A hand applying lipstick to thin lips stopped in their motion. A well-groomed eyebrow elevated itself, a slender neck turned and regarded the first speaker.
Standing in blue jeans and nothing else, he sounded just as confused as he looked. “Temi…what happens now?”
She faced the mirror again and continued the soft back and forth motion across her lips. Slowly she eased back and regarded her work, and then nodding slowly smacked her lips a couple of times.
Chris watched, blank as a door’s expression as Temi replaced the lipstick in her compact, put the compact back in her purse and, clasping it firmly stood up.
“That was – that was not too bad, but I did expect more from a guy who talked as rough as you. Well – isn’t that what you guys are like; all talk, little action?”
She walked towards him, swaying softly – a far cry from the woman who had been doing all kinds of stuff – the kind of stuff Chris had only seen in pornos up till the night before.
Temi got up to him, grabbed his chin and lowered his face to hers. “Chris, I hope I’ll see you back at work in a while – I hope you get whatever is bothering you straightened out before then. We’d hate to lose you.” She pushed her face against his and shoved her tongue in his mouth, bruising his lips and biting his tongue in a flurry of passion.
Chris grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away. ” Temi…” He hated the way his breath was coming out in short spurts, hated the too-obvious tent in front of his jeans. Temi pushed against him roughly – and then she laughed and pulled away, straightening her scattered hair with a sweeping hand.
“Best you ever had, right? See you soon, baby.”
She wiggled to the door – and opened it, turning once to kiss her fingers at him and then she disappeared, leaving the door half open.
Chris sighed and slumped on the bed, emotionally and physically empty. His mind wandered to he and Temi’s companion. The stranger – to him at least.
The lady in red.
From the way she and Temi flowed, it was obvious they had done it before. Their movements were so rehearsed, so in sync…
In spite of his still-trembling limbs, Chris rose and walked to the BlackBerry still lying a few metres away from the bed. Bending over, he picked it up and – holding his waist with his empty hand – winced and punched in the phone’s unlock code.
17 missed calls. Three text messages.
Two of the calls were from Rachael his sister – the rest and all the texts were from the same number.
Irritation gave way to intrigue. What does this woman really want?
He opened the messages – and what he read kept him sitting in the bed for a long time.