When A Playboy Loves

|| 14.

Utianle

"No." A gown flew to the ground. "Uh huh," another one joined its counterpart.

"Never!" I murmured under my breath, holding a red gown up that seemed to glow when light from the single overhead bulb shone on it.

The colour made me cringe especially with the studs that decorated every inch of it, simply put, the dress was hideous. It was one of those clothes that looked good at the store until you brought it back home. Soon enough, it joined the heap of clothes that were already piled at my feet, making my room look smaller than it usually was.

Halting my movements, I stood still in front of the opened wardrobe that was now upside down. With my hands akimbo, I shook my head at the colourful mess I made. 

Most of my clothes were off the hanger, the few that survived my assault could be counted on my left hand. The problem wasn't the clothes, it was finding the perfect one suited for the occasion I was about to attend and it was starting to feel like Gulder Ultimate Search.

"Babe, it's five already." Umoh snaked an arm around my waist from behind, causing the large T-shirt I was wearing to ride up slightly. He tucked his head into the crook of my neck, swaying both of us gently from side to side.

The guilt that had earlier enveloped me as the scent of his perfume floated into my nostrils disappeared when his fingers massaged my nipples that were poking through my shirt. He was supposed to drop me off and had been waiting for me. Meanwhile, I had forgotten all about him.

"Sorry." Stepping away from him, I pulled the only gown left on the hanger, placing it in front of my body as I twirled for him to have a good look.

"What do you think of this one?" I asked.

His eyes, which were hooded with lust cleared slightly as he cast a glance at the black halter dress but gave no response.

Standing upright, the gown looked conservative until I put a leg out to reveal the slit that was high up to my upper thighs. When I swirled, glimpses of my skin could be seen, all thanks to the back of the outfit that was held together by a bunch of strings that were intricately woven together.

It was my most risqué outfit, more daring than my usual choice but it was everything I wanted to look like tonight - sexy, confident and comfortable.

"Well?"

Umoh's eyes briefly scanned over the outfit as if just seeing it for the first time and he muttered a flat, "it's not bad."

Disappointment embraced me, my excitement waning as quickly as it had come. I wanted more, a long tirade about how the flecks of silver that were scattered all over the dress matched so well with the colour of my eyes.

Sighing in defeat, I pursued my lips, just staring at the clueless male specimen before me. Men would never understand the struggle behind a woman's flawless appearance.

He strutted closer to me, tilting my chin with his index finger. "Baby girl, you look good," he said with his thick Calabar accent.

I would have smiled if I suddenly didn't have that strange feeling knocking at my gut; he wanted something.

An eyebrow raised in enquiry when his hands circled my waist again. "What of the money?"

"What money?" My left eye twitched. I avoided his gaze, focusing my attention on the short tribal lines on the side of his temple.

Umoh was a very handsome man with his scalp bare of any hair, and a jaw filled with thick, dark beards that I was fond of running my fingers through. His eyebrows were thick and looked like they were carved but it was all natural; his heart-shaped lips were my favourite part of his face.