Preordained #ProjectNigeria

27- You Go Lose Control

Song: Is This Love by Bob Marley (build up playlist at end of chapter!)

Maduka's POV~

"Gladly," I say before drawing her closer, deliberately taking my time--against all urges-- so she has time to change her mind.

What the hell are fireworks? I wonder when my lips move over hers. She tastes of Coke and the smokey, spicy sweetness of suya, moist and warm and intoxicating in ways that I can't explain. Her breath tickles my face, her hands grip the front of my shirt when I deepen the kiss and she moans.

And trust me, it is not a sound I'd want to hear in public.

She's going to kill me, I think, my head spinning. Nwanyieze raises a hand to my cheek, runs it over my facial hair and down the side of my neck, making me groan in pleasure.

Stop. Just stop.

Reluctantly, I withdraw and she leans backwards, looks up at the sky sprinkled with a few stars, and says nothing.

Equally speechless, I look up at the sky too, trying to regain the control I've always been praised for. It isn't easy, though, because just a taste of her left me wanting more, and it amuses me how ready I am to kiss her all night long (that is, if she doesn't get pissed and slap me or something).

"Well, it's certain, then," she finally speaks.

"What is?"

"Our bodies like each other."

"Our minds liked each other way before all this."

She giggles. "What if I'm just pretending? Acting?"

"I refuse to believe that."

"I have no experience in all of this, Maduka. It's all new to me. I-" she stops abruptly and says nothing more, and I desperately wish she'd continue.

"You what?"

"Nothing."

"Are you upset?"

"No."

"Maybe I should've said no. But the truth is, I've been wanting to kiss you for a long time now."

"I know. Me too."

The statement makes me laugh out loud and she joins me, falling back on the blanket and shaking. Suddenly everything becomes funny. When she points out a little boy rolling his hips to Cynthia Morgan's Simanti Niya where the crowd dances, I roar in laughter. When I tell her that Shakira has nothing on the child, she laughs harder. And the fact that we are laughing at things that are not meant to be funny, makes us laugh till tears roll down our cheeks.

"Let's dance," she suggests.

Now it is totally dark, but the lights from the poles dimly illuminate the shoreline and Mr Eazi's trademark "Zaga that!" booms from the speakers before Skin tight begins to play. I rise up and stretch a hand to her, which she takes and I pull her to her feet.

"Perfect song," she says, and I know there is a cynical grin on her face.

"Tell me about it," I agree.

"Will our stuff be safe here? The food and all?"

"Of course."

She takes dance to a whole new level. Her movements are coordinated, hips rolling, shoulders and arms moving in fluid motion. We're barely on the floor for five minutes before other interested males move in and try to grind against her. So to avoid them, she comes to put her back against me instead.

"Sorry, just help me out," she whispers into my ear, barely giving me time to adjust.

You see, there is something about having a woman place her back against you. Not just because she has her behind against you, but also because there's an intimacy to it, the way she fits nicely against you.

Her scent, that earthy,natural, coconut-spiced scent and the warmth of her body against me make me look skywards again, hoping I had worn my tightest briefs today because Lord knows, I'm pretty sure Nwanyieze won't ever want to see my face again if she feels something odd against her rear.

What the hell, Maduka? I query myself.

Yes, it must be the kiss. That is the reason for the sudden malfunction of my body; it has made my blood levels of testosterone go way beyond the usual.

Are you still a teenager?

Suddenly P-Square's Busy Body comes on. The song is a decade old, but that doesn't stop us from yelling in surprise and pleasure with the crowd.

Boy you know say if I give you body, body
You go soji, soji
You no go fit run the M-I-C
Omo you go lose control...

The choice of song makes me smile wryly. This loss of control didn't start today; it started the moment I met Nwanyieze.
I make her face me, halfway through the song. I'm grateful for the dim lights, not entirely allowing darkness because I can see her smile, and not too bright either because I fear she's going to take one long look at me and know how I feel.

She's having so much fun, occasionally making funny dance moves and laughing. This is how I want to see her all the time, laughing instead of being so serious and silent.

We dance to so many songs, never once leaving each other to mingle with the crowd.

"I think I've had enough," she pants after a while, as Wizkid's Baba Nla plays. Because we're out in the open, the music isn't too loud and we don't need to yell to be heard. Sweat shines on her forehead, and I take a mental note to get her some chilled water immediately.

"Yes, let's rest," I agree. I take her hand, loving how mine almost covers it. It pleases me that she doesn't protest, too.

"I haven't danced in a while."

"Seems you love it."

"When I was little, I wanted to be a professional dancer. My Daddy always said-"

The way she pauses makes me stop walking and turn to face her. The look on her face is one of shock.

"What is it, Nwanyieze?" I ask, alarmed.

"Our stuff, they've taken them!"

I follow the direction of her gaze and my brows shoot up in surprise.

The spot we had occupied is empty. Our food and blanket are nowhere to be found.

"Are you with your purse?" I ask.

"Yes, I wore it all along."

My phone and wallet are in my pocket, so I don't feel so bad. Instead, I burst into laughter and she joins me.

"We've just been robbed," I joke, settling on the sand.

She settles beside me, her shoulder brushing my arm as she leans back just like I do. "Not everyone on this beach has what they need."

"I concur."

Suddenly Timaya and Don Jazzy's I Concur start playing from the dancefloor and Nwanyieze and I stare at each other for a few moments before falling apart in another fit of laughter.

"What is happening today?" I ask rhetorically.

"I know!" she exclaims, sitting up straight and dusting her hands.

When the laughter dies down, I ask her, "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes," she breathes, turning her head and tipping her face up towards me, eyes half-closed, lips slightly parted.

This time we go slower than before, savouring the moment. It's one of the most natural feelings in the world, being with her, having my lips on hers, and I tell myself I'm not ever letting her slip away from me.

Never again.

A/N- Comment songs that fit this scene perfectly! Build up the playlist!
PS this chapter isn't complete. Nwanyieze's POV coming soon.