📍EPISODE 1:
"The Heat in My House Was Nothing Compared to the One in My Chest"
The AC broke down on a Thursday.
But the real heat had started months ago.
Not in the room.
In me.
I'm Temitope, 36, mother of one, co-founder of a growing real estate company.
From the outside? I'm the definition of "put together."
But inside, I was tired of holding myself together for everyone else.
My husband, Michael, is a good man.
Provides. Prays. Pays bills.
But somehow, he hasn't looked at me like a woman since our child was born.
Just a roommate. A co-parent. A convenient routine.
I miss being touched like I mattered.
I miss being undressed slowly.
I miss being craved.
So when the house started to feel like a sauna, I called a technician.
I expected an old uncle with a belly and toolbox.
What I got… was Tariq.
Young.
Lean.
Hausa accent laced with calm confidence.
Dark lips. Long fingers.
Eyes that didn't wander — they lingered.
He didn't smile much. But when he did…
My thighs tightened.
> "Good afternoon, Ma."
"You can call me Temi," I said, trying not to stare.
"Yes… Temi."
He got to work.
Up on a ladder. Shirt lifting slightly. Sweat glistening. Tools in hand.
I sat. Pretending to scroll through emails. But my mind was elsewhere.
His cologne was light. Masculine. Sharp.
His presence? Heavy. Tension-filled.
"Your compressor's overheating," he said, tapping the outdoor unit. "But I'll fix it."
If only someone could fix me.
When he came back inside, wiping sweat from his arms, I handed him a bottle of water. Our fingers brushed.
Something sparked.
Not just in me — in him too.
> "Thank you," he said, his voice low.
"You're very good with your hands."
He paused. Looked up.
That was when the air shifted.
He didn't touch me.
Didn't say a word.
But the way his eyes scanned my face… then my neck… then down, slowly — respectfully — made me feel bare.
Seen.
Studied.
Remembered.
The AC clicked on. Cold air began to hum through the vents.
But I was burning.
> "It's working now," he said. "You'll sleep well tonight."
I licked my bottom lip unconsciously. "I haven't slept well in months."
His jaw tensed. Like he wanted to say something… but didn't.
> "Do you do house calls? Like… regular maintenance?"
He nodded. "If you need me, I'll come back."
We both knew I wasn't talking about the AC anymore.
I watched him walk out. His shoulders straight. Head bowed slightly.
Professional. Disciplined.
But when he turned back at the door and said,
> "Just call me directly next time. I'll answer quicker,"
I felt it.
That heat?
It wasn't coming from the broken AC.
❤️ R0mantic Dynamics:
Tariq doesn't cross lines — but his masculinity is undeniable. Quiet. Present. Respectful.
Temi's desire isn't just physical — it's emotional starvation meeting
To be continued....
🔥 Episode 2: "The Technician Came Again… And This Time, He Didn't Just Fix My AC" – Would you like it next?