Tobias was thrilled he had finally secured a tenant for his newly renovated garden cottage. At last, an extra income to ease the weight of his mortgage. The recent interest rate hikes had not been kind, and every rand mattered.
The sound of water streaming from the overhead shower became his refuge that night—a curtain of white noise drowning out the noise inside his skull. He didn’t want to hear his own thoughts, but the shower couldn’t quite silence them. Not when his mind insisted on replaying the image of his new tenant.
Dima.
He had never really been close to women of other races before, let alone entertained the thought of being with one. Yet Dima unsettled him in ways that made his skin tingle. It seemed he hadn’t just acquired a tenant for the cottage—he had let temptation move in with him. Her presence reverberated through the very bones of the property, like a vibration running through pipes and walls.
What was it about her that slipped under his skin so easily? Skin. Smooth, dark, luminous. His imagination betrayed him, conjuring the feel of his hand brushing along the line of her arm, the play of light across her shoulders. He shook his head, droplets flying from his wet hair, trying to wrench control back.
Had he made a mistake choosing her? Or had he, somewhere deep down, craved exactly this? Some men prayed to be delivered from temptation. Tobias had offered it keys.
He wondered how she was settling in. Was she comfortable? Was she lying in bed, tracing the ceiling with her gaze, her body stretching languidly against the sheets? He almost stepped out, towel half-clutched, to go check.
“No.” He rebuked himself firmly. She was a consenting adult. If she needed anything—anything—she would ask. Him showing up at her door this late would be inviting trouble.
And yet, wasn’t trouble already here?
Boundaries. He needed to build them thick and high—the Great Wall of China itself. Because for a woman like Dima, only a wall like that could keep his mind from straying. But picturing it only excited him more: the two of them sealed in on his gated property, stone and steel keeping the world out. No witnesses, no prying neighbours. The architecture itself colluded, offering secrecy, whispering: No one has to know what went on inside. Their secret. Their sin.
His thoughts drifted back to their earlier interaction, the one that had left him restless.
“Alright, Dima, here are your keys.” Their hands brushed in the exchange, sending an electric charge racing up his arm. The keys slipped, clinking sharply against the wooden deck of the patio. Tobias scrambled down to pick them up, his golfer shirt tightening across his back and shoulders like fabric stretched across a marble statue. Despite his age, his well-defined physique still appealed to the young ladies—like his new tenant Dima.
“Oops, sorry about that, Dima,” he said, rising again—only to find her gaze lingering on him a heartbeat too long.
Dima laughed softly, her finger tracing lazily along the chain of her pendant, eyes never leaving his. “Mmm… are you always this clumsy?”
Tobias shrugged, forcing casualness, “Guess I’m just not used to sharing my space. Having you here… feels different.”
“Oh,” she mouthed silently, as she tilted her head, “Different how?”
“Awkward. I guess,” Tobias swallowed hard, forcing a smile, as Dima stepped a little closer, lips curving.
“Awkward can be… interesting. Tell me—do I make you uncomfortable, Tobias?”
“Oh no,” he laughed nervously, rubbing his grey beard, “Maybe I just overthink too much.”
Dima smiled wittingly glancing up at the starry blanket that covered them that evening, then back into his eyes. “Well, you won’t need to overthink around me. I can already read your thoughts.”
Tobias arched an eyebrow, masking heat with humour, “Dangerous talent that. What thoughts do you see in there?”
Dima leaned in slightly, the patio rail pressing against her hip, her voice a whisper, “Oh, I don’t think you’d want me to say it out loud. But I could… if you want me to.”
The air thickened. Her scent—subtle, floral, dangerous—rose like incense between them. Her gaze burned, unblinking.
Tobias swallowed, beads of sweat betraying him as his eyes strayed to her slightly parted lips—his shirt collar suddenly becoming too tight. He prayed she wouldn’t see the effect she had on him. But his prayers went unanswered.
Dima tilted her head, her eyes widening playfully, large brown orbs fixing on him — smiling enigmatically. “Tobias, did I say something wrong?”
Tobias flushed, loosening his collar, trying not to fall into her lips again, “If you could really read my thoughts, you’d know I’m just thinking of ways to make your stay here… unforgettable.”
She paused, lips pressing together in a knowing smile, eyes smouldering, “Then maybe I’ll let you keep your secrets… for now. Goodnight, Tobias.” She said at last, her voice thick with suggestion.
That encounter had sent Tobias straight to the shower, hoping cold water would rinse the heat from his body. It hadn’t.
Now, robe cinched loosely, slippers sliding on the tiles, he froze at the sound of a knock. Soft, deliberate.
That door.
It was no longer just a door but a threshold, a hinge between restraint and ruin, a portal into everything he both feared and desired. The architecture of his home suddenly felt complicit—walls too thin, air too close, the timber frame itself trembling with possibility.
His hand hovered over the doorknob, droplets running down his wrist. He could almost feel her warmth pressing from the other side, seeping through the barrier.
The house dared him—Open the door.
A soft knock.
Tobias hesitated, as water still dripped down his arm as he tied his robe. He opened the door. And there stood Dima, silk nightgown draped loosely around her frame, eyes glowing in the dim light.
Tobias responded with a low voice, almost like a growl, “Dima… it’s late.”
Dima smiled slowly, stepping closer into the doorway, her bare feet threatening to transgress the threshold of the landlord tenant agreement she had signed the day before, “I know. I couldn’t sleep. Thought maybe… you couldn’t either.”
The silence swelled. The house creaked as though it disapproved, the pipes hissed, the walls groaned. But the door—still ajar—was an invitation and consent. Tobias’s hand gripped the steel door frame as her eyes lingered on his chest where the robe parted.
Tobias swallowed, heat rising as he ran his hand through his grey hair, “Look, if I let you in, Dima… you might not want to leave.”
Dima smiled defiantly, whispering against his ear, “Maybe that’s the idea.”
Her dainty fingers trailed along the edge of his robe.
Tobias was half-laughing, and half-breathless. Not really sure how to respond, whether he was dreaming, “You’re going to ruin me.”
“Or save you,” she replied, by this time her lips hovered near his, she whispered, “depends how you look at it.”
Tobias gripped her wrist instinctively, causing her silk to slip off one shoulder, revealing her dark skin gleaming in the moonlight. Their mouths hovering over each others’, breath mingling.
“Still think I can’t read your thoughts?”
Tobias whispered, “Last chance to turn back.”
“I’m exactly where I want to be.”
Lives Between Walls 
What do you think about this?