Chapter Four
1097 Words
TWO DAYS AFTER HE LEFT
Maya was not okay.
On the outside? Glowing. Fresh twist out. Clear skin. Laptop open. On the inside? A woman spiraling emotionally in a robe that still smelled faintly like him.
She hadn’t texted Leo. He hadn’t texted either. Which was somehow worse.
“I need to grow up,” she told herself, scrolling her timeline and double tapping on a stranger’s quote: “Healing isn’t linear. Sometimes you heal by unblocking, then stalking.”
She snorted bitterly and typed his name into i********:.
@LeoMwaura.ke — public profile. Recent post: a pic of him shirtless, holding a mug, smirking like he knew she’d be watching. Caption: “Sunday mornings done right.”
The mug? Her mug. The shirt he wasn’t wearing? Her bed.
She stared.
And then she saw the comments.
> @IamSashaJay: “Who's taking these thirst traps? 👀”
> @ElayneWambui: “You STILL drink tea shirtless huh? 😏”
> @Nelly_X: “You left my bed to go take selfies again?? 😂😂”
Maya blinked. Jaw tight. Stomach turning.
Vanessa called again.
“Answering your phone would be cute, Maya.”
“I’m working.”
“You’re stalking.”
“Don’t project.”
Vanessa sighed. “You saw the post, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t go crazy.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“You’re rubbing your thighs together like you’re trying to start a fire.”
Maya paused. Looked down. Guilty.
Vanessa said gently, “Come to dinner. I’m bringing someone.”
“No.”
“Just show face. A cute face. With makeup and revenge in your walk.”
LATER THAT NIGHT – THE DINNER
Location: a dim-lit rooftop restaurant in Kilimani.
Mood: wine, jazz, regrets.
Maya wore a backless black dress that hugged her ass like sin. Her lipstick? Red enough to provoke war. Vanessa waved her over at the reserved table. Seated beside her? A tall man in his early thirties, wearing a navy blazer and the kind of cologne that says “I own land and respond to emails with ‘per my last message.’”
“This is Malcolm,” Vanessa said. “Investment banker. Drama-free. Has a retirement plan.”
Maya extended a polite hand. “Maya.”
“Beautiful name,” Malcolm said. “Fits you.”
He was charming. Smart. Asked the right questions. Didn’t mention s*x. Didn’t lean in too close. Too perfect.
So, naturally, Maya’s v****a was bored.
MEANWHILE – AT A BAR IN WESTLANDS
Leo was with his boys, trying to pretend he was unbothered.
Brian (yes, that Brian) was there too. Not helping.
“So you let her go after one round?” Brian asked, sipping whiskey. “Weak.”
“I didn’t ‘let’ her go,” Leo said.
Brian smirked. “She’s here with a banker tonight.”
Leo’s jaw clenched. “You’re lying.”
“Nope. Vanessa posted a story. I recognize that rooftop. I took my ex there to break up with her gently.”
“You’re sick.”
“Thanks.”
Leo opened i********:. Clicked on Vanessa’s story. There she was. Maya. Laughing. Hair bouncing. Side profile glowing.
His chest tightened. Jealousy was a new, ugly flavor in his mouth.
BACK AT THE DINNER
Malcolm walked her to the car.
“You’re... something,” he said. “Can I take you out again?”
Before she could answer, a voice cut through the night air.
“She’s busy.”
Leo.
Standing by the parking lot in a black hoodie and jeans, looking furious.
Malcolm frowned. “Who...?”
“Her ex,” Maya snapped. “Ignore him.”
“I’m not your ex,” Leo said, stepping closer. “You don’t get to call me that.”
“You walked out.”
“Because you pushed.”
“I needed space.”
“And I gave it. Now you’re using it to test if I care?”
Malcolm looked between them. “I can come back another time...”
“No,” Maya snapped. “Stay.”
Leo ignored him. His eyes were locked on her.
“You looked happy tonight,” he said, voice lower. “Too happy for someone who moaned my name less than 48 hours ago.”
Her eyes flared. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Flatter? Maya, you cried on my dick.”
Malcolm coughed.
Maya gasped. “You absolute i***t!”
Leo stepped close. “You want safe? Pick him. But don’t pretend you don’t want me.”
She slapped him.
It wasn’t dramatic. It was restrained. But it landed.
Leo didn’t flinch. He just whispered, “You feel better?”
“No,” she snapped. “I feel like dragging you home and either punching you or sitting on your face. I can’t decide.”
“Do both,” he growled.
Malcolm blinked. “I’m just going to... let you two sort this out.”
He walked off.
HER APARTMENT – 20 MINUTES LATER
She stormed in. Leo followed.
“You’re an asshole.”
“You love it.”
“I hate that I love it.”
“Then hate me from the bed.”
He grabbed her waist and kissed her—rough, desperate. Their bodies collided, teeth clashing, tongues fighting.
She pulled his hoodie off. He tugged her dress down. No underwear. He smirked.
“You came prepared.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t bring a machete.”
He lifted her onto the counter again. Déjà vu. Except this time, there was no patience.
He spread her legs. Ate her out like a man starving. Tongue flicking, lips sucking, two fingers curling perfectly.
“f**k, Leo...”
She came hard, thighs shaking.
He stood, pulled out his c**k, and slid into her in one deep stroke. No teasing. No games.
Just raw, fast, brutal f*****g. The kind that said “I miss you” in every thrust.
She clung to him, screaming into his neck, biting his shoulder.
He flipped her around, bent her over the couch, and rammed into her again. She came again, squirting all over him.
He kept going until they both collapsed, panting, sweaty, dazed.
AFTER
He lay behind her, stroking her hip.
“You drive me insane,” she whispered.
“You make me crazy,” he murmured.
“And yet I’d still choose you over the banker.”
He smiled, kissing her shoulder. “Good. Because the only numbers I care about are how many times I can make you come.”
She laughed into the pillow. “Toxic.”
“Addictive.”
- Writer
