ᢉ𐭩-After Her
546 Words
The door shut behind them with a heavy thud, muffling the noise of the club.
Azir slid into the passenger seat of Kofi's black Escalade, the leather cool against his back.
Kofi got in behind the wheel, jaw tight, hands gripping the steering wheel like he was still holding back something he wanted to act on.
For a moment, neither man spoke.
The engine hummed low, the city lights reflecting off the windshield in streaks of gold and violet.
Azir chuckled under his breath.
"She got you quiet as hell," he said, glancing over with that sly, knowing smirk. "Didn't think a woman could do that to you."
Kofi didn't look at him.
He put the car in drive, easing out of the parking lot with slow, controlled movements.
"Ou wè kijan li gade?" Kofi said finally.
You saw the way she looked?
Azir's smile faded into something sharper.
"Yeah," he said. "Like she wanted to say yes... but she was scared to trust it."
Kofi hummed low in his throat, eyes narrowing on the road.
"No," he said. "Not scared. Careful."
The distinction mattered to him.
Azir leaned back in the seat, tapping his fingers on the console.
"She's different."
Kofi gave him a look. "You think I don't know that?"
"You're acting like you do," Azir shot back, amused.
Another stretch of silence filled the car, thick with unspoken things.
Kofi finally exhaled through his nose—a quiet, frustrated sound.
"That girl..." he murmured, shaking his head slightly.
"She's soft. All heart. All instinct. She feel everything before she know what she feel."
Azir nodded once, slow.
"Yeah. And she listens. Pays attention. Doesn't play dumb."
Kofi's grip tightened, leather creaking under his fingers.
"She told us she felt safe," he said, voice low, weighted.
"Mwen pa pran pawòl sa yo alalejè."
(I don't take words like that lightly).
Azir studied him out of the corner of his eye.
"You're already attached," he said flatly.
Kofi didn't deny it.
He didn't need to.
"I like the way she looks at us," he said instead.
"Like she don't know whether to run... or kneel."
Azir let out a slow breath — half laugh, half something darker.
"Yeah," he said. "She got that submissive quiet... but she fights herself about it."
"Mhmm." Kofi's voice dipped deeper.
"She'll stop fighting soon."
Azir's eyes flicked toward him.
"You think she'll let us train her?"
Kofi smirked — small, controlled, but carrying heat.
"She already started training herself," he said.
"You saw how she listened when I told her look at me?"
Azir's jaw flexed at the memory.
How quickly she responded.
How her breath hitched.
How her thighs pressed together.
"Yeah," he said quietly.
"I saw."
Kofi took a turn, city lights flashing across his face.
"We take our time with her," he decided aloud.
"Let her feel us before we touch."
Azir nodded in agreement, voice lower now.
"And when she's ready..."
Kofi finished the sentence for him.
"...she'll come to us."
Azir smirked.
"No—she'll ask."
Kofi's laugh was dark and approving.
The car hummed under them, their silence now full of intent.
Mo had no idea the kind of storm she'd walked into.
But both men?
They already knew exactly what they wanted.
- Writer
