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20. Zayne
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His Kind Of Woman 21. Myla
A whole week had passed since what happened with Zayne. I've been thinking about it nonstop, how he clutched onto me and cried his heart out, and how he shook in my arms that all I wanted was to protect him from whatever was making him feel that way. But he's been so distant I'm starting to worry about him. I did think that he was an asshole, and whenever he opened his mouth, he proved it right. But him not speaking to me - unless necessary - for a whole week is making me frustrated. The rides are so silent and awkward that Keith ends up asking what's wrong between the two of us. "I had a stressful day." His answer is always the same but it doesn't make me feel at ease. Keith is not the one driving today since he had something urgent to take care of, so I'm stuck with Zayne who seems to not want me here in the first place. But it's also my chance to talk to Zayne about whatever's going on. So, when he stops in front of my house, I decide to take a deep breath and break the silence
His Kind Of Woman 22. Zayne
My heart races as I look into her eyes and sit on my bed, letting her in between my legs. Having Myla get on her knees to suck me off is a sight for sore eyes. The way she looks up at me makes me feel like I'm the king of this whole world. I spread my legs, offering myself to her as her hands trail down my thighs, pulling down my pants to expose my cock straining against my Calvin Klein boxers. Her fingers play with the hem of the waistband as she smiles a little at me. "You're so eager." She purrs, sugary sweet. My heart races even faster at the sound of her voice, my arousal growing with each passing second. And I nod unable to form coherent words as I watch her hold my boxers, pulling them down slowly to reveal my throbbing cock. She runs her fingers up and down my shaft, teasing me with her touch as she gazes up at me with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Myla, for fuck's sake-" When she leans in and takes me into her mouth, I gasp, the sensation of her warm lips and wet tongue sendi
His Kind Of Woman 23. Myla
Oh boy, where do I start with Roger "Moneybags" Johnson? I mean, his name might as well be "Numbers" because that's all he ever talks about. I swear, if I hear one more financial acronym or jargon, my head might explode. You know those Wall Street types you see in movies? The ones with slicked-back hair, expensive suits, and a constant look of superiority on their faces? That's Roger, except he's taken it up a notch with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses that look like they could pay my salary for a year. The guy dresses like he's going to a black-tie event every day, and I'm pretty sure he owns more suits than I own shoes. And don't even get me started on his office. It's like walking into a math museum, with graphs and charts covering every inch of wall space. "Good morning, everyone. Thank you for being here today." I'm sitting next to Zayne whose eyes are glued on his phone. "We have a lot to cover, so let's get started. First, I'd like to update you on our financial performance. O
His Kind Of Woman 24. Myla
He's a fucking asshole. I keep telling myself this all the way back home. Why is he so freaking annoying? One minute he says he wants only me then the next pushing me away like I'm nothing to him. When I step inside my house, I slam the door shut and let out a heavy sigh. "That crazy asshole," I mutter, tossing my shoes somewhere before I walk into the living room, only to freeze in my spot. Why is he here...? "Oh, Myla," Daniel stands up from the couch, his eyes wide open. "Hey." What the hell is happening? I look around for Mom but she's nowhere to be seen, but when I hear the bathroom door open, I look around, my heart dropping at the sight. She's wrapped in a towel and her eyes are wide open, guilt clear on her face. "Myla..." She starts, doing anything but looking me in the eye. "Why are you home early?" "What's happening?" I'm about to lose it for real. Daniel and Mom? This is ridiculous. "Actually, don't tell me. I just... I'll leave." "Wait, Myla, I'll-" I can hear her
His Kind Of Woman 25. Zayne
I never found work boring. In fact, It has always been the only thing I could do to take my mind off things. That, or fucking someone. It's a way to release all the pent-up tension and stress that I tend to be carrying around. They're the two things that keep me sane, yet since that one day I met Myla, nothing does its job anymore. It's been two hours since she stormed out of the office, leaving me like a lost puppy. I can't focus on work, and the thought of sex with anyone else seems unappealing. I hate the way she makes me feel so weak and vulnerable like my life depends on her. It's a feeling that I'm not used to, and it's unsettling. I've always been in control of my emotions and my life, but with Myla, I feel like I'm at her mercy. Part of me wants to push her away, to distance myself from this overwhelming attraction. But another part of me wants her so bad it fucking annoys me. I've always been a player, but now this feels like a dangerous game and I'm not sure if I'm ready
His Kind Of Woman 26. Zayne
I stand in front of Helbert's grave with my head down low and my heart sinking to the ground. The weight of my grief feels heavy, almost suffocating, but I don't cry. No tear falls down my eyes but it's all eating me inside. The guilt, the pain, the weight of losing him... everything is reminding me that the tomorrow I thought I'd have never came and will never do. The memories of our time together come flooding back. The laughter, the joy, and everything we shared seems like distant echoes in a place where happiness cannot penetrate. I find myself asking why him, why now, why me? But there are no answers to these questions, no solace in the silence of the graveyard. And the emptiness in my chest feels like a gaping hole that can never be filled. Myla and Keith stand beside me, her head on his chest as she cries. I want to tell her that it's not her fault because I know she feels as guilty as I do, but my mind is consumed by memories of Helbert, memories of a life that once was, an
His Kind Of Woman 27. Myla
I've never thought Zayne would ever do something like this. I stare at him with wide eyes as he holds eye contact, his gaze piercing holes through me. No, this isn't happening. I don't pay attention to the meeting. Zayne does most of the talking and I just sit there, people stealing glances at me while I try to pull myself out of my thoughts. I can't believe him. I can't believe anything that's happening around me. Everything is fucked up. "Myla." When the meeting is done and everyone is gone, he approaches me, his steps hesitant yet his tone determined. "I can explain-" "What will you even explain? The way we became married all of a sudden? Or the way I'll have to pretend to be your wife from now on?" I stand up, my fists tight. "Just tell me, Zayne, am I a fucking joke to you?" I watch while he runs his fingers through his hair and sighs heavily. I should be annoyed. I should be mad. I should be frustrated. Yet all I am is hurt. "I had to. You're the only one who- you're the on
His Kind Of Woman 28. Zayne
"Sorry, I took a while." Myla's mother walks to me with a cup of tea in her hand. "I thought this would make you relax." I see my mother in her. She's got her eyes, that soft motherly look that makes me want to just hug her and close my eyes. "Thank you. I appreciate it." I take the cup from her, the warm steam and comforting aroma immediately making me feel more at ease. We're sitting in the living room while Myla packs her things. We figured she should stay at my place for some time while we complete the marriage process. "Myla talked to me about your marriage." She says and I look at her, noticing the ghost of a smile that crosses her face. "I always dreamt about when she gets married, but the moment it happens, it's a fake one." Fuck. Guilt rushes through me as she looks a time with sad eyes. I feel torn. I know that this marriage is based on ulterior motives, and the guilt of using her for my own gain weighs heavily on me. But I genuinely care for her and want to make her happ
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