Mrs Jaxa

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I hear the sound of heels clicking against the tiles approaching us. I try to shake this man off me but he's not budging. He's like a kid glued to a toy they want their parents to buy at a store.

"Bhuti, I know you're in here because both your cars are par-"

The clicking of the heels comes to an abrupt stop, and I scan my eyes around the area visible to my eyes hoping to spot whoever they are, but I still don't have a view of them. The voice sounds very familiar, but I can't quite pinpoint whom it belongs to.

"Ayanda, what are you doing in my house?" Dali grumpily asks, raising his head from the crook of my neck.

"I'm sorry I didn't know you have company," Ayanda says softly.

I'm desperately trying to see the face of this person, but it's clear that they are somewhere behind me, so I have no option but to wait until they show their faces.

"That's not what I asked you," the big man in front of me deadpans.

He may have removed his head from my neck, but he's still standing in between my thighs, his hands still glued on my ass.

"I came to see you," the lady responds, clicking her heels further into the house.

"Okay, you've seen me, now you can go." Me and the Ayanda lady both gasp.

"Are you seriously kicking me out right now?"

I stare into this man's eyes, but he's staring behind me. This can only mean that this Ayanda lady is coming from behind me.

"I'll give you two some space," I whisper, dropping my arms from around his neck to his chest.

I can't help but wonder how he looks beneath this vest because his chest is firm as hell. His eyes snap down to mine and he scrunches his brows together.

"Did I ask you to give us space?" His soft and baby-like demeanour, vanishing almost instantly.

I shake my head no and lower my eyes from his to my very exposed thighs. I squirm in my chair trying to fix the t-shirt but I'm struggling since his hands are glued on my ass.

Has this man forgotten that I'm not wearing any underwear beneath this t-shirt? What if his guest -

"She won't see anything if you remain still," he says, as though reading my mind.

I don't even look up at him, I just nod and keep my head hung low. I mean what else can I say? I am sitting in his kitchen with him between my legs and my entire vagina spread wide open.

"You didn't tell me you have a girlfriend," the Ayanda lady says in disbelief and excitement just before throwing something clunky on the kitchen island.

Her musky and floral scent dance in my nostrils. Her scent is familiar... very familiar.

I want to protest and say I'm not his girlfriend but this man in front of me is quick to respond.

"How's me having a girlfriend, any of your business?" He shoots, tilting his head at her.

I've learnt one thing about this man; he can be rude, yho.

"Aw, bhuti. Aren't I your sister?" Ayanda, in a whiny voice asks.

"You are, and?" He asks, tilting his neck further to the side.

I can't imagine ever having a sibling as rude as he is and I'm only assuming that they are siblings since she refers to him as bhuti, but then again, in the African community, we are taught to refer to people older than us, not the elderly, as sisi or bhuti so it could also be that who knows.