Bisi huffed in derisive laughter at the mere idea of wanting Mari gone. “Oh yes. I am incredibly sure about that. Please stay. It’s the least you can do—you took several years off my life just then. I’m not sure anyone has ever mentioned it to you, but stress is bad for the cardiovascular system.”

Mari looked at her tragically. “I’m really sorry. I ruined our night. You make me a little crazy, honestly.” She squeezed her eyes shut in a wince. “Not…like that. As in I become crazy around you, or even on the subject of you—not as in you irritate me… Look, I missed you this week. I’ve been in a whole mood for days. I couldn’t wait to get here…And then I saw that and I felt so stupid.” Her voice cracked a little on the 'stupid.'

Bisi couldn’t have stopped it if she wanted to, but she didn’t want to. She felt her eyes change with unprecedented, almost painful speed. She held out a hand. “Hand over that bag that you’re clinging to like a lifeline, then, Mari, and let me put it away for you, and let’s not talk about you leaving any more. You can trust me, and you're not stupid. You think you have missed me? I’ve done nothing but think about you all week. You show up, looking like this,” she gestured at the soft, clinging paprika-colored sweater dress with the slit running up one thigh that made her want to pull Mari into her lap, and slide her hand inside the fabric to explore. Bisi wanted to pet and play with her mate until Mari was panting and squirming in her arms and crying out her name, not insult her and upset her and make her want to leave. “And then not even five minutes after I finally get you here, you try to leave. You won’t ask me why that boy’s phone number means less than nothing to me, which reminds me that there’s another thing I want you to ask me that you haven’t asked me, Mari. I keep waiting for you to ask me what Temi means.”

Mari lowered the strap of her purse and handed it over to Bisi sheepishly, clearing her throat. “Ah, pero…I don’t ask because I already know. I mean, are you kidding me? I looked it up before I went to bed the first night. The internet said it’s a Yoruba pet name that means ‘mine.’ Took me a minute to figure it out because I wasn’t sure about spelling. Is that not right?”

Bisi considered her soberly, calculating. She’d rather get in trouble for saying too much than for not saying enough. This was not a scene she wanted them to have to enact twice. She did not want Mari upset like this twice. “No, that’s right. I’m not using it as a ‘pet name,’ though, Mari. I’m using it to tell you that you’re mine. You. You’re for me, and I found you.”

Mari looked up at her, her expression unreadable, but her scent shifting, intensifying, amplifying Bisi’s hunger for her. “You’re saying— You think I’m—? We’re—”

“I do.”

Mari took a breath and, adorably, caught a bubble, lips tight, one cheek slightly inflated, eyes slightly wide as she searched Bisi’s face for a moment, running some calculations of her own before the bubble popped and she said in a rush, “Bisi, I do, too. I think. But it’s crazy, right? What are the odds? We're just…infatuated. It has to be that.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t think so, either,” said Mari, shaking her head slowly, looking as mystified by their connection as Bisi felt. “That’s part of why I was so upset. I can’t stop thinking that maybe we… and then you… and… nevermind. What do we do, though? How do we figure out for sure?” said Mari with a plangent note in her voice.

“We don’t ever have to know for sure, but I think we will. I’m convinced already. We can just enjoy the process of figuring it out. For example, tonight we have learned that you are possessive and that I like to be possessed by you, so that’s one way. Tell me you’re staying, Mari.”

“I’m staying.”

“Tell me you’re mine.”

Mari bit her lip but shook her head. “I will soon. Probably really soon. As soon as I’m sure. Wait for me.”

“Hard-headed!” Bisi chided, eyes glowing, feeling excited by the challenge. “But obviously I will wait for you. Forever if needed, I suppose.”

“I mean, it’s only been two weeks. We haven’t even…” Mari’s voice trailed off.

“Haven’t—” Looking at Mari’s blush, Bisi understood. Is it my birthday? “Is that all?” she said. “Give me a moment to go turn the stove off. Wait right here and don’t move. Don’t get me into any more trouble. I’ll be fast, like I said before. I’m fast.”

“No, I didn’t mean we had to right now…you’ve been cooking… We can’t…”

“We really, really can.” Bisi dipped her head, moving Mari’s hair out of the way and kissing her behind her ear, breathing her in. There wasn’t a doubt in Bisi’s mind anymore, but if Mari needed to test their sexual chemistry before she could make a determination, Bisi was more than happy to assist her. Right now. And then, and only because she thought the smoke from a scorched dinner would interrupt them, Bisi pulled away temporarily. “Can we right now? Would you want to?”

Mari bit her lip and smiled, and nodded. “Yeah, definitely.”

A feeling of wild celebration roared through Bisi. “Ten seconds!” She quickly kissed Mari once more, then ran to the stove, turned everything off, and raced back in about four seconds, kissing Mari again almost before her forward momentum had fully ceased, startling a laugh out of her little mate. The sound rippled through Bisi along with Mari’s scent, and it was all goodness. Everything about her felt so right. She broke away to say, “Mari, I want you. Bad. Bad bad.”

“Yeah, me too. Keep kissing me and I'm pretty sure you can have me.”

Nnngh! Bisi’s brow contracted with need, and from the tight fullness between her thighs. “Temi, you don’t know what you’re promising.”

“Only one way for me to find out.”

“Mari, you said you’ve dated females, but have you done this with a female before?” Bisi asked, with a tension in her voice that was part excitement, part nerves. 

“A female Alpha? No, actually. Tell me how I do. After.” Mari took a quick two steps backward before Bisi could catch her, and paused momentarily as if she were gathering her courage. She reached behind her neck and lowered a zipper. Bisi’s mouth went dry. Then, her arms crossing in front of her, Marisol took two fistfuls of the knitted fabric of her dress and pulled it up and over her head in a single swift motion, tossing it heedlessly onto the chair behind her, covering the offending print completely. She shook out the thick, shining black mane of her hair and then paused, uncertain, her hands fluttering and darting like hummingbirds, looking for places to rest somewhere along her sides.

Bisi made an involuntary sound, a sort of sobbed exhalation. In front of her stood a fantasy. A dream in a red lace bodysuit with a red ribbon belt. The belt came together in a prim, flat little bow in the front, delineating Mari’s tidy little waist and making the ample flare of her hips that much more pronounced. Mari’s curves were unreal, a dreamscape. She was a sensual miracle. Everything— everything—was soft and rounded, curving and convex. Her breasts were lifted up in lacy red cups, overflowing them, mounding above them, the rich color of cream mixed with caramelized sugar, like pralines, like dulce de leche, like a hundred delicious things. Her hips and thighs, the skin smooth and glowing in the light streaming in through the windows formed an inverted tear-drop that came to its point at her knees and then flowed down into her curving calves and small ankles. Her miniature bare feet even terminated in round little toes with shining scarlet toenails. 

Mari wrapped one arm around her waist as if she was forty-nine percent shy and fifty-one percent temptress, her heels lifting just slightly. Then, in a move that nudged the needle further towards temptress, Mari pivoted slowly on the balls of her feet so that Bisi could see the red straps and mesh panel that held the garment together behind her, the way it came to a point over the small of her back. From there, only a narrow red strap ran between the impossible curves of her ass. A wave of lightheadedness crashed over Bisi. She weaved slightly in place. Her hand reached out, fingertips landing just above the little point, and she reverently ran them over the curve of one cheek.

“Marisol...” she croaked, at a loss for words and oxygen and thought. There was nothing in the world worth pouring energy into but Mari.  “Mari…Orekelewa…Temi… You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

“You like it?” Mari asked. 

Nodding emphatically, her voice thick, Bisi asked, “Did you wear this for me, Mari?”

“What do you think?” responded Mari in a wry tone, turning back to face Bisi and tucking her shining hair behind her ear. She smiled slightly as she looked down at herself. There were notes of uncertainty in her motions and in her voice. Uncertain about what, Bisi wondered. Uncertain whether Bisi would keel over from the sight of her in her lingerie? Her mate was wise to be concerned, if so.

“I think maybe you did wear it for me. I cannot thank you enough.”

Mari’s shoulders lifted slightly and she smiled a little more confidently. “I think maybe you’re right. I wasn’t sure if… but I was hoping…”

“Mari, stay with me tonight. All night. Don’t go back.”

Mari gave one slow nod. “Ok,” she agreed.

“And tomorrow. Stay tomorrow, too.”

Mari laughed. “We’ll see. Let’s worry about tonight first.”

Bisi continued to soak in the sight of her mate for another few moments, trying to take in all the details. No wonder Mari had been angry. She had prepared a gift like this only to find some trifle from another Omega propped on a chair in the sitting room. Bisi’s heart clenched painfully to think that she had hurt this beauty’s feelings. Her palms ached, and, reverently, she skimmed one very lightly over Marisol’s plump breast, feeling the tip of a stiffened nipple pushing the stretched lace against the pad of Bisi’s thumb. Mari’s eyes closed and her head dropped back, her hair a dark cascade that flowed over and behind her shoulders, with one thick lock streaming  over her right breast, resting fetchingly atop it. Her spice and sugar cane scent filled the air, rich with desire now, and Bisi groaned. “Your scent, Mari. It’s so… Come to me.”