He was heading down the terrace to the smaller house, Ejiro’s footsteps echoing behind him. Anticipation danced through his blood like the alcohol he’d just drank, making him feel warm and slightly dizzy.
They didn’t bother to switch on the lights when they entered the room, shutting and locking the door behind them.
In a blink, they were standing in front of each other, but like they’d shared some kind of unspoken agreement, they didn’t touch—hovering instead, barely an inch of space between their bodies.
“Ejiro,” Obiora whispered, his voice so fucking deep, shot to hell.
“Obiora.” Ejiro’s voice was just as thick, hoarse with need.
Obiora leaned closer, brushing the sides of their noses together.
“Oh God. Obiora. We shouldn’t,” Ejiro moaned, even as his body said otherwise, swaying closer instead of away. His lips were parted in sweet invitation.
And suddenly, it was on the tip of Obiora’s tongue—to tell Ejiro that they should just pack their things and leave. Or explain to Sophia during the filming of the next episode that they were attracted to each other and wanted to try things out in the “real” world. What did they have to lose?
But fear and insecurity chose that moment to rear their ugly heads.
What if, when it came down to it, Ejiro didn’t choose him? What if this whole thing was just the heightened emotions of the day? Ejiro had spent more time going on dates with Sophia—hell, he and Ejiro hadn’t even liked each other at one point, why would Ejiro choose to leave with him after everything he’d invested into his relationship with the bachelorette?
What if Ejiro only wanted him in here, and didn’t want him out there?
The thought was excruciating. And Obiora was still too raw from Sasha’s talk, from his kiss with Ejiro earlier—a rejection right now would literally destroy him. He couldn’t risk it.
So he swallowed down his longing, and whispered hoarsely, “All right.”
“All right,” Ejiro echoed. Obiora didn’t know if Ejiro sounded relieved or disappointed—or both.
Unable to resist, desperate for some kind of confirmation that this thing between them wasn’t one-sided, Obiora leaned in closer and brushed his lips gently against Ejiro’s cheek.
A small, sweet sigh of pleasure escaped Ejiro’s lips, filling Obiora with equal parts hunger and relief.
“Goodnight, then,” he whispered.
Ejiro swallowed loudly. “Goodnight, Obiora.”
Episode 6 – A Talk With Sasha
Episode Summary: This week, the men are paid a surprise visit by celebrity therapist Sasha Pierce. Unknown to the cast, Sasha has been a part of the filming from day one, observing their interactions with the bachelorette in order to offer her advice for this episode.
The surprise session brings out a vulnerable side to Jin that endears him to Sophia, earning him this week’s Red Heart. The bachelorette’s relationship with the other men also seems to have strengthened after their sessions, especially those with Chris Wu and Noah.
Alistair refused to take his own session seriously, which frustrated Sophia. He was eliminated during the session. Sophia felt like out of the remaining bachelors, Dean was the one she unfortunately connected with the least, and he was the second bachelor to be eliminated.
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TWENTY-TWO
TOMORROW, WAS WHAT OBIORA HAD told himself the night after his kiss with Ejiro, when Ejiro had told him in a hoarse, frantic voice that they shouldn’t. Tomorrow, Obiora had thought, as they’d watched each other in the darkness until they’d fallen asleep, their hands stretched out across their beds, stopping short of the small space that separated their mattresses. I’ll talk to him properly tomorrow, and figure out where we stand.
That had been nearly three days ago. Now, here Obiora was, his heart in his throat, and his stomach molten with a desire so intense and so unwavering it was practically becoming a part of him.
Ejiro sat on the other end of the n-shaped sofa, his legs stretched out along the length of it, where Obiora’s own legs were perched. Their legs were subtly intertwined, with one of Ejiro’s calves between Obiora’s and vice versa, but both men were pretending like nothing was amiss—like the very air between them wasn’t rife with a tension so thick Obiora could have cut into it with a knife.
The men’s too-brief visit to Venice had finally ended, and they were back at the mansion in Oxford. Since there were only six of them left—Dean had been eliminated during the heart giving ceremony of last week’s episode—the mansion felt infinitely larger. The men had decided to share the six rooms between themselves, leaving each man to a single room. After the intimacy of their shared room in Venice, Obiora’s chosen room at the mansion felt painfully big.
For what felt like the millionth time—Obiora didn’t even know how long they’d been out here—an hour? Three?—Ejiro pretended to adjust himself where he sat, and Obiora bit back a sound of pure torture when their legs “accidentally” brushed, lightning bolting up his legs and to his groin, to his heart and his throat, at the contact.
They were outside on the veranda, in the partially hidden corner Obiora had begun to inwardly refer to as their private nook. The rest of the men were inside the house; Jin, Noah, and Damien were sleeping off the jet lag, while Chris Wu was in the kitchen, whipping himself a sweet snack that permeated the air with the smell of dark chocolate and hot strawberries.
