The late-afternoon sun was soft against the windshield as I drove toward Murtala Muhammed

International Airport. Traffic was its usual stubborn self, but nothing could dull the anticipation

building in me.

Katie was back.

Four months away in the U.S., four months here in Nigeria—that’s been her rhythm for years

now. Her company funds her travel as part of her hybrid cybersecurity role, and somehow she

still manages to hold thirty percent of Tes-Tech’s shares. She’s always been my anchor and my

fiercest ally.

I spotted her even before she waved—tailored navy blazer, laptop bag hanging effortlessly from

one shoulder, hair swept up in a bun that somehow survived the flight. Katie walked like the

world couldn’t knock her off balance.

“Look at you,” I called as she reached me.

“Look at you,” she fired back with a grin, pulling me into a hug that lingered just long enough to

erase the distance of the past four months.

By the time we got home, the old rhythm was back in place. Shoes off, hair down, and suya

ordered from our favorite spot. The living room lights were dim, with Davido’s music playing

low in the background.

This was our tradition—catching up on everything: life, growth, relationships, dreams. No

secrets, no half-truths.

“So,” Katie began between bites, “Tes-Tech’s numbers are insane. I saw the report Tim sent.

You’re running the game, T.”

I smiled. “We’re running the game. That Berlin contract you locked in last quarter? Game

changer.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Minor contribution. You’re still the heartbeat of the

company.”

I shook my head, laughing. “Says the woman who keeps our digital empire from being hacked

into pieces.”

Our laughter settled into something softer, the way it always does when we ease into the personal

stuff.

“Any new dreams lately?” she asked, tilting her head at me.

“Dreams? Just keeping the ones I have alive feels like a full-time job.”

She smirked. “Relationships?”

I exhaled slowly. “Three tries in two years, and nothing to show for it except a clearer picture of

what I don’t want.”

Katie’s gaze sharpened. “Good. Means the universe is just screening the trash before you commit.

Remember Femi?”

I groaned. “We’re not doing Femi tonight.”

“Oh yes, we are. That man would’ve had you stepping down as CEO before the honeymoon was

over. Some men don’t want love, they want leverage.”

I smiled faintly. This was us. Brutal honesty wrapped in love.

We talked until the suya was gone and the wine bottles stood empty, drifting between plans for

Tes-Tech’s next phase, her upcoming U.S. projects, and far-off dreams like traveling together

without a business meeting waiting on the other side.

By the time we called it a night, the air felt lighter. We had each other. We always did.

*********

Katie’s laptop was open on the coffee table, her fingers flying over the keyboard as Tim and I

went over the South Africa schedule.

“This is the big one,” Katie said, looking between us. “The investors have been circling for

months. If we land this, Tes-Tech will have a solid footprint in the southern market.”

I glanced at Tim, who gave a small nod. “I’ve already prepped the presentation deck. T, you’ll

handle the negotiation; I’ll field the tech questions.”

We spent the next hour ironing out travel details, flights, and accommodation. By the time Katie

closed her laptop, she looked satisfied. “Alright, you two. Go make Tes-Tech proud.”

****Johannesburg******

The meeting was a win from the first handshake. The investors were sharp, but we were sharper.

Tim’s technical insights sealed the deal, and my pitch closed it. By the end of the day, we’d

secured a partnership worth more than we’d dared to project.

“Victory calls for a celebration,” Tim said that evening, a mischievous glint in his eye.

The club he picked pulsed with low lights and velvet shadows. Music thumped deep enough to

be felt in the bones. We started with champagne, laughing over the day’s triumphs, shoulders

brushing as the night pulled us closer.

The bass of the amapiano track pulsed through the club, lights flashing like heartbeats. From my

seat in the corner booth, I spotted him — Tim — laughing, mixing with guys from the club, drink

in hand, while a willowy girl with neon braids ground against him like she owned the night. Her

hands looped around his neck, her hips rolling shamelessly against his.

Something in me clenched. Jealousy. Hot, uninvited, burning through my chest.

Before I knew it, my drink was abandoned, my heels clicking across the floor.

“Excuse me,” I murmured to the girl, not even glancing at her as I slid in between them. My

body pressed flush to Tim’s, my back brushing his chest, hips catching the rhythm. He went still

for half a beat — surprised — before his hands settled on my waist, cautious, unsure.

The beat was fast, teasing, but then the DJ melted it into Gimme Love by Maroon girls, the air was

fill with erotic moves, bodies grinding slowly, deeper, dripping with heat and need to release

stored orgasm.

Tim’s breath was warm against my ear. “Telissa…”

I didn’t answer — just let my hips sway, slow and deliberate, twerking my naturally endowed BBL,

l’m gladly God gave me this hourglass shape, l pulled him into the music with me. His hesitation

melted. His grip tightened, fingers splaying over my hips. The bulge pressed into my lower back

told me all I needed to know.

We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to.

Every brush of my skin against his sent little jolts racing through me. Every small tug of his

fingers on my waist made my breath hitch.

By the time we left the club, we were tipsy — not drunk enough to forget that l was damp down

there, but enough to feel bold. The drive to the penthouse hotel was quiet, thick with everything

unsaid.

In the elevator, the air was heavy, electric. I caught his stare in the mirrored wall — dark,

unblinking. My pulse thudded in my ears. Our rooms were side by side, but when I leaned in to

kiss him goodnight, it wasn’t a polite, casual kiss.

It was meant to end after a second.

It didn’t.

He tasted like whiskey and want, and I couldn’t let go. My hand slid to the back of his neck,

pulling him closer, deeper. His palm found my hip again, thumb stroking in a way that made my

knees weaken.

The doors slid open behind us, but neither of us moved.

The kiss was supposed to be a polite goodnight—brief, forgettable.

But the moment her lips left his, something uncoiled between them. Tim’s hand found the small

of her back, pulling her closer. Her breath hitched as his tongue teased the seam of her lips, and

before she knew it, they were leaning into the wall of the elevator, kissing like they’d been

starving for it.

The soft ding of the elevator broke them apart—just barely. They stepped out, not speaking, but

the air between them was thick, electric.

Tim’s eyes were dark, searching hers for a reason to stop. Telissa gave him none.

She stepped forward, fingers curling into his shirt, and the next thing she knew, they were in his

room, the door clicking shut behind them.

His mouth was on hers again, hungry this time, almost desperate, devouring her lips, trailing his

tongue down her earlobe, neck, sucking everything. Her heels slipped off as she kicked them

away, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt. Tim pulled back just long enough to strip it over his

head, revealing the hard lines of his chest. She traced them with her fingertips, feeling the way

his breath hitched under her touch.

“You sure about this?” he murmured, voice low, almost hoarse.

Telissa answered by pulling him down into another kiss, deeper, wetter this time.

The taste of him—mixed with the faint tang of alcohol—was intoxicating.

Her dress was gone in seconds, discarded somewhere on the floor. His jeans followed, and the

press of his body against hers left no question about how badly he wanted her.

The slow, teasing build-up made every touch sharper, every kiss hungrier. When he finally slid

into her, they both groaned—low, guttural sounds that filled the room. Their movements started

slow, almost in sync with the slow beat of the music still echoing in her head, then grew faster,

more urgent.

By the time we collapsed, Tim carried me in a bridal style to the shower, worshipping every inch of

me, I was wobbling due to the multiple orgasms l had.

This sex was good, the best I’ve in my entire existence.

We slept in each other's arms, with soft kisses.

I could hear his soft groan, watching him sleep brought a moist need to my core, was l insatiable?

I trailed my hands over his face and chest. He stirred and pulled me in

He was erected again, well, I wanted this

I rode him again before daybreak

**Morning**

Tim’s voice was quiet. “T… last night—”

I sat up, pulling the sheet around me. “It was great, Tim. But let’s not make it complicated.”

The flicker of something in his eyes made my chest tighten, but I pushed it down. We got

dressed in silence.

****Back in Nigeria***

Katie’s eyes darted between us the moment we walked in. “Okay, what’s going on?”

I laughed it off, but she didn’t buy it. Later, in my room, I told her the truth.

“It was… good. Better than I expected. But it doesn’t change anything.”

She gave me a look. “Maybe it should. Tim’s not just some guy, T.”

I shook my head. “The company’s my focus. This—him—it can’t be more.”

That night, though, when the house was quiet, the memory replayed—his hands, his mouth, the

way he’d looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. The ache returned, curling low

and insistent.

Sleep didn’t come easily. And when it finally did, it carried me right back to him.