“I…”
“Just think it over, and I’ll hopefully see you at noon.”
She nodded, her throat dry despite the water she’d drunk. After all, she wasn’t sure what to do. But now Zahir would be eager to have her answer and soon.
***
“Brother, you have an interesting way of getting information from employees, I admit that,” Fairuza said. She’d come to his office in the palace and was taking an emery board to her nails. Her sleek, dark hair was pulled up into braids and she looked sharply dressed at six on Saturday morning, already in a suit. He wasn’t surprised. Fairuza wouldn’t know a weekend if it bit her on the ass. “In fact, I wanted you to hire Miss Morgan because of how closely she’d worked under McDermott and her level of obvious discontent. The spectacular firing of hers. It’s quite the story and everyone in the Boston CEO set has heard it. But I didn’t expect you to seduce it out of her. That’s not fair.”
“I’m not.”
“She’s in our guest room and she’s clearly been busy last night. It’s one thing to give her a job and security for everything she’ll be unaware she’s giving you. I think that’s overall a fair swap, but you can’t just use her and seduce her for what you need. That’s not just drinks and a relaxed dinner. That’s something appalling.”
“It’s not like that at all. I…she’s special, and I know this sounds insane, but there’s something so familiar about her, something that touches me deeply. I can’t help that I’m falling for her and that she has information that I need. I swear that this weekend away—”
“What?” she asked, arching a skeptical eyebrow. “You’re going away with her? How is this not about seducing an innocent to nefarious gains?”
“It’s not. I just…this weekend will be about us, and I won’t be trying to take information from her. There’s something between us, and I have to explore it.”
“And what if she ever finds out why you hired her in the first place?”
“I won’t ever let her know. None of this is what it looks like. I can’t help who I’m attracted to or the way she makes me feel, but I’m also not a fool. I know this looks terrible, and I just want to have a good weekend. She deserves that.”
“If in bed she happens to confess some dark secret of a certain steelworks, then that’s fine too. You’ll crush her if she finds out.”
“Then,” he said, storming back out of his office, “she’ll never know. I’ll protect her from everything. I can do it.”
***
She wasn’t sure how any of this had happened. Three weeks ago, she’d been working her ass off at a dead-end job and trying to guess her boss’s cryptic coffee orders every morning at the local Starbucks. Now she was working for a company halfway across the world and being swept away by its CEO and the resident sheikh of Dubai. That didn’t seem possible. She wasn’t the woman who had been whisked away in a Land Rover to a hotel at the outskirts of the Al Ain. They’d had to take the SUV because of the rough terrain, the harsh desert sands in boulders creating quite an obstacle in their way. But now they’d spent the day seeing the sights of the Al Ain, including the beautiful palace of the former Sheikh Zayed. She wondered if that man, who’d been so influential to Dubai’s growth, was related to Zahir.
She was out on a date with a head of state. He came from a long line of sheikhs. People in his family could have been shaping politics and government in the Middle East for decades or centuries for all she knew. It was so overwhelming, all of it, and it made her keenly aware of how different they were from one another, how very much their experiences were night versus day.
Still, they’d done a tour of the big palace and museum and had a traditional dinner of spiced lamb and dates. What they were doing next was something she never would have expected of a CEO. The fancier things like dinner, sure, but here she was at the Al Ain Camel Market. Addison was glad that he’d told her to put on more normal clothes, nothing fancy. Not that the camels had spit at her (although she’d been told they were likely to do that and often). However, it was quite a sight to behold. It was only six in the evening so the sun was low in the sky, the orange light spreading out through the burgeoning evening.
Everywhere she looked, there were stalls made like little bodegas, maybe no more than twelve-foot squares, and each one had at least half a dozen camels or more. As she passed one stall with its high gates, she had to smile at the matching white and pink woven blankets draped over the four animals’ humps. They were woven with rose patterns and the camels almost stuck out for her as more elite than some of the others. It was a funny, quirky thought, the idea of a designer camel.
In the distance, the next round of races was about to start, but she hadn’t been interested in that. No, she just was following Zahir, seeing what he loved here.
“You brought me to a camel bazaar?”
“The market is years old and one of the most respected sales markets of any kind in Dubai. Besides, you asked me what I loved in life. Did you really doubt when I said animals?”
“So if you didn’t have billions of dollars, a company of employees depending on you, and a country to run, then you’d be a camel rancher or breeder or whatever they’re called,” she said, scrunching her face up a bit at her inability to find the right camel-wrangling term.
They passed a stall where only a mother and her baby stood. The little one’s fur was so light that it was almost white and it stood no more than four feet high. His head was tiny in proportion to the rest of his body, and Addison chuckled at his gangly appearance once she realized how much he’d have to grow to be as big as his mother, who was easily twice as tall as he was, or at least it seemed like it with her hump.
“He’s so adorable,” she said.
Zahir nodded beside her and pulled a few juicy dates from his pocket. “Would you like to feed him? The market won’t object.”
“It would be bad to disagree with the wishes of your sheikh, wouldn’t it?” she asked, winking at him.
Addison knew that she had a tendency to put her foot in her mouth, and she knew she’d wounded him at first when she’d woken up at the palace. She just wanted him to understand that none of this was because he was sheikh or she wanted or (conversely) disdained his wealth. No, all of this between them was because they had shared such passion on that roof, and she’d never felt anything like it in her life. Part of her was scared she never would again if she ran from it.
“Yes,” he replied drolly. “I’ll make heads roll, have no doubt of that. I must have prime ability to carouse with camels at all times.”
“Well, at least you admit your monomaniacal dromedary tendencies,” she added, holding out her date, cupped in her palm. “That’s the first step to recovery.”
Zahir affected a deep, rousing bass and shook his head. “Being megalomaniacal is the best part of being a sheikh, don’t ask me to give up on the perks. And you need to hold your palm flat. It’s the best way to avoid being bitten by an overeager baby camel.”
“Well I would like to keep my fingers.”
He leaned forward and kissed her neck, teasing her pulse point as well with a quick flick of his tongue. Damn him. That tricky man was already stoking the fires within her belly, leaving her core aching for him. “They’re very talented. I have to admit that it would be a shame to lose them. I’d be rather devastated.”
“Good to know,” she said, holding out her palm and laughing at the camel’s soft and moist tongue lapping at her palm until he slurped up the date. “Aww, thanks for the kiss, little fella.”
“You’ll say that to him but not to me? Should I be offended?” he asked, this time kissing her neck and suckling hickies into her flesh. Addison blushed to think of the love bites that would be visible on her skin, marking her as the sheikh’s. “I should be thanked for my kisses as well.”
She turned and kissed him back, her tongue playing with his. “Then thank you for the perfect day and for such an adorable finis
h to the date so far. How did you get into animals? You said you had a falcon, right?”
He nodded and crooked his arm so that she could walk with him. “Maybe it would be more respectable to be a veterinarian than a breeder, but what I want to do more than anything else is to be free, to feel just that wilderness. Maybe I’m someone who’d fall off the grid and become a mountain man or a desert hermit if I didn’t have any other obligations, but I’d need a good steed with me, and in the desert, a camel’s a terrific companion.”
“I wouldn’t know,” she said. “I haven’t even ridden a horse before, let alone a camel.”
“Well, I’d like to fix that last part at least. For horses, of course we have Arabians back at the palace. We’ll have to set you up with that one day as well,” he admitted. Then he stopped in front of a camel held by a man in long white robes. The camel had a makeshift saddle, bumpy under a woven blue blanket. “Would you like a ride, my lady?”
Zahir punctuated his question by kissing the back of her hand. The cur.
She nodded as he helped her onto the camel first. Addison sat back on the seat and watched as Zahir effortlessly jumped in front of her. That was a relief. If she’d been responsible for trying to steer the animal, then they’d wind up in a ditch somewhere; God knew she had no idea how to do it. To be fair, she was sure that just kicking at the camel’s side a bit and begging with a “pretty please” wouldn’t help her.
Besides, this was better.
Like this, she was able to press her body against his back, to feel the heat and heft of him, and revel in his exotic scent. “I’m game for anything, my sheikh.”
Except telling you the full truth, about everything that we’ve actually done together. I just can never tell you that I’m your kitten.
She pushed those thoughts away—the worry that he’d somehow find out too much about her and run away, or that his pretty words and promises would mean nothing once they started work again on Tuesday. Right now, she had him, and she could cling tightly to the muscles of his body as they both rode off into the glimmering sunset.
It was enough for now.
It would have to be.
***
Her heart was still pounding when they got back to their bedroom. The bed was a four-poster monstrosity with a comforter of woven silk and golden thread. The camel ride hadn’t been fast or difficult. It hadn’t even been dangerous. There was no racing into the sunset, just a gentle ride where, okay, she’d been convinced she’d still fall off even if they were going a grand total of five miles an hour. Overall, she was glad that he’d come up with the idea. There was a lot to be said for being so near to him, to having a valid reason to cling to his body. If she’d sat in front, having his hardness so near to the cleft of her rear, bumping up against her with every step, then Addison knew she’d have been unable to have rational thoughts. Since she had been positioned behind him, riding with him hadn’t left her hot and bothered, desperate to feel all of him deeply inside of her.
Now, even though they were back and their contact had been reduced to his arm wrapped around her shoulders as they stood inside the room, her heart was working overtime to pound out of her chest. She needed him, and Addison needed him to know that.
“Are you alright, Addy?” he asked, frowning at her. “Was the ride alright?”
“It was probably the most romantic thing I’ve ever done. Far away from my home, more or less alone with my sheikh and watching the sunset, seeing that explosion of reds and roses across the sky? It was all amazing.”
“Then why do you look so bothered? Your brow’s furrowed so hard that I almost expect that you’re doing quantum physics equations in your head.”
“I’m not bothered,” she said. “Well, not in that way.”
Great, Addy, like that doesn’t sound too desperate.
“Then in what way are you, ahem, bothered?” he asked.
She turned and traced one finger over the loose fabric of his robes. “I think you know exactly how I’m bothered, and what you can do to calm me. Two nights ago, I was a bit fuzzy, couldn’t enjoy every single moment as thoroughly as I wanted to.”
“You brought me to my knees and beyond, Addy, there’s nothing for you to be ashamed of. It was fantastic.”
“Exactly,” she said, tracing one nail over his cheek. “And I want to feel that too. I need to feel that. Can you make love to me, Zahir? Fully?”
“Is this what you want? When you woke up at the palace…”
“I’m scared,” she said. That was a bit of a fib. She was far more than scared. She was terrified. If anything happened between them, if it all went badly, then she was back couch surfing in Boston, but she had to take this chance. “I know it’s hard to trust anyone, and I’ve had some shitty luck of late, but this is something good, something so pure between us. Please, my sheikh, make love to me.”
He frowned, and for a minute she half-feared, half-hoped that he’d recognize her as his kitten. But soon, Zahir was shaking that momentary confusion from his face and rushing to the side table by the bed. He pulled out the foil packet and tossed it to the mattress. Before her, he grinned and started to strip, pulling off his thin linen shirt slowly until she finally saw the great expanse of his rippling abs and the tawny, olive complexion of his skin. She’d marveled at him in the dark of the limo, but that crappy lighting hadn’t done him any justice. Or, at least, not enough. He was a marvel to behold. Watching him unzip his trousers was the ultimate tease and she licked her lips, feeling that familiar flame and need flicker through her belly again.
Zahir shoved his pants down and, again, had no underwear underneath. Perhaps her sheikh had an exhibitionist streak in him. No, scratch that. After all they’d done on the roof of Club Rouge, she knew for a fact that he had such a showy side to him. But with a body like that, Zahir should have.
Her eyes widened at the full sight of his erection, sprung free and readied for her. He grinned back at her, undid the foil packet, and slid the condom over his member with practiced grace. Then he patted the mattress.
“I don’t know if this is completely fair. If I put on a bit of a show for you, Addy, then I should get something back before we get to bed.”
She shook her head, and then pulled her red hair out of the ponytail that had kept it controlled on the camel ride. Her mane of unruly curls spilled out over her shoulders, and she hated it, but the way Zahir’s pupils seemed to dilate a bit at the sight, Addison had a feeling that her sheikh loved her hair.
Well, at least it’s good for something…
“I want to make love up against the wall.”
“You what?” he queried, amusement thick in his voice.
“You heard me,” she said, slipping her T-shirt over her head and then unbuckling her bra. There was a Cheshire cat grin on her face; she could feel it spreading there, but she couldn’t stop it. Addison didn’t even want to. Zahir made her feel so much more womanly, like she was ready to explore every aspect of herself. Right now, what she wanted most was to let that wild side of her fully out. He said he’d always wanted to touch the wilderness. Well, let him find that between both of them.
Reaching down, she cupped her breasts, ran her hands over them and then made them creep lower. Agile fingers, emboldened by her lust, unbuttoned her jeans and she slid those off as well. Now she stood before her lover in nothing but her panties. Her creeping, curious fingers explored lower, digging under the waistband of her panties. Then, with a swift tug, she had yanked them down over her thighs and calves. When the rested on the ground around her ankles, Addison stepped directly out of them.
Now, naked as the day she’d been born, Addison stood before him with one hip jutted out, as if even her body was doing everything it could to convey the serious nature of her dare.
“Please, Zahir, come and get me.”
It was like provoking a bull by waving a red flag before him. Zahir was rushing for her then, his nostrils seeming to flare as
well. Before she knew it, she was swept up in his strong arms. She eyed the coiled muscles of his biceps and realized that this strong specimen of man was hers, at least for the weekend, and she intended to take every advantage of it.
“You’re mine now, Miss Morgan,” he said, his tone a gravelly bass that made her wet, left her juices dripping from her channel.
“I am yours, my sheikh,” she responded, smirking broadly at him. “How are you going to prove it?”
“Like this,” he said, carrying her to the closest wall. Her back bit into the cool stone, and she felt the heft of him, the heaviness of his massive body as he pinned her to the wall. “I’m going to show you so many things, Addy.”
“All talk and no action is extremely cheap, my sheikh,” she teased.
He didn’t speak or offer a rejoinder for her taunt. Instead, his mouth was on the rosy pink bud of her nipple, his tongue flicking quickly until it had risen into a hardened, sensitized peak. She mewled under his ministrations as Zahir’s talented tongue started to circle her left areola with feverish devotion. Addison was even wetter than before.
But he wasn’t ready yet.
While his mouth alternated between licking, tickling, and suckling at both nipples, his right hand went lower. She realized only his left arm was left wrapped around her, but his body had pinned her well to the wall and his bulk and sheer strength of his arms had her securely in place. Once she realized how steady her position was, she relaxed and gave in to the sensations—the ragged panting of both of them, the cool stone biting into her back, the scent of sweat pouring from her lover. His fingers found her most secret folds and parted them. Then he slid a long, thick finger into her channel.
He pulled his finger out, slowly and deliberately, torturing her before he gave her all that she wanted.
“You’re so ready for me, aren’t you, Addy? Do you want me inside of you? Do you want all of me?”
“Yes,” she gasped out, her voice a husky whisper that she barely recognized.
He slid two fingers inside of her this time, stretching her a bit as he went. “Really, what will you do for me?”
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