“Ledi,” he whispered, and then prayed she didn’t respond with a name that wasn’t his. He paused, reality creeping in at the edges of his pleasure.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, misunderstanding. “Better than fine.”
She pulled his mouth to hers and thrust her hips toward him, taking him into her completely. Thabiso couldn’t say what happened then. He went up onto his elbows so he could look at her as he thrust like a madman, performing acrobatics with his hips that most certainly could only have been the result of possession. He was fit, he knew that, and he put every ounce of his musculature to work with the single goal of giving her pleasure. And when her eyes went wide with shocked arousal, when her head pressed back into the futon and her hands grasped his hips and the sheets and anything that could provide purchase, he slid his hand between them again and pressed at her clit.
She let out a short, sharp cry as the orgasm crashed into her, but he’d already felt it coming from deep within. Her inner walls squeezed him tightly, again and again, and he let go a hoarse cry of his own as his senses shorted out from pleasure.
He collapsed on top of her and she swatted weakly at him, so he used his last ounce of strength to roll onto his side and take her with him. He inhaled, taking in the scent of her hair oils, her sweat, her soap.
“Are you sniffing me?” she asked, snuggling closer to him. Her kinky curls pressed into his arm, and her breath tickled his chest hairs.
“Maybe.” He grabbed some tissues from the box next to the bed and disposed of the condom. He heard scuttling across the room and turned to find two sets of beady eyes focused on him.
“Your mice were watching us,” he said as he pulled her back into his embrace. “Voyeuristic vermin. That’s a first.”
“I knew those two were freaky.” She giggled, truly carefree for perhaps the first time since he’d known her. His heart constricted painfully as he looked at her. Being watched by rodents wasn’t the only first for him that night. He didn’t want to investigate whatever it was he was feeling for her—not when everything he hadn’t said came crashing back down, sucking all of the amazing after-sex feeling from him and leaving him with the realization that she still thought he was Jamal. Just Jamal.
She still didn’t know about him, or her parents, or her homeland, and she shouldn’t have known what he felt like pushing inside of her before any one of those things.
His body went cold, his hold on her slackened.
“Ledi. Look, we really need to talk.” He pinched his nose as he sorted just exactly how he was going to explain himself, especially while sitting naked as a mangy hyena.
She stopped laughing and leaned back, away from him. Just like that, the openness was gone. “Hey, don’t go getting weird now. It was just sex.”
She hopped out of the bed and headed for the bathroom.
He sat up, and stared after her, her words dashing away even his own self-loathing. “Pardon? Just sex? That was not just sex.”
“It definitely was. Exhibit A, I’m going to pee now so I don’t get a urinary tract infection. Something you do after just having sex.” She shrugged and went into the bathroom; she didn’t slam the door.
“Ledi, there is a misunderstanding underway right now.” Thabiso paused, and then dropped his head in his hands. “There are actually several misunderstandings going on. How about we clear up this fairly simple one. That wasn’t ‘just sex’ for me. I like you a lot and nothing has changed.”
The toilet flushed. Water ran, and he heard her humming the happy birthday song, and then the water stopped.
He pulled on his boxers and jeans and shirt and finally she stepped out, now wearing a pink bathrobe that would have been cute if her gaze hadn’t been so wary.
“Okay. It was pretty good just sex,” she said with a shrug that he supposed was meant to indicate she was indifferent. But she sat down beside him anyway, folding her legs beneath her and exposing a smooth brown stretch of thigh. He traced his knuckle down her knee and over the sensitive skin, then stopped and took her hand.
“Look—”
Just then, there was a pounding at the door. Ledi squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, hopping out of bed as a second barrage of knocks sounded in the quiet.
“Portia, I’m sorry but this really isn’t a good time,” she said as she swung the door open. “Oh.”
She looked back over her shoulder at him. “It’s for you.”
Dread gathered in his stomach, but he rose and faced Likotsi’s stern glare anyway.
“Jamal.”
The single word was rife with accusation and disgust.
“Erm. Hello.” He didn’t know how to explain her presence to Naledi. “This is my friend.”
“Pleasure to meet you again,” Likotsi said with a sweet smile for Naledi, but her dour expression returned when she faced him. “There is a problem. I’ve received news from your family and, before you ask, no, it cannot wait. I’m sorry to interrupt your fun, but this is extremely important.”
“Well,” Ledi said, obviously uncomfortable, “we can talk tomorrow about the trust fund stuff. Wait, you’re not like, a rich serial killer or an investment banker or anything, right?”
Thabiso huffed. “I already told you I’m not a serial killer.”