Quicksand

09|| Bad Behaviours

9

Bad Behaviours

THE RAIN WAS UNBELIEVABLE. The gushing wind carried away anything that was outside that had no roots to the ground. Amara watched the chaos in the comfort of her home, on the window seat. Furious drops threatened to shatter the windows. It was as if there was some treasure in the room and they demanded to be let in on the spoils.

The streets were empty except for the flickering lights. Not a soul in sight in the darkness of the night. No fevered whispers, no drunken gait. Her mind wandered to all the people that had no roof over their heads and her heart shattered.

There was a cigarette perched between her lips. She tasted the flavour, inhaled the familiar scent. Each inhale felt like a breath of air which was ironic considering the horrid behaviour. But there it was- a sweet escape, a brief release from the world she was trapped in. She didn't know what was harder, trying to quit smoking or learning to love herself.

Her phone buzzed beside her. Andrew called again for the countless time since they last saw each other a week ago. Again, she ignored his call until it stopped ringing. He was too intense. He made her feel things she had no business feeling.

She tried to call Blu for the fourth time that evening. The subscriber cannot be reached. Please try again later. Lately, Blu barely picked her calls and when she did, she didn't sound like herself. Amara was worried. She planned to visit her but lately, it seemed like there was no time.

Amara scrambled from the window and picked the bottle of wine on the kitchen table. A gold-coloured Chenin Blanc, very soft and rich. It tasted like heaven on her tongue. Dancing to some soca music, she drank straight from the bottle. A numbness crept into her brain the minute the cold liquid kissed her tongue. She closed her eyes and relished in the feeling.

For the past three days, she had tried every trick she read online to cure insomnia. Nothing helped. Nine o'clock morphed into ten and then eleven. The time trickled by, marked only by those changing, glowing numerals. Her mind remained blank; where there should have been dreams, was a heavy blackness.

A soft knock on the door alerted her. Without a second thought, Amara opened it. She wasn't prepared for what faced her on the other side.

"Bakari? W... " Her voice was caught in her throat mid-way. "What..."

"Amara." His voice was hard and soft at the same time. Rich in all ingredients necessary to cause havoc on any human being. "Hey?"

"What...what are you doing here?"

A slow, seductive smile spread across his face. He stood perfect, all six feet of him. The dark ropes of his hair had been threaded with cylinders of gold; the mane surrounded a face which was fine-planed and flawless. Rain, dripping from the blue dress shirt that clung to his sturdy body, defined every muscle. He looked like a Viking ready to go to war. A man of valour armed to defend anything that came between him and his mission.

Slowly, he pushed the wet locks away from his face. "I was in town for business and I had to see you."

Bakari was Blu's brother-in-law, Eric's younger brother. The general manager of their strings of hotels. They met at Blu's wedding. At first, they were friends because she was in a relationship with Zach. Then, after she moved to Khana, they messed around in secret. Amara felt that their affair might ruin her life, but that didn't stop her. She liked the idea, in fact, welcomed the distraction. It had been a long time since she'd felt her life was in danger of further ruin, and it was fun to think it was possible.

"So, you came looking for me?" Her brow raised in confusion. "Did Blu tell you where I live?"

He seemed to not have heard her question because instead of explaining himself, he moved closer. Amara had no excuse whatsoever for not moving when his hands gripped her waist. Different emotions churned inside her at that very moment, and powerful inexcusable lust for Bakari was the more dominant one.

The kiss came out of nowhere. His lips smashed against hers with a force that was shattering. She moved away from him and gazed into his eyes. Her mind was a surging perplexity while he had the most phlegmatic expression on his face. Smirking, he dipped his head and kissed her as if she was the last breath of oxygen he could take in.

Alcohol had to be the only explanation for her acquiescence. Amara jumped into his arms and he caught her as if she weighed nothing more than a doll.

Tramp!

A voice screamed in her mind.

Bakari walked into the house and shut the door with his foot. With both his hands flat on the door, Amara had to hang onto his neck. He still tasted like she remembered, all-male and masculine and raw and tempting. Things surged into her mind, a voice presiding.

Tramp!

Amara tried to convince herself that they were just thoughts, that she could brush them away and the morality of what they were doing wouldn't matter. The thought was just that, an infraction of the mind, so how was it that it could still carry a hangover of guilt? Why was it that an infraction of the mind brought such internal torment?

"Sorry. I made you wet." He stopped the thoughts, letting her slide off his body. He was the devil himself, dirtying her with the vilest of thoughts. "Where is your bathroom?"

"In my bedroom," she muttered. "Behind the wall against my headboard."

"Come with me."

Piling reproach after reproach upon herself, Amara added a lack of self-control to her brutality. This was the beginning of the end. She ran her fingers through her kiss-swollen lips, trying to soothe the pain. But Bakari smiled carelessly, and she followed him.

"I had a long day at work. I need a shower." Next thing she knew, her back was on the cold tile of the bathroom and Bakari was hovering above her. "Remember how we used to like taking showers together."

"My hair..."

The warm water splashed but all Amara felt was hot, extremely hot. Breathing heavily, she watched him from underneath her long, wet lashes. He snapped the buttons of his shirt and yanked it from his body and looked back at her with lust in his eyes.

"It's been a minute..."

"Yeah," she breathed out. "I mean, the last ..."

His mouth descended on hers roughly, muffling her words. She made some foreign sounds, but the moment his lips moved against hers, she became pliant. Amara kissed him back, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, as he scooped her up by the sides, deepening the kiss.

"Nice to see you again," he stated with a flick of his finger over her taut nipple. "Although I'd very much like to see you with fewer clothes."

Her body shook as his fingers grasped the hem of the t-shirt, tugging it, while she was still suspended on air. Doubt crept in her while he studied her, naked body. Amara gazed into his eyes and what she saw almost killed her. The rawest kind of lust masked his eyes. The kind of lust that turned anyone into putty or made people obsessed.

"What are we doing?"

His smile dropped her heart to her stomach. "I don't think modesty looks good on you, Amara. You're the wildest woman I know, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you."

"Yet you still left."

He pressed himself into her. He dipped his head to the crook of her neck. "Do you want to talk, or do you want to feel?"

Amara writhed from his arms to the floor. Somehow she managed to shove his back to the wall despite his size. Her shaky hands reached for his belt buckle and she yanked it off. Her head went down, as she kissed every curve on his chest, wet from both the rain and the water in the shower, down to the beginning of his hairs. He was so sinfully sexy and the sound he made at the touch of her lips, sent a myriad of sensation sweeping through her.

"Amara..." He grabbed her arms and snapped her up into his arms. "I have you all night, right?"

"Yeah," she breathed.

Tramp!