Derby Desire
"When taxi driver Folake picks up banker Richard late at night, she doesn't expect the chemistry. One wrong turn leads them both exactly where they need to be."
"Long day?" Folake asked her passenger through the rearview mirror.
Richard Ashworth, clearly exhausted banker, managed a tired smile. "The longest. Merger negotiations went until midnight."
"Poor thing. Where to?"
"Kedleston Road. The big house at the end."
She pulled away from the station, navigating Derby's quiet streets.
"Nigerian?" he asked, noting her accent.
"Lagos, originally. Came over fifteen years ago."
"What brought you?"
"A man who wasn't worth keeping." She laughed. "Now I drive nights and mind my business."
"Sounds peaceful."
"It has its moments."
They talked the whole ride. He was recently divorced, married to his job, lonely in ways he didn't know how to fix. She was single by choice, independent, building something for herself.
"Turn here," he said as they approached his street.
She did—and ended up on a dead end.
"That's not right. The GPS must have—"
"Folake." His voice was different now. "Can I be honest?"
"Of course."
"I don't want this ride to end. I haven't talked to anyone like this in... I don't remember how long."
She turned to face him. The streetlights caught the planes of his face, the exhaustion and the loneliness.
"What do you want, Richard?"
"Company. Just for a little while." He hesitated. "Is that inappropriate?"
"Probably." She turned off the meter. "My flat's ten minutes away. I have whiskey."
"That sounds perfect."
She drove without the meter running, acutely aware of him in her back seat. Something had shifted between them, and she wasn't sure she wanted to stop it.
Her flat was small but warm. She poured them both whiskey and sat beside him on the sofa.
"I should tell you—I don't usually do this," she said.
"Neither do I. I haven't been with anyone since my divorce."
"When was that?"
"Two years."
"Too long." She set down her glass. "For both of us."
She kissed him, and he responded like a man dying of thirst. His hands found her waist, her hips, pulling her thick body close.
"God, you feel good," he breathed.
"So do you."
She led him to her bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. Her body wasn't perfect—thick thighs, soft belly, heavy breasts—but he looked at her like she was everything.
"Beautiful," he said. "Absolutely beautiful."
"Show me."
He did. With his mouth, his hands, his complete attention. He explored her like she was something to be savored, and she came twice before he finally entered her.
"Yes—Richard—more—"
He gave her more. Slow and deep, watching her face. When they finally finished together, it felt like something clicking into place.
Morning found them tangled in her sheets, the taxi still parked outside.
"I should pay for the ride," he said sleepily.
"Consider it on the house."
"What about future rides?"
She propped herself up. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I don't want this to be one night. I mean I want to see you again. Properly."
"You want to date your taxi driver?"
"I want to date you." He pulled her close. "If you'll have me."
She had him. Again and again, over the following months.
The investment banker and the taxi driver became Derby's most unexpected couple. His colleagues raised eyebrows. Her passengers asked questions.
Neither cared.
"How did you two meet?" people would ask.
"She picked me up," Richard would say, looking at Folake with obvious adoration.
"Best fare I ever had," she'd agree.
One wrong turn had taken them exactly where they needed to be. Sometimes getting lost was the only way to be found.