10. Kelechi #2
The place was so… her. Minimalist but warm, with dark wood furniture and clean lines that somehow managed to feel inviting rather than stark. Everything had its place, but it didn’t feel sterile. There were small personal touches: a few framed photographs, some books scattered on the coffee table.
And underneath it all was her scent. It was stronger here and everywhere, that intoxicating scent that had been driving me crazy all week.
“Wow,” I breathed, taking it all in. “This is beautiful.”
“Thanks,” she said, dropping her car keys and key card on a small wooden table by the door. “It’s not much, but it’s home. Want the grand tour?”
“Yes, please,” I said almost immediately, and she chuckled, bending down to unlace her boots. I followed suit, slipping off my shoes and placing them neatly beside hers on a mat near the entrance.
She collected my tote bag and placed it on the centre table of her living area along with hers.
We carried the bag of groceries and dropped them on the kitchen counter, arguing softly about who should carry what. She grumbled when I insisted on helping, and I found myself smiling at how easily we slipped into… domesticity.
I let my eyes take in the rest of the sitting room area. The space looked large and airy. There were floor-to-ceiling windows lining one entire wall, letting in streams of natural light that made everything feel open and inviting.
“So this is the main living space,” she said, gesturing around with obvious pride. “The kitchen’s integrated here, as you can see.”
I looked at the kitchen again, taking in the sleek kitchen island that served as a natural divider between the cooking and living areas.
Everything was organised carefully. Copper pots hanging from a rail, spice jars arranged by height, a coffee machine worthy of a fancy café.
The counters were clean except for a small herb garden growing on the windowsill and a wooden cutting board.
“It’s so organised,” I murmured, running my fingers along the smooth granite countertop. “And bright.”
“Really?” A smile tugged at her lips. “I have always had a thing for spaces with great lighting. There’s something so much less depressing about them. Come on,” she said, extending her hand toward me. “Let me show you the rest.”
I took her hand without hesitation this time, though the familiar jolt of electricity still travelled up my arm at the contact.
She led me toward what I’d assumed was a hallway, but as we walked deeper into the apartment, I realised it opened up into an even more impressive space.
“And this,” she said, pushing open a door, “is my room.”
I stepped inside and felt my breath catch.
The room was cosy but spacious, with the same floor-to-ceiling windows that made up most of the far wall.
But what took my breath away was the glass sliding door that led directly onto a small private patio.
Through the transparent panels, I could see a couple of chairs and some potted plants, and beyond that, a view of the city that was absolutely stunning.
“God, it’s breathtaking.” I moved toward the glass doors.
“Best part of the whole place,” she said, following behind me. “Wait until you see the sunset from out there.”
The room itself was undeniably Marley. Masculine but warm, organised but lived in.
Her bed was low and modern, covered in soft grey linens that looked incredibly comfortable.
A vintage leather armchair sat in one corner next to a tall bookshelf filled with what looked like philosophy texts, novels, and some other books I couldn’t identify.
Her closet was partially visible through an open door, and I caught glimpses of the organised rows of dark jeans, button-down shirts, and jackets I’d expected.
But there were also some surprises, a few colourful scarves, some softer sweaters, things that spoke to layers of personality I was still discovering.
“It’s incredible,” I said softly, turning back to face her. “It’s so you. But also, so much more than I expected.”
“More how?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe with genuine curiosity.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, looking around again. “It’s so cosy, personal. Like you could actually live here and not just sleep here, if that makes sense.”
She smiled at that. “It does make sense. I wanted somewhere that felt like home, not just a place to crash between classes.”
“Mission accomplished then,” I said as I moved toward the patio door, drawn by the view and the afternoon light streaming through. “Can we…?”
“Of course,” she said, reaching past me to slide the door open. “After you.”
I stepped onto the patio, and the view hit me immediately. We were so high up that the streets shrank below us, like a miniature world spread out beneath our feet. For a second, it didn’t feel real.
“God, this is breathtaking,” I whispered.
“Mmm, I’m glad you love it, but I don’t want you catching a cold out here,” she said softly. “Come here.”
I moved over to where she stood, closer to the warmth of her body and the shelter of the apartment.
Her eyes moved slowly across my face, studying every feature with an intensity that made my skin tingle.
My heart began hammering against my ribcage so hard I was certain she could hear it echoing in the quiet space between us.
And for a moment, I let myself really look at Marley. Really see her. The way the dim light caught the gold flecks in her dark eyes. The strong line of her jaw. The way her lips curved just slightly, like she was holding back something she wanted to say.
“You’re so beautiful,” I heard myself say, which was crazy because I hadn’t meant to. But it slipped out anyway.
Something changed in her expression then, and she stepped closer, and I found myself backed against the glass door, trapped between the cool surface and the heat radiating from her body.
My breathing became shallow, each inhale bringing more of her intoxicating scent, making me feel dizzy with what I didn’t fully understand.
“Can I?” she asked quietly, her hands hovering near my face.
I didn’t even ask what she meant. I just nodded, not trusting my voice, my pulse racing so fast I felt lightheaded.
She reached up, slowly cupping my face in her hands. Her thumbs traced along my cheekbones, and I shivered at the gentle touch. Her hands were warm and slightly calloused, and the contrast against my skin undid me.
“Your eyes,” she murmured, leaning forward to press the softest kiss to my left eyelid, then my right. “They’re so beautiful. So deep and expressive, I could get lost in them.”
What is happening to me?
My legs felt weak, trembling slightly as heat spread through my limbs. No one had ever touched me like this, with such reverence, such careful attention. Each gentle kiss sent waves of sensation through my entire body, awakening nerves I didn’t know existed.
“Your cheeks,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper as she kissed each one in turn, her lips lingering against my skin. The warmth of her breath made me gasp. “They’re so soft, and I love how they turn red whenever I’m close to you.”
This can’t be real.
But the warmth of her lips, the scent of her so close, the way my skin seemed to come alive under her touch, it was the most real thing I’d ever experienced. My hands trembled at my sides, unsure where to put them, my body responding to her in ways that felt both foreign and completely natural.
“Your nose,” she said with a small smile, pressing a quick, playful kiss to the tip that made me let out a breathless laugh despite the intensity of the moment.
But then her gaze dropped to my mouth, and her expression grew serious. The playfulness faded, replaced by something deeper, more urgent. I could feel her body heat through her sweater.
“Your lips,” she whispered, her thumb tracing across my lower lip so gently it made me gasp.
The touch sent a bolt of sensation straight through me, pooling low in my stomach.
“God, Kelechi, I’ve been thinking about kissing you senseless since that night in my car.
Since the moment I met you, if I’m being honest.”
She’s going to kiss me. Really kiss me. On the lips.
The thought should have terrified me, but instead I felt myself leaning toward her, drawn by that same invisible force that had been pulling me in her direction since the beginning. My body seemed to know what it wanted even as my mind struggled to catch up.
Her forehead rested against mine.
“Kelechi…” she whispered.
“We shouldn’t,” I breathed, but didn’t move. Neither did she.
And then her mouth found mine.
It was soft at first. More like a question rather than a demand. Her lips were incredibly warm and soft, and the taste of her was something I knew I’d never forget in my life.
For a second, everything went silent, every thought, every doubt.
And all that existed was just her, just the strangest, sweetest feeling unfolding inside my chest… something finally clicking into place.
Oh.
I realised with a mixture of panic and wonder that this was my actual first kiss.
I’d always imagined it would be with Chukwuma on our wedding day. I never imagined it would be like this, in another country with a woman, on a patio overlooking the city, my entire world turning over.
Her lips moved against mine with a gentleness that made my knees weak.
This was nothing like what I’d expected a kiss to feel like.
It was raw and consuming, and it made me feel like I was dissolving and coming alive all at the same time.
My body pressed instinctively closer to hers, seeking more contact, more of her warmth.
As our lips clashed and moved against each other, my father’s voice echoed in my head: Do not follow the Western way.
To him, almost everything they did was a sin.
But this… God, this didn’t feel sinful.
This felt like coming home to myself.
I must have made some sound, a soft whimper maybe, because Marley pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes searching my face. Her breathing was as unsteady as mine.
“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly.
Instead of answering with words, I reached up and pulled her back down to me, my fingers tangling in her hair, surprising us both with my boldness.
I want more.
The thought came instinctively, shocking in its clarity.
This time, when our lips met, the kiss became hungrier, more urgent.
Her hands slid from my face into my hair, and I found myself pressing closer to her, my body seeming to know what it wanted even if my mind was still catching up.
I could feel the full length of her body against mine now, her weight pinning me gently against the glass, and the sensation made my breath catch.
I had no idea, I thought hazily as she deepened the kiss, her tongue tracing my lower lip. I gasp and open for her. I had no idea it could feel like this.
Heat was pooling low in my stomach, spreading through my limbs like liquid fire.
Every nerve ending felt alive, hyperaware of everywhere our bodies were touching.
When she pressed me more firmly against the glass door, her body flush against mine, I felt something in me surrender completely.
The cool glass at my back was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from her body, and the sensation made me arch slightly against her.
This is what wanting feels like, I realised as her mouth moved against mine with increasing intensity, as my hands fisted in her sweater, pulling her impossibly closer.
This is what desire feels like.
And it was nothing like what I’d been told it would be.
Nothing like what I’d expected. It was better and more terrifying and more right than anything I had ever experienced.
Her tongue was warm and soft against mine, and I could taste something faintly sweet, maybe coffee or chocolate from earlier.
When we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard, I stared up at her in wonder.
Her hair was messed up from my fingers, her lips were swollen from kissing, and her eyes were dark with something that made my stomach clench.
I could feel my own lips tingling and could still taste her on my tongue.
“Wow,” I whispered, the only word I could manage.
She let out a soft laugh that sounded almost disbelieving.
“Yeah,” she agreed softly. “Wow.”