Shadows Don't Lie - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

He followed her out of the ongoing merriment. She had been at this venue more than a couple of times so she knew the environment quite well. When they were outside, their hands instinctively found each other's again. There was no danger in sight but they felt they needed each other in the dark. Neither talked nor hesitated. She chose a path that led to the meadow.

The strong breeze of the night blew back her hair, revealing her small head from Kwame's viewpoint. They were walking against the direction of the breeze. On top of that the stellar decor of the sky had provided a beautiful scenery of the whole place. They walked in bright darkness. The moon's vigil was well noticed.

The field had an evenly undulating landscape, so that for every fifty meters they either were on a small uphill or a shallow valley. As they climbed one of these, her sixth sense told her that he was staring.

She checked and she was correct.

The glint in his eyes was the evidence. They were fixated on her. Lightheaded, she laughed gently and almost set off to a run. Kwame licked his lips and began.

'I never knew you could be like this,' he confessed. She turned playfully at him but did not utter a word. Ana had always known that truth was in alcohol she only lifted her brows as a sign that she had heard him.

Kwame hated the fact that the vodka was setting in, but it was already in his system, he could do nothing about it.

'Come to think of it.' She turned to listen. He stretched the other hand and she took it with delight. They both squeezed lightly. She pursed her lips as he did the talking. Ana was now walking with her back but was facing him. 'What if you had fallen today?' He smiled brightly. Ana threw her stare away from him, contemplating the possible consequences if she had landed on the ground. All were not too good. She had glimpses of smiles all over her face as she thanked her stars for bringing him along.

'Thanks once again for your skilful catch, I am glad you came.' That was how slow and tactful she could come to saying that they should change the topic of discussion to a more romantic one. She dropped her stare briefly and flew it back to his face. However, she could not hold the stare for long, she had to drop it.

Oh boy you are damn handsome.

She sighed under the power of his God-given looks. At the same time Kwame also thought of his own version of her beauty. She was a to die to be with.

Kwame had a long face with plenty of hair that had been well shaved to a fine moustache around his mouth. His hair was well cut for the occasion and was replete with waves. It glimmered occasionally under the influence of the moon. His Adam's apple was constantly at work. It rocked to every utterance that he voiced out. Kwame had a heavy baritone voice that always caused vibrations in certain sacred places of Ana's being. The voice commanded immediate effects on her effortlessly. Additionally, every time he talked for a long-time she appeared as if listening attentively, but the truth was that she was lost, lost in and around his lips. His ash suit also made him appear angelic in the night. Ana at some moments felt overly secure in his heavenly presence.

'Can you do me a favour?' Ana wanted to read the request on his face but he was unreadable at this moment. The vodka had altered his visage lightly.

'Sure.' She nodded in addition and bridged the gap between them to half. Her eyebrows knitted in anticipation.

'Would it be possible for me to catch you again?' he spoke flatly.

'Catch me again, how?' she was confused. Ana thought Kwame had now found his dancing shoes. Her eyes were the widest he had ever seen them become. The urge to kiss them and tell her she had pretty eyes was all over. The appetite was literally screaming at him to dap his lips on those set of blinkers. Her lips were still rounded and parted after the 'how?'

Kwame left her hands and squinted a little. Blood from nowhere rushed to Ana's lips. Her tiny lips suddenly felt heavy and swollen.

Is he going to catch my lips with his?

She swallowed and threw a leer over his shoulders. She wanted to take off into the skies but gravity did a good job on her. Kwame's hand moved around her hips as if to touch her and survey her curves upwards but he did not.

Rather, he prickled with his middle finger at the side of her waist.

This caused Ana to snake to one side of her body, so that her other side joined shape with her already outstanding hip. She still could not catch what he meant by catch you again. Then another prickle came at her other side. She twisted herself and then started moving back. Kwame closed each gap with a step of his own. His steps were that of an assassin's who had his target to himself in a room. Ana now understood what he meant by 'catch you again.' They both broke into smiles. Ana's mushroomed into laughter. He stretched and prickled her again. This time she twisted herself so that his impact was minimized. He did not know he was injecting long-lasting excitements into her already disturbed system.

'Kwame please,' she pleaded amid uncontrollable laughter.

'That's your gift for the vodka,' he disclosed. 'Now who's going to save you?' he threw his arms wide to indicate that they were the only people out there on the meadow. The music from the dinner could be heard from a distant. She pleaded again with her hands clasped in front of her but Kwame was in the mood. He would not listen.

'Talk to the hand!' he waved at her jovially.

'Oh! my G... What have I landed myself into?' she threw the question out loud when she realized that he would not stop.

He tickled her until she had no option but to take to her heels. She held her dress around her thighs and turned around. Running, she was laughing so much that she could barely move her legs. She was such a beauty to watch. She ticked all his boxes of a goddess. Ana had the wisdom of women. She felt as free as a bird. Kwame delighted in running after her in the dark. Each time he caught her, her pleas were like honey. Most of the time he would jovially ask to tickle her one more time before he stopped. Ana would begin running before he could execute his last attempt. During those times he would hold her at the waist, as it appeared to shrink and expand in her lungfuls. In spite of his lovely worries, she loved the fumes that came with his utterances when she was that close to his lips. His intoxication had made his eyes look dull and sleepy, but he was a package of energy not willing to sleep anytime soon. The night appeared to have a lot of prospects.

At last, when he also was tired, they stood at one spot in each other's arms. She leant against his trunk of a torso. Her lungs needed to work some overtimes to replenish the lost oxygen. She was extremely slaphappy that if he should ask her the colour of her panty, she would not hesitate to shout. 'LACY WHITE!'

Their bodies bobbed against each other in the cold night. Though cold, she felt nothing close to it. By his side, nothing came close to his presence. Cold felt like quilt warmth in the harmattan season.

After some minutes, Kwame bowed and scooped her off her feet.

Her surprise brought a 'wow' to her lips. She looked up at him only to meet his firm gaze locked on her. In safe arms, she decided not to talk but just relax and let him do whatever he wanted. He was taking her to the hilltop nearby. He ascended with no difficulty at all, making Ana wonder if he held something that had weight in his arms. Ana felt something most people will describe as falling in love. When he had reached, he sat himself on the ground so that he faced downhill. He deposited Ana onto his lap with grace.

For the first time, she felt the large expanse of his thighs with her womanly backseat.

His lap was fully occupied. He dragged her in so that she had a firm grip of his lap with her cushion. As humble as a cat, she submitted herself to anyway he preferred her to sit. The tip of her hip now invaded a bigger part of his groin. Her arm stood in between the side of her trunk and his concrete abs. In suit and tie, she could still feel the waves of his packs. Placing her head on his shoulders, she fondled herself against him like a cat trying to draw the attention of its owner. His collar bone pillowed her cheek. This made one side of her lip have great difficulty sealing. They stayed open under the fragrance of his aftershave. It was here that Vodka did some talking.

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