Making Scandal (The Essien Trilogy, #2)

by Kiru Taye

  "And will you let me pamper you, however I see fit?" Mischief had returned in his eyes.

  She smiled. She liked his pampering.

  "Yes," she managed to say in a breathless voice.

  "Good." His fingers gripped her nape and his mouth descended on hers, sealing their agreement in a hot, bruising kiss.

  A dull thud confirmed that her bag had slipped off her hand and dropped on the floor. She forgot where she needed to be and where she was. Her whole focus became Mark. Here and now. She stretched her hands upward, parting the lapels of his suit to find the soft cotton of his shirt beneath. A groan rang in her ears. Had it been from her or him?

  A loud beeping made him lift his head. He inhaled a long breath and closed his eyes briefly. Then he reached into his suit pocket and withdrew his phone.

  "Life has intruded," he said. "Time to go conquer the world."

  He winked at her and picked her bag from the floor before handing it to her. With his hand on the small of her back, he led her out of the apartment. They took the lift in silence down to the lobby.

  Outside, a black Mercedes Executive mini-limousine waited, the uniformed chauffeur holding the door open. She slid in. The inside smelled of leather and luxury. Mark spoke to the man briefly before joining her in the car.

  She checked her phone for messages and glanced at the time. Six-thirty.

  Lesson number four—Mark kept his word.

  Chapter Eight

  "I'm taking you away for the weekend," Mark breathed against satin smooth skin as he kissed a slow path up Faith's leg. "Pack a small bag."

  Below him, Faith anchored herself onto her elbows and lifted her upper body, her left brow quirked up. "Where...? Why?"

  Questions. She always had them, spontaneity never being her thing, though she had relaxed a whole lot since they started dating. Since the morning after the first time they'd had sex and he'd persuaded her to let him pamper her as he pleased.

  Holding down her legs, he swiped the back of her left knee with his tongue. A long, drawn-out moan filled the air. How he loved that sound. A cry of surrender. A sign of her capitulation, if only for a short while. And he'd wrung it out of her. At times like this, the urge to channel his inner Neanderthal and pound his chest grew.

  Instead, he curled his lips in a triumphant smile and licked the other knee, eliciting another moan from her.

  "Why? You refuse to be seen anywhere in Lagos with me. I can't take you out to dinner or to the theatre or movies. I can't take you to a party or to a club." His frustration crept into his words.

  She held his gaze, her brown eyes swirling with emotions. Desire. Sadness. Remorse.

  "Mark, I'm sorry." She closed her eyes and her sigh floated in the air.

  He pulled himself up and ghosted his lips over hers. "Don't be. You made your concerns clear right from the start and I accepted those conditions."

  True. He had accepted her terms, as frustrating as they were. He'd never had to hide a girlfriend in the past, not even as a teenager. His parents had always wanted their sons to be open about the kind of company they kept. He was permitted to introduce a girl to his mother. Although these days, he didn't take a girl to his parents’ house. He changed them so often it wasn't even worth the effort.

  Until Faith.

  This weekend would be their official one-month anniversary. He didn't even want to closely examine the fact that he remembered the date they'd first had sex. Perhaps it was because it had taken him a year to persuade her to let him in. He didn't care.

  Fact remained, they'd dated for four weeks, most of which had been spent either at his apartment or hers. They needed a change of scenery.

  "I know," she whispered, her eyes still closed. "But I still feel guilty about depriving you from the things you enjoy doing. You can still do those things. Just take someone else."

  Leaning back, he sat on his heels between her spread legs. Taken aback by her words, he crossed his arms over his chest. This was a first, as far as he was concerned. A woman giving him the permission to take another woman on an evening out. Did she really think so little about their relationship?

  Something stabbed his chest. Why did the thought hurt? He shouldn't care, if she didn't. So he enjoyed her company. She brightened up his day like sunshine, tasted as sweet as honey, and smelled as soothing as lavender.

  Still, she was just a woman. And women couldn’t be trusted. This was just another lay. He would move on one day. Focus on the here and now.

  His gaze trawled over Faith’s body arched as if in offering to him. Beautiful. Lush lips, full ripe breasts, narrow waist, flared hips, fleshy thighs. His very own heaven.

  "Mark?"

  He stared at her face puckered in a frown. And it hit him. As much as he wanted to delve in and continue as if her statement didn't bother him, he couldn’t second-guess himself. Not for her. Not for any woman.

  "Did you mean it?"

  "What?" Her frown deepened.

  "That I could take another woman to dinner or the movies."

  Her eyes flicked to the left and downwards, her lower lip pulled into the corner. "Well, it's only to make sure you still do the things you enjoy. I mean, it's not as if we're married."

  Lips pursed, he nodded. And then he uncrossed his arms and lowered them back onto her thighs, his grip a little firmer than before.

  "Thank you for being so magnanimous." He yanked her thighs further apart, pushing her ankles back until her sex was bared to him, glistening, swollen, and trembling, waiting for his attention. He couldn't shake the anger simmering in his veins. His mother had been willing to share a man with another woman. To be the other woman.

  What was it with women, anyway? Then they'd complain because a man didn't want to commit more than just the occasional booty call.

  "Hold on to your ankles."

  "Mark?"

  "Do it, sweetheart. I'll make it worth your while." He winked at her.

  She gave a nervous smile and grabbed onto her ankles. Good she complied, but she was right to be nervous. Playing fair didn't always get you what you wanted. And he wanted something right now from her. Her total attention and honesty.

  Parting her lower lips with his left fingers, he circled around her clit with his index finger but not touching it and then trailed a wet path down her slit to the crack of her bottom. She whimpered and canted her hips.

  "As I was saying," he carried on as if they were just chatting and he wasn't torturing her with his ministrations. "It's generous of you to be willing to share me with another woman. But the thing is...I'm not that generous. I'm not willing to share you with anyone. I want to be the one sitting across from you in a restaurant or sitting next to you in the mezzanine of a theatre. I want to be the one to walk you to your door after our date and give you a kiss good night or good morning, whichever the case. Do you understand?"

  "Yes." Her word came out hoarse, as if she was out of breath.

  "Good." Leaning over, he blew air at her sex and her body trembled. "I'm glad you understand. So I'm going to ask you again. Do you really want me to—" he chose his words carefully "—escort other women on occasions?"

  "No," she gasped.

  A cocky smile curled his lips and satisfaction lightened his chest. He wasn't done yet.

  "Tell me what you want, sweetheart, and I'll give it to you," he hummed against her slit, moisture coating his lips.

  "I want to be the only woman in your life." She quivered. "Well, apart from your relatives and professional colleagues, of course."

  "You are the only woman in my life."

  "Promise?"

  "On my life."

  He eyes gleamed but she fidgeted with the sheet.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "I want something else, as well."

  "Name it."

  "Make me come. Please"

  "With pleasure, sweetheart." Her openness deserved a reward.

  Without ado, he delved back in using his mouth to lick, nip, and suck,
savouring her flavour, while his fingers pumped into her tight wet channel until she was writhing and moaning, the gratifying sound bouncing off the matted walls of his bedroom. She clawed the silk sheets and sang her climax, her body trembling until he'd wrung out the multiple orgasm and her body slumped.

  Sheathed in protection, he lined up with her entrance and thrust in. Heat clenched around him. Constricting, rippling, wet heat. Drenched him. Tugged him. He had no other option but to slide out and pound into her, his hips thumping her cushiony bottom.

  Fire sparked to life in his veins. Any time he held still, she wriggled, nudging his body heat to fever pitch, driving his control to the edge. When he sucked on her fleshy breasts or tugged her nipples, her whimpers just drove him insane.

  Soon, he was ready to ride the wave but he wanted her there with him. So he reached between their sweat-slicked bodies and pushed down on her button with his thumb. The ripples of her orgasm pulled his over the edge and he gripped her hips, arms bunched and head tilted back as he roared his release.

  For seconds, he lay slumped above her, holding his body on his elbows so he didn’t crush her as he caught his breath. Reclining and limp, she appeared sated. Replete.

  His breath caught. Droopy lids lifted and smoky brown eyes stared up at him. Her lips curled in a slow smile. She reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

  "Thank you," she said when they pulled apart, panting.

  "Why are you thanking me?" When his strength returned to his body, he slid out of her, holding onto the condom. Standing, he disposed of the latex.

  He'd made her a promise that he would protect her from the risk of pregnancy and he needed to make sure he kept to his word. Her protection was his responsibility.

  "For giving me what I wanted." Her smile looked coquettish.

  "Sweetheart, giving you what you want is why I'm here." He settled back in the bed beside her.

  "No one has ever said that to me before. You sound so sincere."

  "I wouldn’t say it unless I meant it." He pulled her into his arms and tucked the sheet around them. "When I was a teenager, my father taught me a phrase—a promise made is a promise kept. I've lived by those words since I became an adult."

  He stroked hair away from her forehead and placed a kiss in the middle.

  "Those are wise words to live by. I'll hold you to them."

  "Please do," he whispered against her skin.

  A few heartbeats later she asked, "So where are we going for this dirty weekend?"

  "It's a secret."

  "But I need to know so I can make travel arrangements, buy tickets, you know."

  He lifted his head and eyed her. "No need to worry about it. This is my treat. It's all paid for. All you need to do is show up."

  "Mark, you know I'm uncomfortable having you pay for everything." She turned her face away. "I really don't want it to seem I'm with you for what I can get out of you."

  He'd never been with a woman reluctant to let him treat her. In fact, his exes were never shy about making requests for gifts or even treats, and he'd never turned any request down. Women needed pampering. And money bought the good things in life.

  He tucked his knuckle under her chin and tugged until she faced him again.

  "Faith, I know you are not with me for my money. But I'm a wealthy man and I can afford to pay for this trip."

  "It's not just about—"

  "Look, how about a compromise? Any treats or surprises I come up with, I pay for, and if you choose to treat us to any surprises of your own, you pay for them yourself. Sounds fair?"

  She pouted before nodding.

  "Good. So just pack a small bag. You will need comfortable walking shoes and perhaps a pair of hiking boots and an outdoor jacket."

  Their trip out was uneventful. He'd arranged for a car to pick Faith up and drop her at the heliport in Victoria Island, close to his apartment. The helicopter ride took just ten minutes as opposed to the two hours it would have taken them to get from the Island to Ikeja on a Friday evening.

  As they flew into the domestic airport by helicopter, they didn't need to go through the normal check-in channels and were fast-tracked through to the lounge. Luckily, they didn't have long to board the plane and settled next to each other. An hour's flight out to Calabar and then they took another helicopter ride out to their destination.

  The Obudu Mountain Resort sparkled in the darkness, matching the huge grin on Faith's face as they arrived. Warmth spread through his body. Convincing her to come away for the weekend had been a good idea.

  They were met at the helipad by the resort manager who greeted and ushered them to their villa. His security detail walked behind with their bags.

  The wooden villa stood on stilts built into the mountain face and was filled with modern conveniences.

  "This is a piece of heaven away from home," Faith said and kissed him when they were left alone again.

  "Does that mean you're glad to be here?" He pulled her close.

  "Absolutely."

  The weekend passed blissfully for both of them with no worries of paparazzi or being recognised. Even his bodyguard kept a discreet distance while they were exploring. They took the cable car across the mountain, getting a breathtaking view of the lush green landscape high up in the Obudu Mountains. They strolled through the wildlife sanctuary, watched water cascade down crystal clear waterfalls.

  On Saturday evening, they enjoyed dinner outdoors on the mountain restaurant and watched the sun set in the horizon.

  "We're so high up I feel I can reach out and touch the sky."

  "You probably can, if you stand on my shoulders." He winked at her.

  "Oh, you." She giggled.

  The soft, tinkly sound poured fuel on the flame that had been burning within him all day. He really wanted to get her indoors, but they needed food after all the activities they'd done that day.

  "You know this is the first time I've had a holiday of sorts with anyone."

  "But I thought you said you've been to London."

  "Yeah, for studies and work. And yes, I took a two-week break a couple of years ago before I started working as Strategy Director, but then, I travelled on my own."

  He frowned. "Are you saying you never went on holiday with your family when you were a child? Not even to your hometown?"

  Every city-dwelling Nigerian child ventured to his or her hometown village at least once in their lifetime. As tradition, Nigerians were big on their ancestry and roots. Even he remembered holidays in Calabar, his father's hometown.

  "Technically, Benin is my hometown. It's only thirty minutes from my father's house to the Brown family compound. So I guess in my head, I never really saw any visits there as a holiday. Not in the sense of getting away from it all."

  "Oh, I see."

  "What about you? Did you have family holidays as a child?"

  "Yes, we did visit Calabar frequently when I was growing up. I enjoyed my time there."

  "Ebony told me her family used to holiday with yours in London. When Alex was born, she was showing me some old photographs of her and Felix as children which her mum had in albums."

  Mark leaned away and swallowed. His back stiffened and the urge to get up and walk away rose. He lowered his hands and gripped onto the arms of the chair, fighting his rising gloom.

  Faith didn't know what she was doing by talking about the past. To her, it was but a harmless reference.

  Yet, the old hurt rose inside and hunched his shoulders.

  "Mark, what's wrong?"

  "Nothing," he said in a stiff voice and rolled his shoulders.

  "Tell me what's gone wrong. You look as if I've just killed your pet or done something terrible."

  "It's okay. It doesn't matter."

  "Well, it matters to me that something has upset you. Mbok."

  "What did you just say?"

  "Mbok. That's how to say 'please' in Efik, isn't it? Did I get it wrong?" She fiddled with her
wristwatch as she frowned.

  Joy grew within him and he let it curl his lips in a smile. "You got it right. I was just shocked to hear you speak Efik."

  He reached across and pulled her hands up and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

  "For that, you deserve an explanation." He stood. "Let go for a stroll and I'll explain."

  Hand in hand, they walked at a gentle pace, watching the night settle in around them, their path lit by floor-level street lamps, the only sound that of chirping crickets.

  He exhaled a sigh and tried to explain his previous jumbling emotions.

  "I don't know if you know this already, but when I was born, my mother was not married to my father."

  "I didn't know that," she said as she looked up at him, her eyes widened in surprise.

  Many people who didn't know his family history would be surprised by the knowledge, too. This history formed a huge part of who he was, layered in pain and disappointment.

  "Dad was married to Felix's mother and was having an affair with my mother. Don't get me wrong, he was a good father. Well, as good as he could be since I only saw him once a month. But he made sure we had everything I needed. I went to the best schools, had the most expensive toys. My mother even took me on holidays abroad."

  He paused and swallowed.

  "But you see, those you refer to, the family ones which Felix enjoyed in his formative years. I never had them. Because while Chief was my father, he was only an occasional dad. I'd be lucky to see him two weekends in a row. And we never travelled together. Not until we were all living together after Felix's mum passed away."

  Faith squeezed his hand. "That must've been very tough on you."

  "It was. At a point, I resented Felix. He had what I wanted. My father's attention." His mother's competitiveness hadn't helped, either. She'd resented that his father hadn't divorced his wife. And her resentment had seeped into him. He'd taken it out on Felix.

  He heaved a heavy sigh and scrubbed a hand on his head.

  "Fact remains, it wasn't Felix's fault. He was a victim of the situation as much as I was. But what the whole situation taught me was that if I ever have children, I would be in their lives one hundred percent of the time."