I'M NOT YOUR WOMAN. (✓)

07. mistake.

|◁ II ▷|

daniel caesar — transform.

THE LIPS OF THE LOTHARIO had almost caused Maya to lose her sense of self as she was the one who had leant in — he almost roped her into a sea of fallen women who had fell victim to the horny beast.

But she gathered her composure at the last minute.

Ebén's heart, or that organ inside his wide chest, was unsurprisingly dark and intense. Lust was this invisible force that caused him to care up until he nutted, then he'd go back to being dark-hearted.

She no longer did question why women ended up giving him the time of day. At the time, she presumed most of them gullibly bought into the things he said. But she knew — now first hand, that the man was annoyingly relentless. He always seemed to be on one hundred; never letting up.

It seemed, to Maya at least, that it was supposedly criminal to leave famished men like him hungry. But she had never been one to part with her self respect at the expense of getting laid.

If the restive woman was going to teach Ebén anything — she wanted him to know that she hated men, and didn't believe in love.

Her heart was as black as they came.

Centre-stage, his deep-brown eyes had her under his purview whilst his other needs were being met. His glimmering smile shot her back a this-could-be-yours look as he let his date claw her way down his pants. Sex was undoubtedly a performance to Ebén — Maya preferred quiet passion in the confines of her bed.

Being the only one in attendance had Maya deeply aroused, but not in the way that she wanted to swap places with Ebén's date, but more that she missed sex — the feeling; but not the intimacy.

She couldn't recall the last time that her own needs had been met and was curious as to when she'd feel those things again.

She found herself recalling the texture of his lips. They didn't taste sour, like she thought they would.

I guess the practice of making out with a lot of woman does help, she mused silently — as she couldn't help but wonder what his number was.

Maya was sure that it had to be something in the thousands, especially with how women were unafraid to boldly throw themselves at him.

And he didn't necessarily object.

He was a single man after all.

Samuel's eyes were wry with slight concern after she made her way back to the table, visibly flustered and a tad bit shaken up. It made Ebén's intentions seem less honourable the more she had a think.

She was just his new, shiny toy until he found something new to play with.

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Blaze hadn't heard her come in last night but that didn't stop her barrage of questions the next morning — especially when she had played Cupid.

"How are you feeling?" she hinted, with a spoonful of scrambled eggs stuffed in her cheeks. She tapped her silver spoon against the ceramic bowl rim; expecting a whole host of things the pair had done.

"Fine?" said Maya, all nonchalant.

She did not have details to tell — well she did, she just wasn't ready to tell them yet.

"So, you're all good down there? No soreness?"

Blaze's attempt at being vague didn't suit her. She liked to be crude, especially with sex and Maya was in the mood to play along — after all, she didn't like the fact that she had been set up.