12. Marley
Chapter Twelve
Marley
The soft rhythm of Kelechi’s breathing filled the quiet space between us in a way that should have calmed me.
Instead, it made something tight unfurl in my chest. Her head rested against my shoulder.
The silk scarf I had given her was barely holding back her braids as they spilled across my collarbone and down my arm, and I could feel the gentle puff of her breath against my neck.
I should have been content right here. Satisfied that I got to be the one she trusted well enough to help her discover herself. Instead, my mind wouldn’t stop racing about how all this would end.
I’d had a taste of her, and heaven knows I wanted more. I wasn’t even a bit satisfied… and her being straight and curious… shit.
If it was curiosity, you encouraged it.. an inner voice said to me.
Fuck.
I’d always stayed away from straight women. That rule had kept my life simple. They kissed girls at parties when they were drunk, flirted for fun, used queer women to experiment, to test on the way back to men, normalcy, and safety. We were the detour, the phase. The story they laughed about later.
I had promised myself years ago that I would never be someone’s phase.
So, what the hell was I doing now?
What if she woke up tomorrow and realised this had all been a mistake? What if she decided it had just been novelty, proximity, rebellion?
And even if she did, it’s a win-win for both of you… this isn’t a romantic relationship, Marley… it’s an arrangement.
But even as the fears spiralled through my mind, I knew they were unfair to her.
The way she’d looked at me this afternoon, the way she’d responded to my touch, the breathless wonder in her voice when she’d moaned my name…
that hadn’t felt like experimentation or like she wanted to hurt me.
That had felt like recognition, like she’d been discovering a part of herself she’d never known existed.
And I was more than happy to be of assistance.
This is just you teaching her how to be free, how to explore and act on her suppressed desires, my inner voice reminded me again. There was no label to what we had going on.
I forced myself to focus on the present. On the warm weight of her body against mine. On the way, her fingers were loosely curled against my ribs, like even in her drowsiness, she didn’t want to let go. On how natural this felt, having her in my space, in my bed.
After we’d dressed, we’d finally remembered the Sauerbraten.
The meat had turned out perfect, tender, and rich despite the rushed marinade.
We’d eaten on the couch with our legs tangled together, stealing lazy kisses between bites while she praised every mouthful as though I’d performed some culinary miracle.
The way she had closed her eyes when she’d tasted something particularly good, the little sounds of appreciation she’d made… it had been almost as intoxicating as watching her come apart in my arms earlier.
I had never cooked for a hookup before. Hell, I’d never even let anyone sleep over in my bed. But here I was, wishing she would never leave it, never leave my life. When had casual turned into careful? When did sex begin to feel like something really intense?
God, I was in trouble.
The realization hit me with startling clarity.
I’d always been careful about letting people get too close.
It was easier that way, safer. Keep things light, keep the expectations low, keep my heart protected behind walls that had served me well for years.
But Kelechi… she was already slipping past my defences without even trying.
It had been close to 10 p.m. by the time we’d finished dinner, both of us lingering over the last of the wine, neither wanting the evening to end.
When I’d suggested she stay the night, I’d tried to keep my voice casual, like it was just a practical suggestion rather than something I desperately wanted.
“It’s late,” I’d said, not quite meeting her eyes. “And you’ve had wine. I’d feel better if you stayed.”
The relief that had flooded her face told me she’d wanted the same thing.
Now she was wearing one of my old T-shirts and a pair of my joggers, both comically large on her smaller frame but somehow making her look even more beautiful.
The soft cotton of my shirt clung to her curves, and I’d had to bite back a groan when I’d seen how it stretched across her chest, emphasising the fullness of her breasts in a way that had made my mouth go dry all over again.
She’d caught me staring and had blushed that gorgeous, deep red that I was already addicted to, ducking her head shyly even after everything we’d shared today.
“You’re staring,” she’d whispered, and I’d wanted to tell her that I couldn’t help it, that she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, especially like that, soft and rumpled and mine for the night, at least.
Instead, I’d just pulled her close and kissed her forehead, because words had felt inadequate for what I was feeling.
Now, lying here in the dim light filtering through my bedroom windows, I couldn’t resist pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft beneath my lips, and she stirred slightly at the contact, a small smile curving her mouth even in her half-asleep state.
Her arms tightened around me instinctively, and I felt something in my chest crack open at the simple gesture. She was holding onto me, and I didn’t know how to reconcile that with my fear that this might not last.
For a moment, I let myself pretend this wasn’t temporary. That she hadn’t mentioned an arranged future waiting back home, that this wasn’t borrowed time.
Maybe this was real. Maybe she had walked into my life for a reason. Maybe I was allowed to have her, even if only for a little while.
But the thought didn’t comfort me. Instead, it scared the hell out of me. Because somewhere between that first meeting at the airport and tonight, somewhere between her shy smiles and breathless responses to my touch, I had started liking her in a way that wasn’t casual.
I wanted her in a way that could wreck me.
And lying here with her breathing against my skin, warm and heartbreakingly close, I realised something I didn’t want to admit.
I was afraid of losing her, and I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do about that.
“M…Marley,” Kelechi breathed, her voice thick with sleep as I sucked her breasts, my tongue flicking across her dark nipples.
I had woken up to the smell of her skin, the heat of her body pressed against mine.
It had started innocently with me kissing her face, her sleepy little sighs, but as the memories of last night surged back, I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted her again.
More.
Deeper.
I had pushed her shirt higher and latched onto her chest, greedy for the taste of her, greedy for the way she writhed beneath me.
“Oh, Lord… Marley,” she gasped, her voice breaking, and I lifted my head just enough to watch her. My hand replaced my mouth, kneading her breast as I stared at the expression on her face, her eyes fluttering shut, lips parted, like she was barely holding it together.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful like this.” I hovered over her, brushing my thumb along her waist, tugging lightly at the hem of her joggers. “I don’t think I want us to attend class today,” I murmured, half-teasing, half-serious. “I want you with my whole body. I don’t know how to want you halfway.”
Her breath caught as I hooked my fingers under her joggers, ready to strip her bare, when I noticed she wasn’t looking at me. Her gaze darted away, her whole body stiffening.
“Princess?”
She didn’t answer.
I brushed my knuckles over her hip, softer this time. “Don’t you want it?” My voice dropped, low and serious. “Because I do. I want to make you feel good.”
Her chest rose and fell, and finally she whispered, “I’ve never… uhm… had sex before.”
If you asked me what I expected to hear, this wouldn’t have even made the list. Hell, it wasn’t anywhere close. I froze, my hands slipping away from her joggers.
“Wait, what?”
She bit her lip, still refusing to meet my eyes. “Never,” she repeated.
I sat back on my knees, staring at her in disbelief. My pulse was still racing from how badly I wanted her, but suddenly I felt protective.
I pulled her shirt back down gently and shifted to lie beside her, propping myself up on my elbow so I could see her face properly.
The morning light filtered through my curtains, casting soft shadows across her features, but I could see the vulnerability there, the way she was trying to make herself smaller.
“Hey,” I said softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Look at me.”
She finally looked at me then, her eyes wide.
“I know I must seem so inexperienced to you, so naive.”
“Princess.” I waited until she met my gaze fully. “There’s nothing wrong with being inexperienced, nothing at all.”
Her fingers twisted in the fabric of my shirt.
“It’s just... I’ve been so focused on my studies my entire life.
My parents, they have such high hopes for me, and I never wanted to disappoint them.
School, then university, then coming here for my master’s degree.
” She took a shaky breath. “At twenty-four, there are so many things I’ve never done. ”
“What kind of things?”
She was quiet for a long moment, staring at the ceiling.
“Normal things that people my age have done. I’ve never been to a concert.
Never gone camping. Never had a sleepover that wasn’t about studying, well, that was until last night.
” She laughed, but it sounded hollow. “I’ve never even been to an amusement park. ”
“An amusement park?” I couldn’t hide my surprise.
“My parents thought they were frivolous, a waste of time and money.” She turned to face me, and I could see years of missed experiences reflected in her expression.
“I used to check them out on social media, and I’d see people laughing on roller coasters, eating cotton candy, winning stuffed animals, and I’d wonder what that felt like. ”
I reached for her hand, intertwining our fingers. “What else?”
“I’ve never been to a drive-in movie. Never had a picnic in the park just because I wanted to. Never learned to ride a bike properly.” Her voice got smaller. “Never kissed anyone until yesterday.”
The trust it took for her to share this with me wasn’t lost on me. I squeezed her hand gently. “Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“What do you want? Not what your parents want, not what’s expected of you. What do you actually want to do?”
She was quiet for so long, I thought she might not answer. Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “Everything. I want to try everything I’ve missed. I want to know what it feels like to be spontaneous, to do something just because it sounds fun.”
I felt a smile tugging at my lips. “Everything, huh?”
“I know it sounds silly—”
“It doesn’t sound silly at all.” I turned onto my side fully, facing her. “It sounds like you’ve spent your whole life living for other people. Maybe it’s time you started living for yourself.”
Her eyes searched my face. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Well,” I said, my smile growing wider, “lucky for you, I happen to be an expert in fun, frivolous activities.”
“Really?”
“Really. In fact, I’m thinking we could start with something simple today.
” I traced patterns on the back of her hand with my thumb.
“There’s this farmers’ market downtown I heard about, and they are open on Saturdays.
There’s live music, local vendors, and the kind of atmosphere where you can just wander around and discover things.
Very low-key, but I bet it’s still an adventure. ”
Her face lit up in a way that made my heart skip. “That sounds wonderful.”
“And then maybe next weekend, if you’re up for it, I’d love to take you somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“I’m not saying. It’s a surprise.” I couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm.
“And if you’re feeling really adventurous this evening, there’s also an amusement park about an hour outside the city.
Nothing too intense, but they have roller coasters and funnel cake and all those things you’ve been missing.
We can visit there from the farmers’ market. ”
She bit her lip, but she was smiling now. “You’d really want to do all that? With me?”
“Princess.” I brought our joined hands up to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than watch you experience all those things for the first time.”
The look she gave me then was so full of wonder and gratitude.
“But what about today?” she asked. “What about class?”
I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was already past nine, and our Tuesday class had started an hour ago. “I think we can afford to miss Professor Doug’s class,” I said. “Especially if it means starting your list of new experiences.”
She looked scandalised and thrilled all at once. “You want us to skip class?”
“I want you to choose what you want to do, instead of what you think you should do.” I brushed my thumb across her cheek. “So, what do you say? Ready for your first taste of spontaneity?”
The smile that spread across her face was radiant. “Yes. Yes, I want to.”
“Good,” I replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead before slipping out of bed. “First spontaneous act of rebellion, breakfast in bed.”
She tried to follow me.
I turned, hands on my hips. “Absolutely not. Royalty does not cook their own breakfast on revolutionary mornings.”
She laughed, that bright and unrestrained warmth spilling into the room.
“Yes, ma’am.”
And God help me, I realised I would burn down every careful boundary I had ever built if it meant hearing that laugh again.