Dayo had wanted a serious relationship with Femi, she had thought she would be the one to save him, fix him, but she was wrong. Femi did not want to be saved, nor fixed. And he did not want to have sex with her more than once either. She was bitter and she could not hide it.
The second they were out of view, he pushed her against the wall and ravished her lips, his right hand pushed her top down and dug into her bra, cupping the breast, rubbing the tip with his thumb.
“Bro, I’m telling you, someone’s always swiping my clothes,” Malik said as he walked his friend Dede out of the apartment. “Just yesterday, I hung my boxers to dry, barely turned around, and poof, they were gone.”
She clung to him, desperate for her warmth and tears to anchor him back to life. His body, cold and lifeless, lay against hers, and she couldn't bear the thought of him slipping away
Ade’s voice resonated through the church, a gentle harmony that filled the air with peace. But then he saw her. She slipped into the back pew, and for a moment, everything else faded away.
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