C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - O N E

Mature Content + Trigger warning: the smut in this one's a bit hectic, no one gets assaulted/harmed or but it is a bit triggering. gonna put a (•∆•∆•) at the start of the scene for anyone who'd rather skip it.
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When Keith had graduated from the Nigerian British Academy nine years ago, it had been with great excitement that he had left home for Boston. He already knew the direction his life would take, he knew the magnitude of his purpose - he knew that he had to do everything he could to be the best.

He was nothing like many of the young men his age, who frolicked around in university with some half-baked hope that their degrees would give them the kinds of jobs that would satisfy them. He was the son of a Big Man, the heir to a powerful empire and he had shoes that he needed to fill.

He would never forget the feeling he got when the plane he was in began its descent into American soil - it was one of utter vulnerability. He had to navigate and conquer this new land and make a name for himself because he knew all that was at stake.

The first few weeks of freshman year had been awful because naturally, adjusting into his new home had been painful and unfamiliar and he'd been plagued with a homesickness so strong he had to fight tears.

But then he had came, seen and conquered and after the four tireless years at MIT he headed to New York, ready to claim the position of CEO in his father's company.

The first thing he had done to establish himself was to ensure that his office space boasted his energy to all those who entered it. He had been meticulous about colour schemes, access to natural light, modern and sleek appliances and furniture and such.

Naturally, it was a room that brought him great pleasure. He was his own man in New York with an entire company that answered to him, his father's most trusted representative overseas.

But here in Abuja, in the cramped office that had been made of wood that was far too shiny and the light that entered the room was too strong, Keith felt like a boy, still slaving away to earn his father's approval.

He hated his office space and he hated the fact that he spent so many hours stuck in there. He'd known that he could take a full on vacation, of course but had expected the workload to be moderate, but it seemed that his father's wants grew more and more demanding. It had all to do with the fact that after more than two decades, his father had finally decided to merge his company with his long-time friend Eugene Ladipo.

They'd spent the entire summer at the Ikande Tech Corp head offices. Eugene had brought with him his right hand man, Samson Adebayo and his daughter, Josephine. Keith didn't see the logic in merging a companies that specialised in starkly different fields but he, along with everyone else knew the story of Damola, Eugene and Oladayo - three men who'd met in The University of Ibadan over thirty years ago.

All three of them had come from very humble backgrounds and formed a brotherhood so strong it lasted for many years. They promised each other they'd one day start their own separate enterprises that would make them very rich and comfortable, then their end goal would be to merge all of their companies into one.

Oladayo Adebayo had passed away more than a decade ago, long before he could establish any sort of business and so, in honour of Oladayo, his son, Samson would own 33% of the company, the amount Oladayo would've had and so, Eugene had taken him under his wing. And soon enough, there would be a lineage of people dedicated to this merged company. Josephine was already expected to dedicate her life to this endeavour, which was why Keith found himself sharing his space with the girl.

Keith had grown up around Josephine so to him, she was a long-time friend and sometimes, she reminded him a lot of a sister. But he also could not ignore the almost strategic way he and Josephine had been lumped together for the summer, a feat strategically arranged by both sets of parents.

Keith could admit that she was extremely attractive. He couldn't remember the exact moment Josephine went from a little girl to the captivating woman she was now but he remembered how one day, pert, rounded breasts had sprouted from her iron-board chest and curves had moulded her previously stick-thin body. He knew the power she held over men, how she always held them wrapped around her finger - first her father, whom she'd had enraptured from the day she was born and later, all of the boys in senior high school and university.

She was deathly dangerous because she always made men think that they had the upper hand while she had them in the palm of her hand like a master pupeteer. She'd even had Joseph trapped in her spell for a while. Keith would never forget the summer his younger brother had followed Josephine around like a lost puppy, with stars shining in his eyes for her.

Keith had never seen Josephine in any light that wasn't strictly platonic and maybe somewhat familiar, but he could appreciate the high quality woman she was. She was ambitious, intelligent, came from a respectful family and knew the true dynamics between men and women. All these thoughts flitted through his mind while she talked on about some piece of gossip she'd seen on Facebook while he waited for his computer to reboot.

It was hot and the office they were now sharing was stuffy and cramped and Keith was already exhausted although there were still hours upon hours of meetings. He missed Normani.

He would've done anything to head straight home and lie beside her in the veranda with drinks and cool shade and maybe spend the rest of the night in his favourite place, between her toned and supple legs. Missionary was his favourite position because it allowed him to lean down close enough to her so he could hear her moans - his favourite sounds.

She always tried to muffle them but whenever the pleasure became too much, which it always did, she'd pant in that sexy, special ways of hers, lose all control and cry out in abandon.

Keith felt his the fabric of his suit pants tighten at the crotch area and he inwardly groaned. He heat from the outside made sweat trickle down his neck.

He licked his lips as he thought of the sultry smile Normani always displayed just before she seduced him. He thought of the glint in her dark brown irises which were always as black as a river in the middle of the night when she wanted him and the blood in his body began to travel to one destination.

He was transported back to the weekend in Lagos, when Keith had left Normani shopping in the strip of high-end clothing stores while he secured their dinner plans for that night.

After an incredible night spent dancing and dining and enjoying the night life in one of Africa's best mega cities, they'd finished their night off in their bedroom. Amidst the pale silk sheets he'd especially requested, Normani had worn a black and vanilla coloured lingerie she'd bought that that day as a treat for him.

He shuddered when he thought of how it had looked against her brown skin, how the material bra had pushed her delicious breasts together and upwards and the way her toned abdominal muscles flexed underneath it and finally, how it felt when he'd finally taken the thing off.

Keith would've done anything to be with his woman right that second because he needed her touch so desperately that it hurt.

"Keith, se o ko gbo mi? I've been calling you for the past minute."

Josephine's voice was closer than he expected it and he realised that she was standing right behind his chair.

"Binu I'm just waiting for my computer to finish it's reboot."

"Okay, I want to show you something I saw on Facebook," she said.

Josephine had worn a navy blue skirt suit and a crisp white button up. Because it was so hot, she'd taken off her tights and left a few buttons open on her shirt.

If Keith wanted to, he could stare right into her cleavage and take a peek at what he was sure was a swell of pert breasts much larger than his girlfriend's.

"You know I don't care for your gossip," Keith said.

"Oh but this is a good one, I promise," she said.

Josephine had a perfect Anglicised accent. She spoke English exactly like the white people from England who'd taught them the tongue in school. It wasn't tainted with that harsh American twang that had crept into his own accent even after he'd diligently tried to not speak the way those Americans did. Josephine's voice also had a nice deep timber to it and it sounded especially heavenly when she spoke pure Yoruba.

She'd already placed her Lenovo laptop in front of him and he saw the screen saver of her in traditional attire for the wedding of a university classmate Keith had missed.

"It's about Isioma Adaolisa," she said as she opened up her Facebook news feed. Her perfume, strong, yet very fruity and feminine - much stronger than anything Normani wore -filled his senses.

She was leaning over his chair and had stretched her arms out to reach her keyboard. Had Keith's chair not been made of a high and thick leather, her breasts would've been poking against his back. The thought alone made blood rush to his crotch again.

"The one we went to senior high with?"

"Beeni, her father was a Big Man at the Cocoa-Cola factory in Lagos, remember?"

"Beeni."

"Well, he's being investigated for fraud, apparently he's been stealing from the company and they suspect it's a lot of money."

"How many are we talking? Hundred thousands of nairas? Millions?"

"Two billion naira," Josephine replied, "they suspect he's been doing this over the past decade."

"Two billion naira? And they let him steal it right under their noses? I don't believe it!"

"Now I only wonder if that was the reason why that Isioma girl never wanted for much. She used to go to Europe every summer like it was nothing, had the most expensive designer clothes at sixteen and even now, she's off in Dubai with her new man toy."

"Josephine, does that not sound like the life you're living now?" Keith asked with a teasing tone in his voice.

"Ehe, but I had to wait until I'd graduated to be treated that way. Papa wanted me to earn my vacations while hers were handed on a silver platter at the ages of sixteen, seventeen because her father was stealing American money. God truly does not let the wicked win!" She let out a cackle that made Keith roll his eyes.

"I forget how petty you can be sometimes. You're the textbook mean girl," Keith said with amusement.

"If that means that I tell the truth then I will gladly take that title."

"You were a little mean to my girlfriend the night you and your parents came over for dinner."

"Shame, you must really have feelings for this one, ehn? You never cared what I had to say for your other girlfriends."

"She's trying so hard to fit in here, she wants you all to like her."

"How cute," Josephine replied and Keith turned his head to roll his eyes at her.

"No but she is cute, very cute, like a little puppy."

"Dawo duro, Josephine, you're not funny."

"Okay, I'm sorry," she replied, although she didn't really sound apologetic in the slightest. He felt stupid for bringing it up. He knew Josephine didn't mean any real harm when she acted a bit nasty, it was just the way she was.

He knew Normani had been a bit upset but he'd organised the weekend to Lagos and she hadn't brought up that dinner ever again. He hoped she was satisfied because that trip had made a very decent dent into his funds.

"I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you, here, you seem very tense. I'll give you a massage."

No sooner than the words registered in his brain, her slim, slightly abrasive hands rubbed his temples and slid down to his neck. Keith closed his eyes. Her hands hovered down to his shoulders as he leaned a bit forward and she pressed her fingers into his muscles.

"Is this okay?" she asked.

He was sure he moaned an answer back to her, but he couldn't really remember because the heat and the way his muscles groaned and relaxed under her touch took away his speaking abilities. And then he felt a pair of lips touch his neck. They pressed eagerly and fluttered for a minute until they finally relinquished their quest.

He thought then of the woman he loved more than life itself, the one who had small but cute, cloud-soft breasts and an American accent that didn't have the harshest of twangs.

He thought of her voice that sounded like sweet honey dripping on a fresh pancake, the woman he'd been with for close to seventeen months. She was not the one touching him, kissing him.

A guilt so violent seized him and with a start he pushed Josephine's arms away and left the cramped office.

X O

"Remember to straighten your back when you go down into your plies," Normani said to Matilda over the drone of the classical music. Matilda complied and straightened her tiny back.

"Better?"

"Yes."

"Now do the entire routine again," Normani said.

Matilda nodded and went through the simple choreography Normani had taught her that morning. Over the past few days, they'd been down at the basement Mr Ikande had converted to a studio for Matilda to practice in.

As much as Normani loathed ballet, she didn't mind helping Matilda sharpen her technique and to keep her busy during the summer. It gave them the perfect opportunity to bond.

"That was good," Normani said.

"But was it great?" Matilda asked?

She looked like a perfect ballerina in a leotard and tutu, complete with tights and the slippers and her big hair done into the most perfect bun Normani had ever seen.

"You're getting there," Normani said.

Matilda sighed.

"I want to be spectacular. I want Madame to be blown away by how much I've improved over the summer while the other girls slacked off," Matilda said with determination in the thin timber of her voice.

"Hey, there's no need to be so hard on yourself. You're doing great Matilda, I promise, it's just that perfection cannot be achieved in a day, it takes years and years of dedication..."

"I wish I was like you. You are flawless, Normani. You just know what to do and how to do it, I don't even think you've ever made a mistake."

"Oh, that's definitely not true," Normani said with a light scoff, "I've been doing ballet for most of my life and I still mess up here and there. There are moments when my turns could've been sharper, my back straighter, my grace more prevalent. No one is perfect."

"Yeah but you've been doing ballet for centuries, I've barely been at it for long. You know the girls in my class? Many of them have doing ballet since they were in diapers. I came so late, it sucks."

"Listen to me," Normani said, walking up to the younger girl and placing her hands on her shoulders.

"You are a good dancer and you will get better. You shouldn't compare yourself to others because the only one in your lane is you. Okay?"

Matilda nodded and fixed her puppy dog eyes on Normani. They shared a hug.

It was then that Normani heard music coming from somewhere closeby.

"What is that?"

"That's Joseph, he has a music studio in the next room."

"Joseph is a musician? I didn't know," Normani said.

"Yeah he produces his own beats, writes his own lyrics, he sings too. He's really good."

"I bet," Normani replied. She was impressed with the beat she heard - it sounded like tropical RnB .

"Let's end off here, I'm sure you have some very important TV stuff to watch now," Normani said, well-aware of the younger girl's schedule.

"Bye Mani, see you later and thanks for today."

"Don't sweat it," Normani replied.

"The studio is the second door down the passageway," Matilda said.

"Thank you."

Normani found Joseph bent over his Macbook. Beside him were a few other instruments: a piano, a sound board and two mics.

"Hey," she said.

He turned his head and smiled, "hey girl."

"We heard your beats... Me and Matilda."

"Matilda and I," he said.

"Shut it," she replied and playfully rolled her eyes, "what're you working on?"

"Nothing much, I'm just re-arranging some things for a single I'm working on."

"I didn't know you were a musician until two seconds ago. Your little sister was singing your praises, I literally thought you were all about the academics."

Joseph was dressed in a pair of Adidas sweatpants and a matching sweater and white sneakers. He dressed his age but it was the full beard that made him look older than his twenty years - he was only a year younger than Normani. His hair was freshly combed and even from where she stood, she could smell his cologne.

"Nah, Uncle and Keith are about the academic life, music is the only thing I care about."

Joseph had an interesting accent, a pure Anglicised accent, kind of like Keith's but with tidbits of the heavy Nigerian accent she'd heard on Ayoola, Kalu and Keith's parents.

"Unlce?" Normani asked.

"I thought Keith had already told you, Keith's father is my uncle and Keith and Tilda are my cousins from my father's side."

"No he didn't tell me," Normani said, "is it like a secret?"

"Oh my god, no," he chuckled, "it's common news. My parents passed away a very long time ago and Uncle was kind enough to take me in, the only child to his only brother."

"Wow, I am so sorry about your parents."

"Thanks," he said.

Everything about Joseph was so laid back and warm, his entire aura emanated a calm easy and it was the first time she felt she could fully let her guard down since she'd gotten to Nigeria.

"What's the name of this song?"

"This one's called Another Sad Love Song, actually, I need a second pair of unbiased ears to listen to this," he said and pressed something on his laptop and soon the song started.

The lyrics were astonishingly heartfelt and deep for someone as laid back as Joseph and his voice sounded so forlorn as he sang 'I must be honest I have a lot of pride / but I'm broken inside / I guess this sounds like another sad love song / I can't get over how it all went wrong.'

Normani waited until the entire song was done.

"It's so sad but urban, like people can bob their heads enthusiastically to this and also cry. Wow I felt that."

Joseph smiled one of his radiant smiles again, "thanks."

"Is it about anyone in particular?"

"Yeah, this entire project is about what transpired between me and a girl."

"An ex?"

"We never got to that point."

"I'm sorry."

Joseph shrugged, "I'm glad you like the song though, it's more of my more vulnerable ones."

"It's so beautiful, Joseph. Your singing is beautiful and so are the lyrics. I am so awed, does Keith know you can sing like this? Because if he did and he still didn't tell me, I'm going to fight him."

"He thinks I just dabble in music like it's a hobby. He's heard a few of my things but because it doesn't sound like the local afrobeats he's not really into it."

"Well, his music taste does suck outside of afrobeat so I'm not surprised he doesn't know good RnB music when it hits him. Honestly this would do so well in international communities, they'd love you in Texas."

"Yeah, I know its more for international crowds. I even have a song titled American Teen, I got inspiration for it when I spent a few weeks in El Paso a few years back with Uncle, do you wanna hear it?"

"Hell yeah," Normani replied.

×

Normani and Joseph spent three hours in the studio and when they emerged from the basement and Normani felt alive and young and so inspired.

Joseph was a sensational artist and she didn't know why he hadn't taken the jump and published his music yet. Both of them went straight into the kitchen and Joseph raided the fridge for a snack.

It was a little after 15:00 so Normani was surprised when she heard the front door opening and in a few seconds, Keith had materialised at the kitchen entrance.

"Hey Babe," Normani said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. She walked over to him and hugged him tightly.

"Later guys," Joseph said and breezed past them to go to his bedroom.

Normani placed a kiss on his cheek while Keith watched her with an intensity that made electricity run down her spine.

"Mani," he said finally and she smiled at him. She was so happy to see him home so early. She thought he looked handsome in his new navy blue suit and his neatly combed hair.

"Yes, My Love?" she said and ran a hand through his short hair.

He cupped her chin and kissed her so deeply she felt her knees wobble. Normani could only breathe when he pulled away and before she could even say anything, he'd already scooped her into his arms and he was carrying her up the stairs to their bedroom.

She pulled on the handle and he used the momentum of their bodies to push them forward and the door opened. He deposited her on the bed and latched his lips onto hers again. He tasted like the shuku shuku Ayoola had made for dinner that he'd probably taken as lunch for the next day as well.

The coconut entered her mouth and settled on her tongue and the insides of her cheek while Keith began to undress without disconnecting their lips.

•∆•∆•

He was naked before she could even blink and then his hands were coming for her clothes. He tugged at her leggings while he bit at her neck. It was a tad bit uncomfortable because his bites verged more on pain than pleasure but Normani kept her eyes shut tight and held onto his shoulders. He took off her leggings along with her underwear in one swift motion and then he was pushing her down onto the bed.

"Babe," Normani said, "slow down."

"No time," he huffed, completely out of breath and pressed her back onto the bed with his one arm. His eyes were so dark they looked black, the pupils were so dilated they took up the entire space of his eye.

She felt his member against her thigh and he was already as hard as a rock. She was startled when she felt him rubbing against her, lining up and preparing to slip inside of her.

Usually, he would take his time in warming her up, ensuring that she was well aroused and comfortable but today, he hadn't even taken off her bra. She had taken off her own shirt but he didn't seem at all that interested in her upper body.

She knew she'd be able to take him because from the moment she'd seen him down at the kitchen thighs had trembled in excitement, as they always had whenever she was near him.

She felt a twinge of pain spread through her pelvis as Keith pushed himself in, as always, because as much as they had sex, he was still big. Almost immediately he started thrusting at a fast pace, with one hand digging into her hip and the other in her bra.

This too verged more on pain that pleasure because he was being so passionate, so devoid of his usual slow, gentle thrusts. Her heart thrummed in excitement and she clutched at him.

She was surprised when she felt him pulling out and then turning her over. He was back inside of her like an impatient child ploughing through an ice-cream on a hot day.

Normani couldn't keep her groans discrete as they became more uncontrollable the harder Keith thrusted. It felt like the bed was vibrating with them in that erratic, fast paced way that they were going, matching them stroke for stroke.

Normani felt her eyes roll back into her head when the pleasure became too much and she nearly screamed in delirium when she finally trembled into an orgasm. She'd barely recovered when she felt Keith's impatient member entering her again and on and on they went.

By the time Keith was done with her, her entire lower body stung in a way it had never stung before and she was absolutely exhausted. She felt like she'd run fifty marathons and was about ready to pass out and sleep for an eternity.

Her body stung with all of the bites and the nail marks Keith had left on her hips and her back. She lay limp like a rag doll on the bed and she felt Keith finally freeing her breasts of the bra she hadn't taken off.

She felt Keith rubbing her back in gentle circles now and she felt the heat of the last sun's rays pool at her naked back.

"Keith," she mumbled.

"Sleep Awelewa," he crooned.

"I love you," she said.

"Get some rest," he replied and her eyes fluttered shut.

Translations (any Yoruba speakers, correct me if this is wrong please)

se o ko gbo mi - do you not hear me?

Binu - sorry

Beeni - yes

Dawo duro - stop it

ok so how are we all feeling about keith right now? i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below and also if you liked this chapter then please give me your stars. 🌞

-dzangie💛