Omerta(6)

"Holy shit! HE REPLIED ME! Nana! Nana!" 

Kiteh was screaming like a banshee  "who"? I shouted back 

"You know who" she said coyly, skipping into the kitchen while I struggled to figure out what the whole fracas was even about. 

"Kiteh please spill or allow me fry this fish in peace I have no time to mess around this is hot oil" 

my best friend was as promiscuous as they came. Although she didn't neccesarily sleep around, she wasn't big on commitment either. So I could bet my last dollar that it was probably some hunk she'd been stalking on instagram. "Well, today the gods smiled on me , becauseeeeeee"

Kite started dramatically as usual, smacking her tongue against the roof of her mouth at intervals her usual habit when she was about to give hot gist so I knew this was going to be good. 

"Well you know that hot rapper that I've been telling you about that never gives me attention or even likes my photos back on instagram, well, he just sent me a message! Omg"! She squealed excitedly delivering the whole gist in one breath.

I rolled my eyes "okay what did he say that's making you so giddy"?

"Well, he said 'hi' and even added a love struck smiley" she said looking at the screen of her phone dreamily. 

My hiss was so loud it startled her out of her euphoria "so its because of common 'hi' that you're acting like you won a lottery?! Please baby take your Randy self out of my kitchen let me finish" 

She rolled her eyes at me. Walking out of the kitchen she murmured "hater" 

"I heard that"! I screamed back at her chuckling to myself. Kiteh was incorrigible.

Kiteh's POV 

I woke up terribly hungry. I had spliffed the previous night and slept without eating. now I was suffering a case of the munchies from hell. i got out of bed and Walked to my fridge to see what i could devour but lo and behold. There was nothing but liquor in my fridge. Well no worries I had my sous chef on speed dial.

She picked on the fourth ring "wazaaap"! I screamed into the phone. Not even waiting for her reply. Nana abeg food no dey my house and the munchies wan kill me here. Please make small concoction rice for me I go reach your side now now" I could hear her hissing and cussing at the other end of the phone " kiteh look at your clock it's ten minutes after 6am don't you have a conscience? Today is saturday. The only day I have to wake up as late as I'd like. Please my week has been stressful at work stay hungry. Bye bye" she cut the call.

"Baby I will be at your place in ten" I texted her. Nana was going to make me breakfast I was sure. she was too nice to say no. 

I brushed my teeth, washed my face grabbed a bag and stuffed in clean underwear, my kush box alongside my favourite perfume white linen by estée Lauder. I backed out of my drive way and the minute I put the car in drive, I accelerated like 0-100real quick. I made the 20minute drive to nana's place in 15. 

The jollof in front of me tasted heavenly. I sat in nana's bed eyes fixed on my phone screen trying to decide how to reply his message. I didn't  want to come off as desperate or a groupie but I also didn't want to appear aloof and stuck up either. After a while of going back and forth I settled with "who texts a stranger by 3am"

I figured I'd wait a whole day or maybe a week before I got a reply knowing these celebs. But to my amazement, he replied immediately 

"I have a private show at intercontinental hotel tonight. If you can make it, I'll answer your question in person"

My eyes almost fell out of my head. This had to be a dream. Most guys liked the chase, the texts leading up to the crescendo; sex. But not him. This was the most straight to the point attitude I had ever come across in any man. I knew he knew what I wanted. And I hoped to heaven he was half as good as the rumours I had heard. 

I replied "Drop a number I can reach you on" 

I waited and waited for a reply,  but it never came. At least not until  6pm when I had given up hope. I got his message "when you get to the hotel just tell the front desk person 'Omerta'. See you tonight"

8:00pm and I was still stuck in the highly unpredictable Lagos traffic. Although I was sure it was all the million wedding guests commuting that caused the heavy gridlock. I looked at my face in the mirror for the umpteenth time regretting why I decided not to 'fleek' my brows and went with tinted moisturizer instead of my award winning highlight and contour. Well, I got the message late and not knowing what kind of event it was exactly, I decided to go with a black, backless form fitting  herve ledger dress that stopped just above my knees then paired it up with black six inch pumps no jewellery on my neck just crystal studs and a wrist watch. I put on heavy mascara plus my perfectly winged eyeliner no lipstick just lip balm, a little blush and white linen on my pressure spots. I figured I looked elegant enough for whatever type of crowd that made up a 'private show' 

I pulled up at the front door. Stepped out of my car and handed the valet keys to the valet and put my car keys in my purse. I walked into the hotel feeling a little nervous.

The extremely cold air in the lobby took me by surprise giving me goose flesh I just hoped my nipples weren't obvious through my dress. I should have worn nipple covers knowing I couldn't wear a bra with a backless dress. But that was the only 'private show' worthy dress kiteh had in her wardrobe. the rest were extremely short and I had no intention of looking like a call girl.

"Good evening madam, how may I serve you"? The receptionist said in a chirpy voice, her smile tight like she had been smiling all day "Omerta" I replied feeling awkward. She typed something into her key board and handed me an electronic card "38th floor" 

I was getting out of the elevator when I realised I hadn't been given a description to where on the thirty eight floor was the 'omerta' show taking place.

I looked around and realised there was only one door at the end of the passage. I walked to the door, stood for a few seconds to settle my breathing, compose myself, shoulders back, head high, game face on, I placed the electronic card I was given on the reader and the door clicked open. I pushed it open and found myself inside a small quiet dimly lit room which looked to me like a waiting area. Two single seater couches a centre table and a mini fridge which was beside another door. I couldn't hear any sounds, it was deathly quiet. I wondered what sort of event this was. I wanted to knock but then who knocks at an event? 

I tried the door, it opened and I pushed it open all the way.

I came face to face with the most beautiful room I had ever seen. It had a 180° floor to ceiling window and a breath taking view of Lagos far below, lights twinkling in the night. But even more beautiful than the view, was the man at the other end of the room standing with his back to me pouring himself a drink from the mini bar. His broad shoulders, the muscles in his back flexing while he moved. he had a white towel around his waist. And when he turned, pictures didn't do him justice, his dark brooding eyes, his pink lips, my imagination was already running wild. Then my eyes trailed down his chiseled torso to the glorious tent in his towel. Lord! If that was his hard on, then I hoped his dick wasn't fat too because it was already obviously looooong. I licked my lips unconsciously already feeling a storm brewing between my thighs. He walked up to me and handed me a flute of white wine "I'm Damon. kiteh right? Seeing him up close, him in my space, breathing the same air, was too much for me. I tried to say something in reply but my mouth wouldn't obey me. so I just took the glass of wine from him and nodded my head instead  

it was going to be my first of many glasses of wine that night,

But little did I know I was in for a long long weekend.