Page 22 of Craving a King

He nods. “Well, I do prefer to be alone at Bonbiri. That’s why I built it. So, if you’re asking me do I have dinner parties or family Christmas here, the answer is no. However, I do allow special women from Atlanta who light my body and soul on fire to take up residence as long as they like.”

I blush, not knowing why I’m so embarrassed by his obvious infatuation with me. “I see. So what you’re saying is…I’m all the dinner party you need?”

He leans over and kisses my lips with enough heat to set us both on fire. When he pulls himself away, he answers, “What I’m saying is, if we don’t go and eat dinner soon, you will become the entire meal and not just dessert.”

I caress his jaw with my right hand and trace his lips with my left. “Well, in that case, we better get you fed, then. You’ll need your energy up for what I have planned. Will Akua serve us in the kitchen?”

He stands up and motions for me to take his hand and join him. “No, I’ve given her and most of the servants the night off. She cooked dinner and left it in the warmer for us. I can make us a salad and get our food plated. Why don’t you go wash up and I’ll meet you in the bedroom with our meal?”

I am relieved Akua retired for the night. Our daily morning meetings are tense, to say the least. Right now, all I want to do is shower, eat, and talk about the wonderful services Revolution Academies is prepared to bring to Kumasi. “OK. I will grab a quick shower and meet you upstairs on my balcony in 15 minutes. Does that work?”

He shrugs. “Or the bed. You know, I’m open.”

I playfully hit his arm and scold, “Kofi, behave. Business, then pleasure!”

He kisses my forehead. “Perfect.” I turn to go, and he watches at my ass as I climb the stairs. Knowing he’s looking makes me put an extra swing in my hips as I slowly ascend. I hear him chuckle as he walks away into the kitchen.

Once upstairs, I decide to take a quick shower and change into something comfortable for dinner. The hot water feels good against my skin. The shower has a rain shower head and jets that hit your body all over. After such a long day walking in the heat, the water feels like a massage. Stepping out of the shower, I take off my shower cap to shake my curls out before I grab my silk robe and drape it over my damp body while I venture toward the closet to find something for dinner.

I must have stayed in the shower longer than I thought, because when I step out of the bathroom, Kofi is setting our food on the balcony. His eyes catch mine before I can escape into the closet. His eyes start at mine and then slowly work their way down my open robe. The heat radiates from my hardened nipples to the warm core between my legs. I can’t tell if I am still damp from the shower or if Kofi’s stare is responsible for the moisture pooling between my thighs.

Now he is coming inside the patio doors and moving toward me. Once he reaches me, he places a kiss on my forehead and lingers there for a second as his hands rub up and down my arms. He takes a small step back to take my body in again before he grabs the silk belt of my robe and ties it in a beautiful tight knot, covering my exposed body. His eyes never leave mine as he works the knot.

“Wear this to dinner. The berry silk looks amazing on you. Find a pair of heels that will compliment it and meet me outside,” he commands.

I’m taken aback; I didn’t expect that request. “But Kofi, we will be outside. Everyone will see me eating dinner in this robe.”

He laughs. “Do you trust me, Ella?” I chew on my bottom lip but nod without any more hesitation. His voice drops an octave. “The servants are gone for the evening and each balcony has a tree canopy to ensure privacy.”

I look out the door and realize he is right. No one can see past the beautiful trees obscuring my balcony. Plus, there is smoked glass to separate each bedroom’s deck space. It feels like he planned for an evening like this when he designed the home. I’m pulled out of my thoughts when he leans in closer and says, “I hate having to ask you twice, so go on, find those heels.”

“O-OK,” I stammer. He kisses the back of my knuckles and walks back outside; I catch him untucking his shirt as he walks away. I can’t believe how quickly I acquiesce to him. If any other man told me he didn’t want to ask me things twice, I would balk. But Kofi makes me want to ensure he never has to ask me anything more than once ever again. I am more than happy to be at his service.

I grab a pair of strappy silver heels and head outside. He looks pleased with my choice and pulls out my chair. He set a beautiful table for dinner. There are candles and African violets. He pours me a glass of South African wine and takes a seat across from me as he starts to serve our food. I neglect my wine while I stare at his every move. He’s serving dinner effortlessly. There is something extremely sexy about seeing this powerful man serve me.

“This is nice, Kofi. Thank you for preparing dinner and this table. You never cease to amaze me. What other skills are you hiding from me?”

He pauses from tossing our salad and gives me an electric look. “My talents are endless. I plan to acquaint you with more of them later tonight.” He searches my reaction as he continues to toss the salad. I quickly grab my glass of wine to hide the heat I’m sure is flushing my face.

“I’d like that,” is all I manage to get out.

“Good. But we need to eat. Plus, I promised you I’d talk business with you before we play.” Kofi passes a bowl of stewed chicken and rice to me followed by some plantain and bread. I eat all of my food and a bit of his. It’s delicious.

Kofi smirks. “I love a woman who’s not afraid to eat.”

“OH, well, I’m your lady, then. I didn’t get these hips by eating like a rabbit.”

“Your hips are phenomenal. Please never turn into a rabbit. As a matter of fact, I’m going to worship your hips and all adjacent parts tonight.”

My breath catches on his promise. “I thought we were going to focus on business before play?”

Kofi looks disappointed. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.” I lift my glass, asking for more wine. Kofi pours me a healthy glass.

“Promise not to get mad?”

I put my glass down and clear my throat. After shifting in my seat, I answer him. “No, I will not promise that. The fact you asked that is a sign that I will probably not be pleased with what you have to say. But I promise to hear you out.”

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