She was at the edge of the lake, naked. Spurred on by my approach, she beckoned me with a finger, a drenched siren luring a hapless sailor to his destruction.
Reaching her, I grabbed her by the hair. “You asked for trouble and now you are going to get it.”
Her response was simple. “Give it to me.”
Her submission to my domination lasted all of a second, and she was on me in a flash. The throb of my body made her weight insignificant in my hands. The contact of her skin and hands excited me further. The sensation was torture.
“Don’t think,” she commanded huskily. “Just give me trouble. I want everything you’ve got.”
Her legs wound around my hips. Her voice played in my head.
“Right now you are just a man coming to get what he needs. I have an itch that only you scratch. Forget you are my counsellor, Doctor Mala.”
I trudged on toward the water.
“No other man exists for me now. Forget any other woman, except this one who needs you. Feed my hunger.”
The water came within inches. One more step. One foot treaded in, then the other.
“Forget Israel, Daniel, Lawrence, Haruna, Ayo, all of them. None of them matters when I have you.”
“You are sure?”
The water rose to my knees. I stopped walking.
“Absolutely,” she replied, still clinging onto me.
“What else?” I wasn’t sure what I meant.
“Don’t hold back,” she begged, writhing harder against me. Her body arched into mine. “Forget Jemima. Feast on me.”
My mind hazed over at what she offered: an all-I-could-eat buffet I couldn’t sneeze at. In spite of the generosity of her offering, the names clanged in my head. I hesitated.
“Please,” she begged. “This isn’t the time to think. Take me already, doctor, please take me.”
I dropped her in the lake.