After picking up the gauntlet, we had such a blast. We drank and let loose. Then more drinks started coming, even without us ordering. We were doing what we were good at- attracting attention.
Soon guys were all over our table and the game finally began. When the make out session started getting hot at the table, I agreed to dance with the guy on my left and we joined in the bumpin and grindin.
Before, I would tease my catch with my body, now I don’t even want him touching restricted areas.
I’m thinking and I don’t want to do that either. I’m not drunk enough. If I’m going to survive this night without a conscience I need to get really drunk.
I find myself making out with this guy and it’s suddenly too much, I can’t stand it. I push him away, wear a sexy smile and almost race to my seat.
The table is almost empty, just Michelle and a guy are flirting with each other, the others have probably left.
“Chelle, have you seen my phone. I can’t find it in my purse.”
She looks away from the guy and focuses on me.
“Check my purse. It was ringing like hell, we had to switch it off," she says and turns back to the guy who’d been watching her the whole time.
Something about the way they looked at each other. Like they both knew the game the other played and were confident in their own skills.
Recipe for disaster if you ask me.
I look away from them in search of Michelle’s purse. When I find it, I search for my phone and there it is. I tell her I’m heading home and barely receive a nod from her.
I power on my phone when I get to my car. Closing the door after getting in, I check the calls. Mike!
Gosh! He’d called several times. The last call had been received by one of the girls. I’m not ready to imagine what must have been said to him, especially in their drunken state.
I call my driver even though it’s past one, I have to get home.
The pounding on the door wakes me. Who would drop by at this time of the day?
I check the bedside clock; 9:28am.
Perfect.
My head is pounding, I want to die! I’ll kill that person that’s trying to bury me in pain.
With no thoughts as to how I’m dressed, I walk out of my room, to the parlor and open the front door.
“Some people still sleep by this time you know," I say bad-temperedly. Mike just looks me over, taking in my scattered hair, to the flimsy robe not properly belted. My camisole and panties barely concealed.
“Are you okay?” he finally asks, stepping in and closing the door behind him.
I move to the kitchen and start preparing my hangover remedy.
“Do I look okay?” I retort.
“No, no you don’t actually.” He’s being honest. I glare at him.
“I heard you were at the club.”
I watch his face to know what his intent is. He keeps it blank. A flash of the dance floor, the makeout session go through my head and guiltily I look away, busying my hands.
I’ve done nothing wrong, we’re just friends. But my heart isn’t getting that.
“I have somewhere I need to be.” I say after drinking the mixture, ignoring the ‘club’ talk.
I try to leave the kitchen but he’s standing in my way.
“What are you doing?” I ask. My hands are shaking. I hide them behind me.
“What do you think? Did you do anything stupid?” he asks, his tone menacing as he draws closer.
And like what happened many years ago, I don’t know when my hand connected with his face, the sound making me aware of my action.
I’ll admit his words got under my skin but my guilt pushed me to go overboard. Before I can apologise he says,
“I see somethings never change.”
And just like the slap that happened years ago, the action that followed also took place.
He lifts me up and before you know it, we are meshing lips and tongues together. Teeth clashing like swords before we find our rhythm. Because I still haven’t forgotten what happened after that hot kiss years ago, I hold him tight, my legs around his waist.
“Don’t turn away from me. Please don’t.” I plead and kiss him. His face, his nose, his lips.
“I was just being stubborn. No one can touch me like you or love me.” I catch his eyes and let him see the tears fall. Crying, I bury my face in his neck and hold on. I’m never letting him go.
I feel him stroke my back as he carries me to my room. He lays me on the bed and stretches beside me. I snuggle closer and just breathe him in.
“Steph,” he says softly.
“Shh! Don’t say anything, let’s just stay like this. Don’t let go,” I whisper, my head on his chest.
“I won’t.”
As I relax, I remember someone,
“What about Justin?”
I can feel him smiling and I know he’s happy that I asked about his son. To be honest, I’ve fallen in love with the cute little monster.
“He’s with my sister. I left him with her before coming to check on you. He says to tell you that Four arms is stronger than Superman and when you come home he’ld prove it to you.”
I can’t speak. I just nod. He’d said home, just the three of us.
Like he understands, he places a kiss on my hair.
We stay like that for awhile and soon I fall asleep with his arms around me.
By Vanessa's Writings (Contributor) courtesy: Naijastories.com
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