Chapter 15
Khenji
I leave work early the next day to visit my lawyer, Gregory Deweese. I’m making a big move in my life and want to ensure everything will be in order for this transition.
When I walk in, he gets up from his desk and says, “Khenji—my man—I haven’t seen you in two months of Sundays, bruh. What’s been going on with ya?”
Gregory hails from Alabama, has lived in Encino for over a decade, but the man can’t shake that accent to save his life. He’s a big guy – same height as me but stout like a bouncer would be. People find him intimidating, he once told me, but I never have. The bigger they are, the harder they fall is my mentality, but I’ve never had to worry about that with Gregory. He’s a decent dude for a lawyer.
Cutting straight to the chase, I say, “I’m getting married this weekend.”
“What!”
“Yeah, man. I found the one.”
“Then it’s a good thing you came by here to let me know. I’ll get the prenuptial agreement drawn up right away.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“It better be why you’re here,” he chuckles.
I take a seat and say, “I don’t need one.”
“I beg to differ, Khenji. You’re a billionaire. You’d be a fool if you didn’t protect your assets from this woman, whoever she is. I see this all the time. The man is so blinded by love or maybe blinded by them BBLs—” he cackles, then continues, “—that he doesn’t take the proper precautions to protect his assets and then, BOOM—divorce slaps you in the face and she’s draining you dry. As a hedge fund manager, I would think you’d know better.”
“Listen to me very closely, Gregory—that’s not why I’m here and I do not need a prenuptial agreement.”
He raises a brow. “You’re that confident?”
“I am.”
“And just how long have you known this woman?”
“That doesn’t matter. I stopped by to give you the heads-up on what’s coming. This weekend I’m getting married. In two weeks, I’ll be back in the States, at which time, I’ll be here to sign paperwork. I want her name on the deed to all of my properties, even the ones overseas. I want my will amended—everything will go to her in the event something happens to me, and I want this done expeditiously.”
He sighs and shakes his head. He doesn’t want to do what I’m asking, but since it’s what I’m paying him for, he has no choice but to concede to my wishes.
“Alright, Khenji. I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do.” I stand up and prepare to exit the office.
He asks, “What’s her name?”
“Livia Augustus for now. I’ll see to it that you get a copy of the marriage license.”
After leaving my lawyer’s office, I head straight for home, knowing I’m going home to her and not the cold emptiness. Since she’s been there, my mood has changed for the better. My home is warmer. My life is so much richer. I’m optimistic and for once, I’m actually looking forward to what the future brings.
I open the door to the smell of food. Walking to the kitchen, she’s there wearing a half-shirt and thigh-high biker shorts, cooking. She looks up and sees me and her eyes brighten.
“There’s my handsome fiancé,” she announces, like she’s been waiting for me.
After a running start, she leaps into my arms and closes her arms and legs around me. She squeezes me with everything she has before studying my face and briefly pressing her lips to mine. She flashes one of those cute, innocent smiles. It’s the smile that caught my attention at the mixer. I’ll always remember it.
With her wrapped around me like a vine, I walk toward the nearest wall, press her up against it and give her the kind of kiss that could break her. Her tongue tastes like the food she sampled before I arrived, and that bothers me because I don’t want to taste food. I want to taste her – the unique flavor only she possesses. So, I search for it near the back of her mouth. Then my tongue finds the roof of her mouth.
Ah, there it is.
My baby.
She’s lucky. Her tonsils were next.
I savor her entire mouth like I will always do from now until eternity. I want her so badly, my body aches.
This week will be a testament to my willpower. I’m a virgin, so I’m not hard up for sex. You don’t miss what you never had. However, I do want to experience lovemaking with her. She’s the only woman who brought these desires out of me, and so she’s the only woman who gets to have me.
A few more days and she will.
Marriage will make us official, and then I’ll be waist-deep inside of her, stuck like I’m in quicksand, but not seeking to be rescued. I already have her mind. To me, that’s more important than her body, but I want that too. All of her…
Lowering her to her feet, she fans herself and says, “You must’ve missed me today?”
“I miss you every time I’m away from you, Livia.”
She takes my hand and leads me back to the kitchen.
“What are you doing, sweetheart?”
“Cooking dinner.”
“Livia.” I loosen her grip on my hand and throw one arm around her. “I don’t want you coming home from a long day of work and having to cook. I have a personal chef. We can use him any time we want.”
“Well, that’s good to know, but I would like to cook for us when I have the time, and today, I have the time.” She spins out of my grip and says, “Go get comfortable and come back. We’re having nachos for Taco Tuesday.”
“That’s a thing? Taco Tuesday?”
She chuckles. “Yes. You’ve never heard of it?”
“No.”
“Well, you have now. Look at little ol’ me introducing the billionaire to some new things.”
I grin and say, “I’ll be right back.”
I jog upstairs and take off my shoes, socks, suit jacket, cufflinks, shirt, undershirt, pants and boxers. I put on a black Givenchy T-shirt and a pair of gray joggers and just when I’m ready to head back downstairs, I see her undergarments on the floor – a black bra and panties. She must’ve been in a hurry to cook. I walk over to pick them up. They’re made of see-through lace material. It’s hardly anything – makes me wonder why she even had them on in the first place. I clutch the panties in a fist and bring the material to my nose.
“Ah…” I moan and close my eyes. Her pheromones have me deleerit. “Mmm,” I say shamelessly as I take in her scent. I knew I was obsessed, but the mere fact that I’m standing here with her underwear on my face confirms it.
I stuff the panties into my pocket and head downstairs with a smile on my face, thinking about how pretty soon, her scent will be all over this house. And all day long, I’ll feed off of it.
“That looks really good, Livia,” I say as I walk back inside.
She looks up at me and smiles. I wonder if she truly knows the level of my obsession with her, or if she just thinks it’s cute. I want to tell her if she doesn’t want to keep buying underwear, she shouldn’t leave them on the floor because I’m collecting all the ones I find. Instead, I walk over to her, but I don’t have a seat. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her face. I nibble on her ears and her neck. The more I taste, the more I want.
“Mmm, Khen.”
I intentionally graze her neck with my teeth and suck her skin into my mouth.
“Let’s…ooh…oh. Um…” She’s at a loss for words. “Let’s—let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
“Okay,” I hear myself answer, but I don’t release her yet. I hold on a little while longer before letting her go. Then we sit for a meal.
I dive right in, appreciating how good this is. Livia’s good at her job, good with people, and she’s good at cooking. I’m convinced – there’s nothing my beauty can’t do. She’s the perfect wife for me.
“How was your day, Livia?”
“It was good. I had a couple of cancellations, so I used the time to prepare for my absence next week.”
“That’s a good strategy. I rarely have downtime.”
I glance at her neck and see red marks there and ask, “Did I do that to your neck just now?”
“What? Is it red?”
“Yes.”
“Then, yes, you did.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what, Khenji?”
“I—I wasn’t aware that I was biting you so hard.”
“It wasn’t a bite—more like a nibble and there’s nothing to be sorry about. I liked it. I love it when you touch me. When you kiss me. And it’s okay if you want to—you know—bite me.” She smirks.
I take a sip of water and say, “If I ever do anything to hurt you, please tell me. I never want to hurt you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a little pain. It can be pleasurable if administered the right way.”
A low groan travels from my throat. This woman has no idea what she’s doing to me. I clear my throat, wipe my mouth, and say, “Excuse me for a moment.”
“Is everything okay?’
“Yes. I’ll be right back.”
I walk to the bathroom that’s near the laundry room and lock the door behind me. I turn on the cold water at the sink and catch some in my hands before dashing it on my face. I do this over and over again until I’ve successfully cooled myself off. Then I dab my face with a towel and return.
She looks at me. Studies me. “Are you alright?”
“Yes.”
I resume eating, ignoring the ache brewing inside me. “Are you ready to be my wife?”
“I am.”
“You didn’t question me when I told you we were eloping in Paris.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why not? You don’t want your family there?”
She shrugs. “My family can be a bit overwhelming and judgmental. I want to make my own decisions without any interference. Once we’re married, they can talk all they want. Before—I don’t want to hear anything they have to say.”
“You haven’t told them about us?”
“Well, my brother knows we’re dating, of course. My sister knows you exist, but she doesn’t know who you are. And, no, I haven’t mentioned anything to my parents. Oh, and I told Soda because I had no choice. I’ll let it be a surprise for everybody else. Does that bother you?”
“No. Not at all. I like having you all to myself.”
I feel the corner of my mouth twitch as I watch her scoop up meat on a chip and take it to her mouth. I resume eating to take my mind off of being with her or I’ll find myself in the bathroom again with cold water.