28. LUKE
Chapter 28
LUKE
I take Dele out for ice cream as promised. I sit with her close to me, talking and laughing. She tells me about the defense training classes she and Amaka used to attend, but she hasn’t had time to go in the last few months. She showed me some of her moves, and I must admit, she’s quick and fast.
“I’ll try and go again. I feel like I’m getting sloppy,” she says in between licks.
“No rush, take your time,” I say, though I’d prefer she doesn’t go, but I don’t say that. I can’t afford to say the wrong thing to her. She’s smiling and enjoying her ice cream. It’s best I save more of her happy moments than ruin it with words.
We decide to explore the area. Dele buys a few items that she likes and picks up stuff for Jax, Amaka, and Vanessa. As it turns out, Dele’s hair stylist is Vanessa, who is also Kai’s girlfriend.
She tells me more about herself. We had dinner out before heading back to the room. She tells me Vanessa is very good with her hair and has helped it grow fuller and longer.
“When do I get to see and touch this full and long hair?”
“See, not touch. Maybe when I take my braids down. Depends on what Vanessa suggests.”
“Okay,” I respond, though I do want to see her hair, but it sounds like I don’t get a say. I let it go, take her hand, and return to our room.
Once the movie ends, we lie in silence. I rub Dele’s back. She sits up and turns to me. I turn toward her, knowing something is wrong.
“What’s wrong?”
“You said what happens here stays here, right? No judgement.” I fucking hated saying that. It was meant to make her relax, but she seems to have taken it as the mission statement.
“Yes,” I answer, and a radiant smile is all I see.
“I want to try something,” she says, getting off the bed. “I need your consent that you’ll play along.”
“Yes,” I answer, though I have no idea where this is going, but she looks happy, so I’m down.
“Okay.” She claps excitedly. “I’m going to change, and when I come out, I want you sitting on that sofa. You answer my questions.” She’s grinning.
“Got it. Sit on the chair and answer questions,” I state, though I’m unsure where this is going. She races to the closet, takes out a dress, shoes, and a few items. I watch her head into the bathroom. I pick up my phone and turn it off. No need for interruptions, especially from my mom, who’s the queen of inopportune calls.
I sit and wait for Dele. My mind wanders about what or where she might take me. The door opens, and my wife steps out in a blue silk short-sleeved wrap mini dress and, peep-toe blue heels. Her braids are piled up with a few loose strands, glasses on her face, light makeup, but that deep red lipstick is coloring me intrigued. I quickly get up and sit on the sofa, my hands spread out. This is going to be interesting. She moves toward me once I’m seated. I notice her legs are shimmering. What did she rub on her legs? She takes the pen and paper on the table and gets closer to me. The scent of her perfume hits my nostrils. She sits on the edge of the bed, facing me.
“Hello, Mr. Blythe. My name is Nami’k.” She winks. “And I’m your girl for tonight,” she says in a sultry voice. My eyebrow arches in amusement. This is going to be fun. “Before we proceed, I need to know you understand the rules.” I smile and nod.
“Rule one: You cannot touch me.” She smiles. I give her a side-eye. “Do you agree, or I can leave?” Her sultry voice almost pleads for me to agree with this foreplay.
“I agree,” I respond to appease her, knowing that’s a challenge for me. She smiles and bats her eyelashes at me, smacking her lips with a playful air kiss.
“Rule two: you won’t speak to me.” I nod. She smiles more.
“Rule three: you can’t touch yourself either.” This is going to be interesting. I smile.
“Good, because my husband is watching, and I wouldn’t like him breaking your fingers.” I can’t help but laugh. “I see that you want everything on the menu, and you’ve picked a song. You said no bra. I’m sorry I missed that.” She bats her eyelashes, smiling at me in a flirty manner. Now, I’m intrigued.
She sets the pen and paper down, then pulls her bra off, dropping it on the floor. Her nipples peek through the silk material. I’m grinning like a schoolboy who’s about to get with his crush. She loosens the wrap a little and turns the music on. I sit back and watch as she starts to dance seductively. I can feel the stir in my pants. She comes closer and leans into me, her hands moving at a slow, seductive pace all over me.
My face is tucked in her breast as she dances. She caresses my ears. Her hand is everywhere as she moves in a sexually arousing rhythm, teasing me. Her tongue pricks my ear, sending waves of sensation through me. I reach to grab her, but she blocks my hand and whispers, “You can’t touch me. My husband is watching.” Fuck this imaginary husband.
My body is on fire. With her back to me, she sits on me and dry humps me. My dick is about to rip through the zipper. Why the hell did I wear cargo pants? I try to loosen the zipper to let him out, but she blocks my hand.
“Can’t touch yourself either,” she teases.
Her wrap dress falls open, revealing black lace panties that I want to rip off with my teeth. Her nipples are hard, awaiting my eager mouth.
She moves, taking the dress off and starts pulling her panties down slowly. I watch this beautiful siren as she tortures me alluringly. She sits on me, using her knees to lock me in place. She kisses me all over, and I swear, I’m about to break all the fucking rules. She blocks my hand again.
“You can’t touch me. My husband is watching,” she whispers in a conspiratorial tone. The mention of the imaginary husband frustrates me further. She kicks her heels off and slides down my body to her knees. She unzips my pants, licks her lips, and takes me out. My dick bounces in happiness from being freed. She massages me, top to bottom, repeatedly. Just as I’m about to lose it, she licks the tip, rolling her tongue on it. I’m about to come in her mouth, but I hold it back. She goes deeper, rolling her tongue and sucking me hard.
“Fuck! That’s so good.” She does it again, making me even harder, pulling all the way to the tip and rolling her tongue, then stops. She massages me again, and I lose control, splattering my cum on her breasts. I couldn’t hold it back any longer.
“My job here is done, Mr. Blythe.” She smiles. “Have a good night.” She gets up with my cum dripping off her. She bends down to grab her dress and wipes my cum off her. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I move quickly, tossing her onto the bed. I kick my shorts off. She laughs.
“What about my husband?” she playfully asks.
“Fuck your imaginary husband. I’m the husband in your dreams and real life. I’ll break his fucking face and hands if he touches you, imaginary or not.” I turn her onto her stomach and pull her ass to the edge of the bed, filling her all the way. A different sensation of warmth flows through me. “Are you ready for me?”
“Yes!”
“Good girl.” I begin moving fast inside her. She screams out loud. I stop and rub her ass, smacking it.
“Who’s your husband?”
“You are.” Smack.
“What’s my name?”
“Luke Blythe.” Smack.
“Good, that fucking imaginary guy better remember who you belong to.” I increase my pace, smacking her ass gently between thrusts. She moans louder, fisting the sheets.
“I’m … coming… Luke…”
“Good, come for me and only me.”
She comes, screaming out loud. Her walls tighten around me, sucking me into bliss. I cum in her, releasing all of me. I collapse on her, then roll off once I realize my weight.
“You can be my dancer anytime you want, just no fucking imaginary husband, because I can touch my wife whenever I want.” She laughs and rolls onto her back. I turn to face her.
“That’s the point of the game. You were a good participant,” she teases.
I pull her to me, her head resting on my chest. “We make our own rules, Dele. I like touching my wife.”
“Maybe you can touch yourself next time.” She laughs.
“Okay, but no damn imaginary husband, too.”
“Imaginary husbands are fun. He’s handsome and debonair, sitting mysteriously behind the imaginary glass, with a glass of whiskey, watching to make sure you don’t touch me.” She pokes my chest and smiles.
“I will never share you, not even with an imaginary husband. He’s out.”
“Uh, you are no fun.” She pokes me again and gets off the bed.
“Where are you going?” I call out.
“Shower, with my imaginary husband before you kick him out,” she answers, sticking her tongue out at me.
“Oh no, you won’t.” I race after her.
We spend the next hour in the bathroom, with me sinking inside her again, making her scream out my name, reminding her who her husband is. By the time we’re out, and she creams her body, I’ve worn her out. We’re not going out today. I order our dinner, and we sit on the balcony facing the beach to have our meal. I listen to her tell me all about her friend and the crazy dares Osei makes her do, or things to get himself out of a hot spot. She laughs as she recounts one instance where one of Osei’s girl threw a drink in her face.
“It wasn’t funny when she tossed the glass of red wine at me,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“What did you do?”
“I was shocked at first, then made Osei pay for my pain and suffering,” I chuckle.
“How did he pay?”
“He took me shopping. I made him watch two rom-com movies with me. As you know, Osei would rather walk on hot coals than sit through a rom-com at the theatre, and he had to bring me lunch for two weeks.”
“Looks like you got the best of it.”
“I did, because who else is going to carry the banner of his favorite girl and deal with all his women drama?” She rolls her eyes. “Osei has dra—ma.” I laugh at the way she stresses the word.
“How did you guys meet?” I ask. She arches a brow.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes, at least I get to know where the cord-tangling begins.” She laughs.
“We met in the ER. I had just started working at the hospital. It was the night shift, and he brought one of his girlfriends in. She had food poisoning and couldn’t keep anything down. I was her nurse. When she finally slept and the ER quieted down a bit, Osei and I started talking. When my shift ended, her friends came to get her. Osei offered me breakfast, but I had to head to class. He asked if I would meet him at a restaurant, which is now our favorite, for lunch. I got a good vibe from him, so I decided to meet him. We started hanging out more after that. Some of his friends got handsy with me, which wasn’t pretty, a few thought I was the next girl of the month and felt I needed to date them. That’s when Osei started calling me ‘his favorite girl,’ just to keep the handsy guys and the daters at bay.”
“Good idea that he started doing that. Do they still get handsy?”
“No, but Derek still asks me out. He’s the only one who knows Osei and I are just friends. Others think I’m just happy to be in a polygamous relationship with him.” I laugh. Time to set them all straight.
“He tells me you are his twin.” She smiles.
“I like that better.” She winks. “Yes, we both like to believe we were twins in some other life, especially since we share a birthday, born on the same day and the same year in two different countries. Based on the time calculation, I’m the older twin and he doesn’t like me reminding him of that.” She chews on her food. I take her hand and kiss it. We finish our food, and I push the tray aside. I take my seat back on the balcony and pull her onto my lap. She leans into me, resting her head on my chest. We remain quiet and enjoy the breeze.
“So, where did Nami’k come from?” She laughs.
“You know, it’s my middle name backwards, with the first letter of my last name. Anyway, Jax introduced me to this gentle lady’s club. All women, and the stripper guys sit while the ladies do whatever they want—most times seductive dances—and I watch.” Interesting. “That’s where I kissed the guy. He’d been watching me and came up to me that one time and asked for a kiss.”
“And you kissed him.”
“Yes,” she answers, her voice fading as she nods off. She’s not going clubbing with Jax again. Before I know it, she’s asleep. I carry her to bed.