Page 72 of Two’s Better

“Uzi,” she gasped, her hips jerking.

“Yes, Fure, baby?”

“Oh my God,” she whimpered, unable to tear her eyes away from our reflections, her gaze locked on my hand, my fingers stroking relentlessly between her sexy, dimpled thighs. “Oh fuck. Oh my God.”

I bit her neck, not taking my eyes off her face, cataloguing all her pleasure-filled expressions as I worked her clit hard and fast until she was coming with a sultry, little cry. She melted back into me, panting hard.

“You’re so annoying, oh my God.” But she was laughing. “This isn’t a competition, you know?”

“Yes, it is. And I plan to win.”

“Oh my God.”

I grinned unapologetically as I licked my fingers clean, then washed my hands while she climbed back into the shower to rinse off. I laughed at the disgruntled look on her face, which made her laugh, too.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she said when she was done.

My heart legit skipped a beat. “I love you, too.”

Dry and wrapped up in the cuddly soft, extra-large towels, she asked, a little shyly, “Is it all right if I stay over at yours?”

“I don’t think I want to sleep without you ever again,” I said, perhaps a little too honestly.

“Oh my God.” She blushed furiously. “Oshey dramatic.”

“You’ll know what dramatic is when I’m done with you.”

We laughed all the way back to her room.

“Are you ready?” I whispered when we were standing in front of my room door, a small bag filled with Ofure’s things—toiletries, night wear, change of clothes, and such—in my right hand.

“Uzezi, if you don’t open this fucking door.”

I laughed. Despite myself, my heart was pounding with nerves, and maybe a little bit of self-consciousness. Not going to lie, as we’d made our way over here, I’d felt just a little ounce of regret for how over the top I’d gone about this. In the moment, I’d been full of passion and excitement and a little bit—read: a lot of—desperation, and now that the moment had come—especially after Ofure had inadvertently taken the wind off my sails back at hers—this whole thing I’d planned now felt kind of childish.

“Uzi, I’m going grey here.”

“Please don’t laugh at me.” I said it teasingly, but she read the sincerity underneath, because of course she did, her expression softening despite the teasing curve to her lips.

“I make no promises.”

I grinned helplessly, then got my keys out and unlocked my door. I flicked the light switch and they came on with little fanfare—not even a dramatic flicker? Come on; I was dying here.

Ofure stared at my neatly made bed, currently covered in pale pink rose petals with golden, lettered balloons spelling out BE MINE in the middle.

She turned to look at me, and I sent a silent prayer of thanks to God that my dark skin didn’t show my blush; my cheeks were fucking burning right now.

“Uzezi,” she said, her eyes glistening. “You are so fucking corny.”

My lips twitched, my heart pounding with love for her. “You love it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She darted up to me to kiss me softly. The moment we parted, she brought out her phone.

“Ofure,” I began, my panic just a little bit genuine. “What are you doing?”