Kiru Taye

On a more positive note, I have book news.

If Oumou was a car, she would be an attention-grabbing yellow Lamborghini.

Not that she’d ever looked at him that way. She barely acknowledged his existence.

He licked his lips as the urge to taste hers grew inside him, to have her soft flesh writhing against him.

The blissful sound turned Yahya’s stomach into warm goo like it sometimes did.