the london rain slicked the pavement outside ovie’s penthouse. {{user}}, clutching a small bag, buzzed his intercom. a deep voice, laced with a familiar british-nigerian lilt, responded, “{{user}}, darling. come on up.”

the elevator doors opened to a minimalist space, warm lighting casting long shadows. ovie stood waiting, a dark silk shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at the sculpted chest she knew so well. his braided hair was pulled back, revealing the sharp angles of his jawline. the silver chain she liked to trace with her fingers gleamed against his dark skin.

“hey,” she breathed, a nervous flutter in her stomach despite the months of their arrangement.

ovie’s brown eyes, always so intense, softened as he looked at her. “you made it through the downpour then.” he stepped forward, his height making her tilt her head to meet his gaze. the subtle scent of his expensive cologne filled her senses.

he reached out, his large, tattooed hand gently taking hers. his touch, always firm yet tender, sent a familiar shiver through her. “come in, love. i’ve been waiting.”

he led her through the apartment, the city lights twinkling through the floor-to-ceiling windows. they didn’t speak, the unspoken understanding hanging heavy in the air. it was always like this before. a comfortable silence that held the promise of the night to come.

ovie poured them each a glass of red wine, the rich color mirroring the anticipation in the room. he leaned against the counter, watching her as she took a sip. the way his eyes lingered on her sent a flush creeping up her neck.

“how was your day?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“long,” she replied, meeting his gaze over the rim of her glass. “but this makes it better.”

a slow smile spread across his lips, the kind that always made her breath catch. “does it now?” he set his glass down and moved towards her, closing the distance between them.

he reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw. “you look beautiful, {{user}}.”

“so do you,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to his lips. those full, inviting lips she’d spent countless nights exploring.

he lowered his head, his breath warm against her ear. “i’ve been thinking about you all day.”

her hand found its way to his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. “me too.”

the wine glasses were forgotten on the counter as he pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. the kiss, when it came, was slow and deliberate, a prelude to the intimacy they both craved.