avoided like the plague. Sue me”
Ifekunle had seen her frown. It was an expression he had come to recognise, expect, even enjoy. After all, what self respecting adult male chose his mother’s influence over peer pressure in habitual matters?
“That’s not what I was thinking. We are wise to defer to our parents’ counsel. Especially those given in love and which hurt nothing more than our street credibility”
He gaped, disbelieving.
“So the frown was what, coincidence?”
She smiled impishly and her lashes lowered.
“If you offered a penny I could be convinced to tell”
Her transformation to shy schoolgirl stripped his guard. He was walking towards her before he realised he’d moved.
His arms went on either side of her; caged her to the balcony railing. He bowed. Inhaled the flowery perfume of whatever was in her hair. Nipped her earlobe.
“How about that kissy kissy thing you wanted?”
Demilade bit her lower lip.
Ifekunle brushed her lips with his. Held back.
“Is that a yes?"
Demilade felt woozy with wanting.
She nodded but he stepped backward. Frowning.
"You have to use your words, Woman”
The thought that she would expire without his kiss freed the energy she needed to get the word from her mind’s haze past her lips.
“Yes yes ye...”
A growl sounded in Ifekunle’s throat. His head swooped down and his lips captured Demilade’s.
Goodness! How did I live without the sweetness of these lips?
He’d meant to nibble and tease but he was angling his head to gain deeper access. Her tongue sought his and he shivered. Groaned. He gathered her body to his. Ground against her. Demilade’s fingers traced his spinal column and he gasped. Extricated his lips from hers. Leaning his forehead against hers, he submitted himself to her fingers licking flames up his body.
“Demi...”
She licked the raging pulse at his jugular, grazed it with her teeth. His cock started to throb like a bass drum.
Sweet apes! What was she doing to him?
“Room service!”
“Fuck off!”
They must have missed the knocks but Demilade’s outburst shocked Ifekunle. He burst into laughter that infuriated Demilade who scowled at him. Her head cradled against his chest, he walked into the room.
With a calm he couldn't have believed he possessed, he replied the service staff on the other side of the door.
“We didn’t call”
“It’s complimentary dinner Sir”
Ifekunle recognised the bell boy’s voice. Whispered to Demilade.
“Cursing out little boys doing their jobs ehnn, Demilade?”
She burrowed deeper into his chest, ashamed. Ifekunle opened the door, his best attempt at a friendly smile on his face.
“Can we request for it later, please?”
The young man’s jaw fell as he imagined what he had interrupted.
“Yes. Of course. I...”
“And she’s sorry for yelling. Aren’t you, Lade?”
Heat crawled up Demilade’s neck but she nodded agreement, grateful her face was buried against his chest. She would make him pay later.
The door shut and back to just the two of them, Ifekunle leaned against it.
Demilade rubbed against him. Ready to exert revenge. Impatient to hear his dark sounds of desire that had her juice box quivering.
But Ifekunle held her wrist when her hand rose to caress his face.
“I won’t want to stop, Demilade.”
Goose pimples popped all over Demilade.