Chapter 30

* * * * * *

Well, she discovered that he had tricked her when they arrived at the cinema. He had bought a huge bowl of popcorn, having noticed that she liked the snack. He had presented their tickets to the confirmer and then guided her into the viewing hall. He had not chosen a horror movie. He had chosen a Nigerian movie, an interesting one at that. Its name was Sugar Rush.  The movie was ongoing when they arrived. They had missed about thirty minutes of screen play. Their seats were forty seven and forty eight respectively. They took their seats watched the movie with Chinwem relishing it and Clement watching her all through the screen play. All in all, they enjoyed the one hour forty minutes of the movie. They left the cinema at three minutes after four o'clock.

'Where are we having dinner?' she asked curious of the yacht. He didn't answer her. 'Clement,' she said again. 'Where exactly are we going to have dinner?' she asked, louder.

'When we get there, you shall see,' was all he told her as he navigated the roads to his target terminus. They arrived at the destination he had in mind after about forty minutes of slightly mad driving. She marveled when they reached, wondering what the hell they were actually doing there. It was the Imo International Airport. She wondered where on earth this dinner on a yacht was going to hold.

'This is wonderful,' she said under her breath. He chuckled, hearing her.

'Here we are,' he told her with an accomplished smile as he switched off the ignition.

'Where are we actually going Clement?' she asked him once again. 'This as I can see is an airport and not a sea port,' she stated. 'I don't believe yachts are stationed here, at the airport, are they?' he shook his head, leaning in to undo her seatbelt. He freed her from the restrain before his eyes met hers.

'Chloe, we are going to Port Harcourt,' he finally told her. 'I believe that there is lot of seaports there. Though, I have booked a yacht already,' he informed her nonchalantly.

'Clement,' she said, speechless for the moment, unable to string words together. He was taking her to another state for a date? Who actually does that? Clement, her mind answered the question for her. He was being extravagant. This was obviously too much, flamboyant. What on earth was he trying to prove to her? Then, suddenly, a thought came upon her. She hadn't thought of it before. What if he wanted to propose to her? Yes, that would explain the dress he had given her, the expensive accessories and jewelries, the elaborate date with all the fuss and drama, the dinner on a yacht, just everything.

'Anyways, let's go or we'll be late for our flight Mon amour,' he stated getting out of the automobile. He took her suitcase out of the backseat then went to get his in the boot. He turned around and opened her door for her, beholding a still flummoxed lady. He grinned, very much amused. 'Oh come on now Chloe,' he urged her. She came out and he locked the vehicle securely. He pocketed the keys.

They were aboard their flight in a matter of minutes. The flight didn't last long with Chinwem saying nothing to him, still confused. Well, she was not confused enough to reject a glass of Chapman and a takeaway plate of samosa and spring rolls. She downed hers and also ate his. She was gluttonous for someone who had eaten the size she did for lunch. He had no idea that it was nervousness playing its part in her.

They arrived at Port Harcourt in about an hour time, just about twenty minutes to six. There was a vehicle waiting for them, one with a designated driver who took them straight to their destination. They arrived at the hotel he had chosen sometime later. He led her to the suite he had booked for both of them. It was a large suite with a huge bedroom, a kitchenette and dining inclusive. It was like an apartment, not to mention it was far bigger than hers and hers was sizeable and had two bedrooms instead of one. He picked his clothes and addressed her.

'You can get changed in the bedroom. There is a bathroom in there. I'll use the one out here,' he told her. She nodded, satisfied with the arrangement. She hurried into the bedroom and took a quick shower. She got her makeup box out of her suitcase and did her makeup, doing her utmost best to cover up all that she should. Her makeup was flawless when she was done. She combed her hair and styled it in an all hair up hairdo that exposed her neck and collarbones. She had done well with her makeup; nothing was visible except the soft outline of her long collarbone scar. But, it was not quite noticeable. She proceeded then to open the jewelry box.

She stared at its glittering contents for a moment before she decided on which and which to wear for the night. She put on the jewelry that she loved the most first. It was the waist beads, three lines of gold. She put on the earring and the choker necklace next to avert any prying gaze, whether appreciative or not, away from her exposed skin to the beautiful glittering jewels. She wore the leg chain next, on her right ankle. She chose to do without the rest of the jewelries and slipped into her sparkling dress. She tied the knots tightly to prevent any mishap for she was wearing nothing underneath on her upper body. She was wearing very good lingerie in the lower part, black, enticing. She wondered if he would get there; get as far as seeing it, the lingerie.

'Are you ready mi querida?' his voice called from the other side of the closed door after a knock, just as she finished slipping on her shoes. She stood up and picked her purse. She threw her phone into it with her two Atm cards, her credit card and some cash. She added a tampon and vagina wipes. A black pen followed a blank folded piece of paper into the bag.

'Yes I am,' she finally answered after doing all this. She opened the door and saw him, and then she hung alongside him. He looked dropped dead gorgeous in a dark blue tuxedo that signified wealth and achievement. They looked as if they were tailored on his body, just for him. They emphasized his hard broad chest, his slim waist, his powerful thigh, his impressive height. Oh God, she hoped and prayed that she was not presently drooling, or was she?

On his part, he ignited the moment he set eyes on her like hay which had been dunked in one of the fractions of crude oil. Desire ran through him, swift and unbridled, causing his passion to to-go in frenzy. He went heady and disoriented from the entire surge his testosterone level was causing. She was beautiful, attractive in a morassing kind of way that drew, ensnared. The dress was a perfect fit, a weapon which she wielded, hugging her in all the right and proper places. The king sized bed behind her called to him, urging him to set her over it and love all of her, passionately, wantonly. It bid him take her, cherish her, love her all he wanted. But, he turned away from it all, the bed, her, unwilling to succumb to such heavy emotions. That was not the reason they were there.

'Shall we?' he asked her the moment he turned back to her, after a long moment of trying to regain his composure. She nodded at him. She walked up to him, her hips becoming curvier, fuller with each stride, making him all hot and bothered. He took her hand in his and then both felt that fire, devouring, all consuming.

'Clement,' she all but moaned his name, staring deep into his eyes, into his soul with that viridescent gaze. The dam broke and the emotions it was caging sprang free, like a flood. It was then that he completely lost it, taking her into his arms and kissing her like never before, hungry, wanton, insatiable. She melted into him, returning his kisses with the same primal intensity.

The kiss could not be described with the word gentle. It was nothing like the kisses that he usually gave her. This kiss was more like enough is enough. His mouth overrode hers, devouring all of her, plundering like an angry warrior, ruthlessly, without any iota of mercy, inclement. She loved this intensity, purred for more of the head spinning assault, her moans spurring him on. He tasted the whole of her mouth, their tongues tangling and untangling swiftly in her mouth, leaving her giddy, punch drunk. She drew him closer, closer still pressing her breast to his chest in the process. Her nipples hardened into thick beads while he groaned at the contact. His hands travelled her body, especially over the derriere he had once admitted to liking. Over and over again did he caress her full buttocks, pressing her against him, against his arousal? Yes, she felt it, the whole thick hard long length of him and the whisper of erratic pleasure that it promised, of delights and passion, dangerous.

'Clement,' she moaned, 'I want you.' Those words jarred him back to the reality at hand. He backed away from her then, releasing her completely. They stared at one another, passion disheveled. He inhaled and exhaled to calm down, trying to rest his eyes on somewhere other than her very inviting breast, jutting out sinfully.

'Dinner awaits us ma Cherie, we can't let it get cold,' he said with a promise in his desire dark eyes that said that after that, he might devour her as thoroughly as she wanted him to. She nodded in sexual understanding as he helped her to smoothen and straighten out her dress. He did same to his tuxedo. 'Let us go,' he said. They walked out of the suite quickly, afraid of continuing what was left hanging on a rope, not nearly half steady, and dangerously unstable, inclement and uncertain, more set to spring than vigilant, precariously perched at the very brink.