by Kiru Taye
She walked to the mirror and looked at her reflection with determination. Dinner with Paul would be just talk. She’d make sure of it. The restaurant environment would provide a good barrier. They would hash this thing between then out finally. She’d tell him things should be purely professional between them. And that would be it.
Feeling better with her decision, Ijay returned to her desk and concentrated on work. The focus on the project was a good distraction. She didn’t think about Paul again as she worked on estimates and resources she needed to deliver the plan. As she worked she became more convinced that things would go well. She just needed to get a better understanding of the key products.
The day flew by. At lunchtime, Pamela took her to a local restaurant. They’d already been out to other restaurants as Pamela tried to help her settle in Abuja. Today she settled for a plate of jollof rice, roast chicken and a side salad. It was a huge contrast to her afternoon meals in London. There she spent lunch mostly at her desk with a sandwich. Here most of the office was empty at lunchtime as people went out to lunch.
Pamela had been really helpful, showing her the local amenities and where to get a local sim-card so she didn’t have to pay for roaming charges. Yesterday, Ijay found out about Millennium Park. Some people chose to have a picnic out there if they preferred.
After work, the car service dropped her back at her hotel. Her apprehension level rose as she prepared for her dinner date with Paul, the butterflies returning to her stomach. To ease her edge nerves, she focused on the fact that her meeting with Paul would be a good thing. So that she could finally flush him out of her system.
She showered. Deciding what to wear was a problem. She’d been more focused on getting out of Paul’s office that she’d forgotten to ask him the dress code for the evening. Finally, she settled for a black tunic dress and peep-toe shoes. It was stylish without being over the top.
Just before seven her phone buzzed. She picked it up. It was a text message from Paul.
I’m downstairs.
Her heart jumped and raced off in agitation, her palms suddenly feeling clammy. She wiped them on a towel and looked at herself in the mirror. Her straightened hair fell on her shoulders in a layered bob, her face with a touch of light make-up.
Stay calm. You can do this, Ijay.
Taking several deep breaths, she picked her clutch purse and left her hotel room.
Chapter Ten
Paul strode into the lobby lounge of the Hilton hotel, his strides long and hasty. The restlessness that had plagued him had returned. Impatient, his blood whooshed with excitement of seeing Ijay; touching her, tasting her. He’d been tolerant by waiting three days since her arrival in Abuja.
Moreover he’d had to make sure Charles’ evenings were occupied. He’d taken both of them out to dinner the second night and last night he’d hung out with Charles catching up on old times. He’d avoided asking Charles about Frederick’s engagement. He wanted to speak with Ijay about it first. While Charles had been around, Paul had been careful not the get personal with her.
Not that he ever conducted any kind of personal affairs in the office environment. Whenever he stepped over the threshold of his business premises, it was always business first. Business and pleasure had always been separate entities before. He’d never been tempted to merge the two. However, he’d been tempted with Ijay. Greatly tempted.
Sitting next to her every day, trying to concentrate on work when his body ached for her had been pure torture. Her elusive scent clung to the air around him every time he inhaled. Even this morning as he sat next to her, it had taken all his will power not to reach across to her.
Whenever she was thinking, she took her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing it worriedly. He’d wanted to run his tongue along the hassled rim; wanted to pull it into his mouth and suck it like lollies. He’d ached so much he’d resorted to keeping his folder on his lap to cover the evidence of his torment.
“Hello, Paul. Fancy meeting you here.”
Paul broke his stride and swivelled in the direction of the sing-song female voice he recognised. Looking tall, dark and slender in a navy blue skirt suit, Kate stood before him confirming what he’d already suspected. She sashayed in his direction and wrapped her arms around his body in a lingering hug. Her musky perfume floated around him. She lifted her lips to kiss him. He turned his face at the last moment, giving her his cheek instead.
“Hi Kate. How are you? What are you doing here?” he asked in a pleasant tone, when he stepped back out of her reach. He hadn’t seen her since she moved her things out of his apartment. It was a surprise seeing her again. Not that he let that affect the way he treated her. In fact, he was in a good mood about seeing her again. If she hadn’t left him, he wouldn’t have gotten together with Ijay that night in London. He would’ve never cheated on Kate.
“I’m doing well, thanks. I’m here on a conference and this is my hotel for the week. I noticed you were headed for the lounge. Shall we grab a seat?”
“Sure,” Paul agreed. Suspicion rose in his mind about Kate’s motives. The last time he’d seen her she’d been in a rush to get away from him and had refused to spend the night at his place. Her sudden friendliness set alarm signals off within his highly guarded senses. However, it wouldn’t hurt to have a chat with her. They’d got on quite well when they’d been together. There was no reason not to be civil with each other.
They walked to the seating area. Paul waited for Kate to sit first. She sat on a two-seater sofa and smiled invitingly at him. He chose a single-seater with arm rests. Undaunted, she scooted to the end of the sofa closer to him. Reaching across, she placed her manicured hand on his arm.
“It’s been such a long time, Paul. How are you doing? What are you doing here?” She waved other hand expressively.
“I’m doing all right. I’m just here to pick someone up for dinner,” he remarked nonchalantly, lifting his shoulders in a lazy shrug.
“Oh...is this your new flame?” she asked. He saw the lines around her lips tighten though she still maintained the smile. Her hard eyes told a different story. She didn’t like the idea of him seeing someone else. Not that he cared, anyway.
“She’s not a flame. Just a PR consultant working on the POD project,” he said dismissively.
The hard lines on her face eased out. Lowering her eyelids coyly in a gesture that would’ve had his heart racing in the past, she leaned closer and caressed his arm through his jacket, moving her hand up and down on it. “In that case, why don’t we have dinner tomorrow? I heard about a new restaurant that’s just opened we could try out.”
Today, Kate’s calculated deference had little effect on him, except confirm his need for someone else. “Why?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me any longer.”
“I know. I was a bit hasty in my actions that day. Blame it on my hormones or something. I wasn’t thinking straight,” she cajoled.
“Having dinner with you’ll change nothing. I still don’t want to get married.” He hardened his tone so she’d understand. Nothing had changed between them. He didn’t foresee it changing. Ever.
“I totally understand. Look, I’m a career girl and I love my life. Who needs marriage anyway? Come on, what do you say? We were good together.” She uncrossed and parted her legs slightly. Paul couldn’t miss her blatant provocation. It was a gesture he’d instructed her to adopt whenever they were together privately.
In the bedroom as well as the boardroom, Kate was very savvy. They had been good together. After an initial reluctance, she’d eventually taken to his proclivities like a duck to water. It was probably why their affair lasted longer than any other he’d had previously. That she could give head the way no other woman had been able to was an extra bonus he couldn’t deny.
However, he now craved something different. Someone who’s touch was tentative, yet stimulating. Someone docile, yet challenging. Someone still willing to learn a thing or two. He didn’t want a pro. H
e wanted Ijay.
With his peripheral vision, he saw someone approaching. He glanced up and saw Ijay. She was in a short silk black dress that skimmed her curves and stopped above her knees, exposing long legs heightened by stilettos. His heart stopped, like it’d done the first night he’d seen her standing over the threshold of the bar’s balcony. His blood bubbled with enthusiasm. He moved his arm away from Kate and sat up straight.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your tempting offer, Kate. Have a great evening. I plan to.” He stood, ignoring the frustrated glare Kate gave him. He turned his attention to Ijay and walked to her with a beaming smile.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered against Ijay’s skin as he brushed his lips on her silky cheek. Inhaling deeply, he allowed her enticing fragrance to rouse his body and felt the timely pulse of his need before moving back. “So beautiful, I’m persuaded to skip dinner and eat you instead.” He winked at her.
She gasped in a soft voice, her chest rising rapidly. Her chocolate eyes widened with heat and surprise; her high cheeks peaking to a dark rouge colour.
Her gaze lowered to his chest demurely. “Thank you,” she murmured.
She couldn’t possibly know what that gesture did to him. The vice that seemed to clamp his chest whenever Ijay was around wrung tighter, adding to the rigid ache in his groin. He willed his body to relax. Otherwise he’d be walking like John Wayne.
“Shall we head off?” he asked when he got his body under control.
She nodded, biting her lower lip anxiously. He suppressed a groan and looked away from her. He had to get her out of the hotel with so many beds close by. Not that he’d be patient enough to reach a bed, if she carried on enticing him the way she was doing.
Placing his hand on the small of her back, he guided outside into the warm evening air.
***
The restaurant was busy when they walked in. They sat in a secluded corner of a moderate and friendly Nigerian restaurant. They’d been ushered to a private booth with no other diners near them by the owner who Paul said was a good friend of his.
There was low African music playing in the background, paintings of African landscapes and people hung on the walls. The atmosphere felt authentically African. She loved the vibe.
Yet somehow she hadn’t expected Paul to take her to a place like this. She’d thought he’d take her somewhere more upmarket with a European menu. This was one surprise from him she liked.
Instead of sitting across from her, Paul had insisted on sitting next to her. They were so close, their thighs almost touched. They might as well be touching skins because she felt the heat exuding from his body. It spread out from her sides and wrapped her in his spice.
Concentrating on her Fish Pepper Soup starter was a chore, when her body was awakening, her breasts were getting heavier. The ache in her core was becoming more insistent.
It had started when she’d walked into the hotel lounge and saw Paul talking to a woman. The woman was seated seductively close to Paul, her hand caressing his arm. The fierce jealous pang that had swept through Ijay had surprised her. She hadn’t expected to feel that way about seeing Paul with another woman.
Truthfully, she hadn’t given it much thought until tonight. At the back of her mind she’d accepted that Paul would be seeing other women since he hadn’t bothered contacting her in six months. Yet seeing another woman touch him in such a personal provocative way had made her want to rage at the woman.
That was so crazy considering she was engaged to someone else. Even if she wasn’t, Paul had made it quite clear that he wouldn’t have a relationship with her since she lived in London and he lived in Nigeria. It was never going to work. She’d accepted that, surely. That’s why she was wearing another man’s ring. So why was she getting hung up on Paul?
Focus on mundane things. She looked at the bowl of Isiewu –a delicacy made from goat head and spices—that Paul was devouring enthusiastically. It provided the inspiration to get away from her body’s response to Paul.
“You know I’ve missed all this,” she said a little bit more enthusiastically than she’d planned.
Paul’s lips lifted in a smile, his eyes glinting with knowing amusement. “You have? But there are Nigerian restaurants in London.”
“Yes, I know. It’s not exactly the same. I think food cooked in Nigeria is more authentic.”
Placing his fork back on the plate, Paul nodded. “You are right,” he agreed. “I’m always eager to get back to Nigeria when I’m away. Despite all the lovely variety of meals I get to eat when I travel, none of them beat the ones I eat at home. Except one.”
The ominous way he said ‘Except one’ had her stomach in a knot of excitement she shouldn’t feel. It sounded as if he was referring to her. She debated asking him what the meal was. That intense gaze he fixed on her, had her skin tingling. She bit her lip and lowered her gaze, seeking to hide his effect on her from him.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what the meal was?” Paul asked in a low voice, leaning closer to her. His thigh rubbed against hers. She drew in breath sharply, her mouth drying out. As her core pulsed, she shifted restlessly in her seat. He placed his hand on her thigh, the heat from his palm scorching her skin.
“Are you wet for me, sweet Ijay?”
Sweet Ijay! Two tiny words that disintegrated her resolve accompanied by five words that had her body steaming at their eroticism and directness. Lord help her, but she’d missed the way he said those words like she was rare and precious to him. Those words arrested her and kept her ensnared.
Fixated by his arousing touch, she held her breath as his hand travelled up her thigh, shifting her dress up. If she wasn’t wet before, she surely was now. She felt her core weep, soaking her thong.
He was so close. So close.
His hand rested at the junction of her hip and thigh. She swallowed the lump in her throat and closed her eyes. Touch me! Her body screamed taking over her normally rational mind. Surely she wasn’t being rational any longer. They were sitting in a restaurant where the waiter or anyone else could turn up at any moment.
“I can smell your sweet intoxicating fragrance. I want to taste you so much,” he whispered in a gruff voice, his fingers skimming the edge of her lace undies. “Say the word, sweet Ijay and I’ll stop. Do you remember the word?”
Automatically, she nodded while still holding her breath. Her mind screamed, Blue! But her body was drowning in sensation, so wound up. If he didn’t touch her soon, she’d commit murder. Just this once and it wouldn’t matter anymore.
Forgive me...I want him to touch me.
His fingers pushed the soaked thong aside and slid inside her. She gripped the edge of the table, her nails digging into the wood. While his fingers slid in and out of her in a painfully slow rhythm, his thumb played a thrilling tune with her swollen bud.
Feverish heat travelled through her body. Her body raced toward the edge, ecstasy only moments away. She couldn’t wait to fly off the edge. To have her first climax in over six months. To relieve the tension she’d felt. Not long now. Her body coiled tighter, her breathing coming in shallow gasps.
His hand stopped moving and slipped out of her body. A desperate whimper escaped her lips. She opened her eyes just as Paul lifted hand. His fingers glistened with her juices. He put them into his mouth one after the other and licked.
“You’re as tasty as ever, sweet Ijay,” he drawled.
“Paul...please.” She couldn’t even recognise her own breathy brazen whisper. She looked up at his face, pleading with her eyes. He really wasn’t just going to stop now, was he? His eyes lost their fiery spark and hardened into dark rocks.
“Soon, first I want to know why you ran,” he said the words casually but his expression was brooding. It was like a splash of cold water on her hot skin. She snapped out of her lusty haze, annoyance taking precedent in her mind.
“What do you mean? I never ran,” she snapped irritably.
“So what do you call
leaving me with such a lousy note?”
“What? I explained my reason in the note. I didn’t want an awkward moment in the morning after the great evening we’d had. I enjoyed the evening. What more did you want?”
Her body vibrated with anger. Anger at Paul for playing her body against her. Anger with herself for not having any self-control where Paul was concerned.
“I wanted you to be there when I woke up. I wanted to kiss you and make love to you in the morning.”
She looked away from him, focusing on a painting on the wall. “And just prolong the inevitable? I wanted a clean break. I didn’t want to have to get hung up on another man who didn’t want to be with me long-term. You’re the one who said you didn’t want a long-distance relationship.”
“I did. But...”
Something in his voice made her glance at Paul. A tortured glaze swept through his dark eyes.
“You’ve changed your mind?” Dare she hope?
“No. I’d thought about it and assumed we could come to some arrangement only to wake up and find you gone.”
“What? So why didn’t you call me? Or do something? It’s been over six months, Paul,” she said, her voice laced with her frustrations. Why was he doing this now?
“Do I really need to remind you of what you wrote in that note? It was unequivocal.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and spread it on the table. “Look at it.”
Ijay looked at the rumpled paper and recognised her writing. It was the note she’d written on that fateful morning. He’d kept it!
“Can you see what’s missing from it?” his angry gaze moving from the paper to her face. She was too stunned to say anything and just shook her head.
“There’s no call me or I’ll call you in there. This note says quite plainly you didn’t want me to contact you,” he emphasised his words by stabbing his finger on the paper.