𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞

Chapter Thirty-Four

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Imani loved going to work. When Matthew first suggested she work in his company, she'd assumed he wanted her to be at his beck and call; she remembered how angry she had been at him. But he respected her enough to agree to her terms and conditions in every way in their relationship. She called the shots, and she sometimes felt terrible at how much she insisted on getting her own way, but she would remember one of her consolations was that if anything went wrong—anything, big or small, she would pay the price; Matthew would remain as he is—handsome, successful, and wealthy, not a single speckle of mud smeared all over her life would touch the tips of his expensive shoes.

The best part about having a best friend is telling them stuff you know they could never repeat to a soul. Imani found that in Matthew. He was her friend as much as he was her lover, the light at the end of a busy day. She talked of work and people she met in his office; interestingly, Matthew did not know half the people in her office.

"Imagine paying thousands of dollars to people you've never met." she joked, palming his face while sitting astride him one evening, a glass of red wine in the other hand and a fire burning to keep them warm. It was romantic and memorable. Every time they met, Imani took that memory, carefully folded it, and kept it in her heart because she knew they'd come a time when she would need to retrieve it to feel a fraction of the happiness she experienced when hanging out with him.

"Millions, actually." he pointed out, as a matter of fact, as if it meant nothing to him.

With the glass of wine almost touching her lips, Imani suddenly paused from taking a sip to look at him. "Are you bragging?"

He appeared confused at the question. "Do you even know how to brag?"

He smiled mischievously, nodding vigorously. "I once beat Bruno at an eating competition."

Imani let out a delighted laugh, putting her forehead on his. "I know him."

Matthew narrowed his eyes at her.

"Christ, Matt!" She gently slapped his arm, "I didn't dance for him. I remember him from father Josè's mosaic of images."

He gave her a crooked smile, biting the corner of his bottom lip; Imani couldn't stop from leaning over and giving him a smooch. "And honestly, how would I have known who he was even if I did work the pole for him?"

He looked repulsed by her wording, and she kissed him again, smiling into his eyes. "Is this a new habit?" He raised his eyebrow, which gave him a rugged appearance with dark stubble covering his cheeks; Imani put her wine on the coffee table before running her fingers over it. "What is?" she pretended not to know, and Matthew pinched her rear. She squealed her hands around his neck, drawing him to her neck.

"For the record, I like it," he said, kissing the column of her neck.

"Before you kiss me to oblivion, why were you bragging about beating Bruno at an eating competition.?"

He laughed softly, "because he likes food."

"I thought we all do."

"Not the way he does."

Imani whimpered when Matthew's mouth closed over her nipple, even with her top still on; she could feel the sensation right to her toes.

Making love with Matthew was more like magic than reality; truth be told, Imani wanted it to remain like that, with her feet suspended in the air because soon they would come crashing down like waves.

"We can't possibly do this again. I just dressed up." she managed to murmur between kisses.

"I warned you not to." He responded, kissing her lower lip as if it held a secret he wanted to pull out.