A Desert King's Obsession

by Christine Gray

  It takes the sound of running water to pull me out of the weeds. I catch the back of Chadli stepping into the tub.

  “Make sure you’re dressed before I’m done.”

  “We’re on a schedule?”

  “It’s more of out of sight, I pray out of mind,” he mumbles.

  SHAHID

  From the corner of my eye, I watch her leave. I refuse to give the sway of her hips my full attention. Sinking under the water, I try to drown my mounting lust for this woman. The voice pierces my brain as it begs me to just fuck the need out. Get it over with. If it lasts the entire month, fine. If not, toss her a few thousands, say thank you, and send her on the way to start the hunt for a replacement. Yet, I can’t. The thought of losing out on entertaining conversation, poking holes in her lies to get to the truth, all the mystery, and laughter wrapped up in her 137 pounds is one I don’t want to become a reality. No doubt, dipping in the cream would ruin the entire batch.

  Breaking the surface of the water, I give my lungs the gulp of air they had been craving.

  “Found anything to your liking?”

  “That’s the problem. There’re too many,” Chione shouts back.

  “Pick out something for tonight and choose three more,” I yell.

  “Oh, I’m loving these panties and bra combos.”

  “I bet,” I grumble under my breath.

  I wonder which she picked. The lacey boy shorts that leave a bit of sweet ass cheeks hanging or the thongs that ride high to reveal my favorite spot on a woman. I love sucking and running the tip of my tongue along the junction where the leg joins to the pussy. I take my time getting dressed. For reasons I won’t focus on, I want to be an accessory to Chione. A pair of loose-fitting jeans, a grey, long-sleeve shirt with matching canvas sneakers is my attire. Dior’s Savauge lingers in the air when I bathe my skin in the scent. A diamond-encrusted Rolex ties it all together.

  By the time I enter the room, Chione is ready. Like a top model, hands on her hips, she gives me a runway stroll. I can’t hide my smile. The bright yellow pantsuit hugs her hips in all the right places. The color of the material makes her onyx skin glow. The closer she gets, I frown over the fact that her skin is actually glowing. Running a finger on her shoulder, my tip comes back glowing, too.

  “The lotion,” she points.

  I nod, understanding. “Makeup wasn’t delivered?”

  An odd expression flashes on her face. “My skin…” She gestures to her skin. “I’m prone to breakouts, so…”

  “I’ll have a dermatologist appointment scheduled for you. A few treatments and creams will clear that right up. Most of the time, all that is needed is a toxic cleaning and change of diet,” I explain. “You look fine without makeup, though. Perfect, actually,” I promise as I take a step back. I make a big show of looking her over. I don’t want her to lose any of her self-esteem over something as silly as pimples and lack of makeup.

  The bed is calling me loud and clear. Hand on her lower back, I gesture her towards the archway, which will lead us out into the hallway.

  “I gotta give you props. The house is really, really nice.”

  Cutting my eyes, I tell her, “This house isn’t mine.”

  Clicking her tongue, she sasses, “Your pictures are all over the place.” She tsks. “I won’t come back unless invited.” She scoffs.

  I don’t respond. At least Chione knows the deal. I never tend to fuck with women not vetted through Catharine’s services or through a good friend. Not doing so always led to problems with women getting high ambitions. I stamp down a nagging feeling of why Chione is so with the program. How many times did she hook up with men? Yes, I know I have women at my disposal. Hell, I have a goddam harem of enough flavors to never grow tired or to be in fear of getting blue balls. If I want something new, a snap of my fingers has them lining up. I have no room to be petty, but it’s a man’s world.

  I make sure to keep the conversation light. At least I thought it would be, but being with Chione has a way of causing the topics to be meaty and thought-provoking. I can’t just zoom down the road, lost in thought, jumping in and out of speaking with her in the passenger’s seat. No, I have to be on my toes and weigh my responses, only to be pulled further down into a rabbit hole. By the time we make it to our private tour, I’m dizzy with all the shit knocking around in my head. Shit that I know I’ll be tossing around to analyze later.

  Never judge a book by its cover.

  I’m reminded of the old saying while I stroll over to take Chione out of the valet’s hand. Never in my wildest of dreams would I have thought to find the one thing to stimulate and give my life meaning behind a fuckin’ bar. I ignore her curious glare at my chuckle. The joy bubbles to the point that I have to fight back the desire to get hysterical.

  “Try pretending that you’re not so smart,” I whisper into her ear as we make our way up the stairs to the museum of art. “It’s a private showing of a collection of Middle Eastern and African art. I missed it when the items were on display in London.”

  I don’t give her time to respond. Speaking Arabic, I chat up the director of the exhibit. Actually, that was the last I heard Chione speak. At first, I worried if it was because of the rich and influential company along for the tour. Then I realized it was because she was soaking up every second like a sponge. Afraid to sound like an idiot, Chione tugs on my elbow or pokes me in my side to get my attention only to whisper her question for me to ask aloud.

  Returning to the start, we stayed long after to take our time debating and discussing the pieces. Amused, I hid my gaze behind my lids whenever she captured the attention of another man. I said nothing when a few overstep by listening to our conversation. The sly fuckers would comment, then work me out of the conversation. Hungry and eager for knowledge, Chione would fall under the spell for a while. Whenever I began to stroll away to glance at another piece, that was her cue to break that shit up. As long as it was respectful talk with the men keeping their eyes in their heads, I let it roll off. I had no problem cutting the bullshit when I notice the men were being too obvious.

  I’m watching her closely over lunch, hours later. With ease, she handles herself perfectly in the setting. Like a chameleon, Chione adapts to any surroundings. Where most people would get confused with the changing of the food courses, combined with which utensil to use, the woman doesn’t skip a beat. A testament to the training that she’s had to have gotten from where I have no fuckin’ idea. The more time I spend with Chione, the more I’m intrigued to peel back her layers to reveal the truth.

  “Is that meat haram?”

  I slow my chewing. My fork and knife freeze over my plate. “What do you know about that?”

  Not glancing up from her own lamb, she eyes my plate before speaking, “You can’t eat pork because of the cloven feet.”

  “I’m on vacation. I don’t care to be chastised when there are pastors calling holy that are fucking little girls and priests raping altar boys.”

  “Oh…” She smiles.

  With a frown, I stare at my plate. I don’t hide my annoyance as I snatch up my cloth napkin to spit out the only bite of the meat I’ve taken. Without warning, I reach over, grab her plate, and cut her rack of lamb in half to take a portion for myself.

  “Thank you,” I grumble in shame before going back to eating.

  “Who was I gonna tell?” She smirks with a wink.

  “It’s the fact that you would have known bugs me.”

  “Why?”

  It’s a question that I really didn’t want to answer. My deadpan expression must have told her that.

  Shrugging, I can tell she’s trying to find the right words, “So, this is a stay vacay for you?”

  “I would have to be here more than I am for that to classify.” Her question opens the door for the lie I’ve been working out. “I bought that house knowing I was soon to be making partner at my firm. I got the position. I just didn’t know that with it came constant travel. I’m barely
at the damn place, so I rent it out.”

  Shit, I wish Chione would look at me so I could tell if my lies are sticking? Instead, she’s either examining her plate or glancing off at the ocean view to the left of us.

  “I never would have thought being a lawyer would cause for so much moving around.”

  “Well, certain clients demand a certain level of experience,” I explain carefully.

  “Oh, I know the clients you’re hinting about.” She scoffs.

  “Really? Who do you know that I—”

  “Never mind.”

  Yeah, never mind. I already know Raymond knows her. That’s one connection. I’m hoping she will drop a few more names. Even if they aren’t people that Chadli actually knows, I can pass the names along to him to help with the mystery of Chione.

  “How long have you worked at the bar?” I sense her uneasiness. “Look, your nosey ass can’t be the one asking all the questions.”

  “Not long.”

  That was not the answer I’d wanted, but I would take it. “Where did you work before then?”

  “A different club.”

  I fight back the desire to snap at her. “Still a bartender?”

  “It was part of the job description.”

  “Chione, why do you have to be this way? I want to get to know you.”

  Tilting her head, Chione give me a sheepish grin, “I say let’s kick it with the fictional characters we’ve created,” she says, stressing that word to let me know she’s seen through my lies.

  “Even fiction possesses a grain of truth.” I chuckle.

  “So, they say,” she finishes with an eye roll. “Okay then,” she starts. “I’m a runaway and I’m still running because of the person I had to kill years ago had to die. If certain people were to find me again, I would be forced to face the music. Yeah, being on the run isn’t easy. When I think about what I gave up to have a life, I get all choked up, you know. But it was either killing one person or killing a handful of others.”

  The funny thing about her story is the way she told it. No remorse. Not even a blink of an eye. Her dark orbs bore into mine as she recited what was supposed to be fiction, but there is truth laced somewhere in there. Her name not being her real one backs up the runaway part. Then again, she could just have hated the name she was given. A second later, I switch back to my first thought. The baggage Cheryl and Ray hinted at could be the murder charge. Shit, if she was a stone-cold killer, why the fuck did they hook my ass up with her? Then again, Chione did say the person had to die. Maybe she was being abused, raped, or both. Then again, it could all be bullshit. The girl had to come from money. She could have gotten pissed with her mother, packed her shit, and dipped out. That scenario didn’t sit well with me. I’ll be gone at the end of the month while Chadli would be stuck dealing with pissed-off parents and the police.

  “Are you underage?”

  I can tell she’s confused with that being the next thing to come out of my mouth after all she had just said.

  “To serve liquor, I have to be at least twenty-one,” she clarifies.

  The waiter didn’t even card her for her drinks because she was with me.

  “Shit, show me some ID,” I demand.

  Chione can look thunderstruck all she fucking wants. She really thinks I’m going to take the word of her boss at the fuckin’ strip club. She could have fucked her way into the goddamn job. My anger goes from a low simmer to a boil the longer she takes to pull out her ID.

  “See, fool,” she grumbles.

  Chione is smart. The girl never misses a beat. She flashes me her ID but makes sure to cover up her address. The picture matches up, which proves the date of birth is correct, but that’s all it does.

  “It’s outdated,” I point out.

  Chione snatches it back, “But, it serves its purpose,” she whispers.

  Yeah, it did. Adding the extra years, it puts Chione at twenty-four to my thirty-two. She never renewed it once she turned twenty-one. That really didn’t help me, though. It only meant she could have been on the streets since age seventeen. She could be smart because she’s a fuckin’ Rain Man that reads and somehow can comprehend and retain shit.

  Taking a deep breath, I exhale it slow as I run my hands through my hair. At least I, know, Chadli won’t have a rape charge looming. Crossing that off, I’m brain punched with something she said.

  “You claim you killed someone. Was it just one person?”

  Chione licks her lips. “I’ve done it twice and I won’t hesitate to make it three if they come for me again.”

  “They?” I stress.

  Suddenly, Chione tosses back her head. Her laughter rings out, causing others to glance our way.

  “Jesus, Chadli.” She chuckles. “Fiction,” she reminds me.

  Yet, I don’t know. The chill that was just in the depths of her eyes spoke more than her words ever could. Wanting relief from the game we're playing, I fish a packet of pills out of my pocket.

  “Here, take these. Our ride will be here in an hour.”

  “A boat?” she chirps while reading the Dramamine label on the plastic. “You sure about this? I didn’t scare you?” she teases.

  All jokes aside, I lean across the table. Placing her smaller hand in mine, I thumb her soft flesh on the back of her hand.

  “Chione, don’t be deceived. I’m a man of many talents too and I have a life that is far valuable than another’s. With the right chemical, your flesh can be melted down to slime and your bones ground to dust. I can make your dream of disappearing come true to put a permanent end to your running. So, no, dear, I’m not scared.”

  I enjoy the shiver I experience as I kiss the back of her hand.

  “Fiction, remember,” I tease as I tap her hand lightly before releasing it. “Dessert?” I offer.

  “Yes.” She smiles, trying to downplay her feelings. “What are we doing on the boat?”

  “It’s a surprise.” I wink.

  “Hum?”

  I wait until the table is cleared, and we’ve placed our orders for the last course. Standing, I reposition my chair to her side of the table.

  “I know I don’t have on a dress, but is this the place for fingering?” she teases.

  I can’t stop the laugh. Shaking my head, I get to making my point, “I want to broker a deal.”

  Why the hell do my eyes keep falling to her full lips?

  “A deal?”

  “For your time…all of your time while I’m here.”

  “I work. I need that job.”

  “No, you don’t. I already promised to get you back in school. As long as your grades are good, one of my charities will sponsor you. The aid will cover a place to stay and spending money,” I explain.

  “You mean you’ll be my sugar daddy and whenever you’re in town and want to fuck, you’ll be at my door,” she attempts to correct me.

  “At this stage, that’s not the stimulation I want from you. Seeing those lips wrapped around my dick is tempting, though,” I confess as I trace her mouth with my thumb. “Never doubt my attraction, Chione,” I say, speaking to the glimmer I caught in the depths of her eyes.

  “Are you married?”

  “No, and I don’t have kids, but I do have responsibilities to others,” I add.

  “So, I’m not the only one you’re dealing with.”

  It was a statement, not a question, and I wasn’t going to debunk her assumptions. In a way, I am a sugar daddy to many women I’m fuckin’ who’re living under my roof back home.

  “Most of the time, I travel, so I’ll call you and vice versa. When I’m back for vacation, you’re at my disposal to do more of this.” I wave my hand between us.

  “That’s it?” Chione questions in a disbelieving tone. “People with too much money,” she mumbles. “If that’s all you want, you got a fuckin’ deal.”

  3

  CHIONE

  That’s how it all started. I got to be honest. I thought Chadli was full of shit. I swore he w
as setting me up to do a switch and bait, but he’s been solid on this deal. I’m doing what I gotta do with my grades. The money is deposited into my account at the end of every month for my spending, and I guess the rent on the condo is being paid ‘cause a year later, the keys still work. Too bad everything else didn’t work out, though, which is why I’m busting my ass to cover my tracks before he knocks on the door.

  Grabbing up a box, I begin placing pictures I framed the night before around the condo. I have to make sure he believes I’ve been living here the entire time. Once I caught the same man lurking about the place, I was on my guard. Thankfully, the old lady across the way is a nosey bitch. She’s the one who clued me in on the same man taking pictures of me one morning when I left for the bus. Even if she was wrong, that’s all I needed to know. In the middle of the night, I packed my shit and was gone.

  As for the place, I went to someone that does real estate on the side. He did me a favor by renting out the place like an Airbnb through his company. That’s right, kiddos. I’m no fool. I’m making money off this shit. Chadli don’t know the difference. He’s off doing whatever, wherever. So, I’m doing all this shit to get the place right while praying that if someone was tracking me, the fucker has moved on since I’ve been gone from this place for the last eight months.

  I laid low in my new hood, but like always when it rains, it pours. You would think with the money I got from Chadli and the rent I would be banking. At least that’s what I thought. Nope. That’s not the case, though. I should have cut all ties with my people. In spite of the shit, I can’t just go cold turkey on my mother and little sister. They were victims too. Now, my dad can go fuck himself. Even still, hearing the hurt and worry from my ma over the mess he’s in, I had to do something. They might be separated, but she still loves the motherfucker. I’m sure that’s the reason why he always finds a way to show up to cry her a river.