Zaire King

Zaire wrapped his arms around Bibi and embraced her deeply. He felt her relax into his chest, into the safety he was offering to her, and his heart swelled with affection.

Zaire King didn’t talk about girls with his older brother. Not because he didn’t trust Malik with his feelings and heart longings, but because Malik saw women as trophies he could hang, hide, or misplace. Well, not all women. Bibironke was an exception.

Zaire didn’t mean to fall for Bibi. In fact, he tried his hardest to ignore her, to forget the shape of her chin, the look of her face—almond-shaped eyes, slim nose with a pointed tip, high cheekbones—and how she wore her hair, which drove him crazy. In his eyes, Bibi was faultless.

When she visited the penthouse he shared with Malik in King’s Court, Zaire would smile thinly at her and quietly slip into his room. He did this tortuous song and dance for six months until the weekend Malik had to return to London for an extended business trip.

A few hours after Malik had left for the airport, Bibi turned up at the door with two medium-sized travel bags.

“Mailk said I could stay here for as long as I needed. Okay with you?”

“Of course. I’ll give you your space— I miss my flat anyway.”

“You’re going to leave me here?” Zaire remembered how Bibi had cocked her head to the side after she asked the question. “Alone?”

“I’m a morning person, and many people can’t handle that. Malik included.”

Bibi let out a sharp laugh. “Just say you don’t like me. No need to make excuses, babe.”

Zaire still cannot explain the events that ensued. He remembers leaping from the couch and taking three long strides in Bibi’s direction before standing before her and drinking in every inch of her face.

“I don’t like you? Bibi, you must be mad. Respectfully.”

“Zaire! Don’t be rude.” Bibi sounded angry, but he saw her smile and knew she knew.

“You know, don’t you?”

“I’m a lot of things, but I’m not blind or stupid.”

“B, can I hold you?”

“Malik will literally disown you.”

“Yes or no, Bibi?”

“Malik wants me and him to be more than friends.”

---

Zaire scoffed in shock and shook his head. No way. Even though he knew his next move was somewhat reckless and would cause tension between him and his brother, Zaire refused to let Bibi go without knowing how he truly felt about her.

“Do you want to be more than friends with him?”

“I don’t know, and I’m being so real right now. Malik makes sense on paper. We’ve been friends since we were loud teenagers. There’s history and mutual respect. But I don’t know.”

“Bibi, do you want to be with my brother? Yes or no?”

Zaire watched Bibi closely. She couldn’t mask the emotions swirling around her face even if she tried. He had always suspected Bibi had feelings for him, but now, with his question hanging heavy between them, he knew for sure.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was a whisper, but Zaire heard her loud and clear. He was the man she needed and would prove himself to her.

“Bibi, do you want to explore this thing between us?” He reached for her hand, and she obliged with a shy smile.

“I think I do.”

“Can you trust me?”

“I could, but you’ll have to earn it.”

“I’m ready to do whatever it takes to have a woman like you on my team. Bibi, I’ve been fighting my feelings for you for six months. I don’t want to go back to my flat. I want to stay right here with you.”

“I’m a slow burn, Zaire, and I’m not giving you any cheat codes or free passes.”

“And I’m a King man, Bibi. I can handle your flame and whatever else you throw at me. I only care about showing you that I’m exactly who you’ve been looking for.” He squeezed her hand gently to keep her calm and focused on his words, not her racing pulse.

“What do you know about the kind of man I’m looking for?”

“Because while you were just looking at me as Malik’s little brother, I took my time to understand what makes you tick. I know how you like your coffee - black -, your favorite lipstick shade - King lipstain in Farah -, your preferred scent - lavender -, and your not-so-secret dream vacation destination.

“Okay, point taken and I stand corrected.” Bibi leaned into him and rested her head on his chest. Zaire was a foot taller than her, and that little move made him want to protect her from the world.

“I am so serious about you, Bibi. I may be a few years younger, but I intend to come correct when it comes to you.”

“I’ll believe you when I see your actions matching your words.” Zaire smiled in approval. She was one hundred his type.

“Are you ready to explore this thing between us?

“I am.

“Can I hold you?”

“Yes, you can.”

---

Zaire was the kind of man who needed consent from his love interest before he made his next move. Given his tastes and proclivities, he was firmly against turning up the heat until he was sure his partner was on the same page as him. In the early years of his self-discipline training, Zaire learned how to handle rejection from cautious women and regulate unruly cravings.

By principle, he never pressured any woman into giving him consent prematurely. But he was ready to take the lead when they were ready to acquiesce to his guidance and pace. With this in mind, Bibi’s consent thrilled him and intensified his desire for her.

Zaire wrapped his arms around Bibi and embraced her deeply. He felt her relax into his chest, into the safety he was offering to her, and his heart swelled with affection. He slowed down his breathing to match hers, appreciating how easily attuned he was to her needs.

“I need to ask you a question,” Zaire exhaled loudly before he continued. “But I want you to know that whatever you say will not change my feelings for you.”

Bibi lifted her head and looked up at him.

“You want to know if Malik and I have ever been intimate?”

Bibi’s emotional intelligence was a factor that contributed to her general appeal.

“Yes, I do. I promise you, Bibi, I will not switch up on you. Whatever history you have with my brother is in the past and will stay in the past.” His words tumbled out of his mouth in a mad rush; he felt naked and unmasked and very unlike his usual poised and mysterious self.

“Malik and I have never been intimate.”

The silence between them stretched over the truth of her words. Zaire believed her, and he was relieved to hear that nothing had happened between Bibi and his brother. Bibi would be the first woman to win the hearts of the King brothers simultaneously. Zaire’s type was confident, expressive, and adaptable; Malik preferred his women to be reserved, ambitious, and miles away from him.

Bibironke was everything they wanted in a woman, so Zaire was not surprised to learn that his brother had finally stepped up to the plate. However, he had no desire to delve deeper into Bibi’s universe without knowing the extent of her history with Malik. The King family was serious about loyalty and transparency.

“Never, Bibi?”

“Never, Zaire.”

Zaire’s sigh of relief alleviated the tension left after their exchange. He snaked his hand up her back, around her neck, and buried his fingers into her tight curls.

“Are you ready to be with a man like me?”

“I am.”

At that moment, Zaire knew he would make Bibi his woman.