𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞

Chapter Thirty -Two

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Looking at herself in the mirror, Imani wondered what to do about her swollen lips.

"Look how swollen they look, she pouted, giving Matthew an accusatory look in the mirror.

"You're stunning," he grinned, and she scowled, threading her fingers through her hair.

"Even my hair looks different," she said sotto voce, her brows furrowed as if she was trying to figure out what was different with it.

"It does?" Matthew asked, moving his eyes from her lips to the hair.

"Yes, it looks more glossy."

He chortled, moving to stand beside her, both looking at Imani's image in the mirror.

"Your face looks more flushed. Though that is understandable considering what we just did."

"Matthew, you're not helping. Do you think sex makes hair appear radiant?"

"I guess," he mumbled, smoothening it back. "Though I don't see the difference. It always looks beautiful and lustrous to me."

She stopped to tie it midair to look at him. Her eyes changed to glassy when she zeroed them on him, staring, telling him without words how much he meant to her. They stared at each other as if they were the only people in the world until she lowered her face for a moment and then returned to find his eyes gleaming with mischief, looking as if he knew something she didn't know, perhaps he did considering how many affairs he had had in the past. She could have said something, but she noticed how ruffled his hair was from her fingers and she suddenly felt better.

His image had changed completely from that of a powerful man he had seemed a couple of minutes ago to this disheveled man whose calm demeanor had not fully returned. Imani could have done a jig if she were alone. She felt intoxicated at having the power to ruffle him.

The way he still stared at her like she was his entire world. It scared and thrilled her at the same time partly because she knew they both had no future together.

Someday, she would muster the courage to ask whether that intense look in his eyes when he looked at her was love, but that required more than courage, it required the responsibility of dealing with the answer.

"I can't get enough of you," Matthew admitted, pulling her into his arms.

"I can't get enough of you either." Imani burrowed in his neck for a few seconds before disentangling from his arms.

"I'll have to lie about my appearance," she mumbled to herself, but please wipe your lips before you see anyone, my lipstick is all over you. Oh my God! Are those my tooth marks on your neck?" she looked horrified but Matthew laughed out loud when he turned to look at them, taking off his shirt to see them clearly.

"Do you think you were unconsciously marking me?"

"This is not the time to joke around!"

"I'm not joking, I'm serious."

"No, Matthew I wasn't marking you."

"Oh, that is disappointing," he cleared his voice, walking to another room within the bedroom, Imani followed to find him pulling a sky blue shirt."

"No. You have to wear a white one," she pronounced as if it should have been obvious to him.

"Why?" She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he was messing with her.

"Because you had a white one before we had sex," she whispered the last word like she was afraid to say it loud. Matthew grinned, entranced at how beautiful she looked—flushed and radiant. She was, without a doubt the only woman he could ever want as much.