by Emma Nichols
Ash pulled Iman into her with such passion that it took her breath away. Her lips were on Iman’s, with the hunger of a starved animal needing to be fed or die.
The laughter that had bubbled up a moment ago in Iman’s chest had transformed into something entirely different. An awareness of the intense connection between them, a sense so fierce it burned a hole in her heart. Tears rolled down her cheeks merging with those from Ash. Even the salt tasted sweet. She eased back slowly from the kiss. Neither was smiling. The message that passed between them was something that existed beyond the realms of happiness. ‘I think I’m in love with you,’ Iman said.
‘I’m in love with you,’ Ash responded, softly.
Iman placed a tender kiss on Ash’s lips. When she pulled back, she was grinning, and Ash’s face had softened too. ‘I need to get to work,’ she said.
‘Yes! The shower is through there,’ Ash whispered, pointing to the door to the en-suite.
Iman rose from the bed, pulled Ash to her feet, and led her into the bathroom.
*
Ash picked up the tray and set it on the rails, her heart racing. It was a feeling she was starting to enjoy. Even though the breakfast dishes looked good, as always, her appetite for food had deserted her, having been replaced by something a lot more satiating. She still had the mischievous grin on her face when Iman bounced through the kitchen door, with another tray of food in her hand. ‘Morning,’ she said, her voice ragged.
Iman’s cheeks darkened in an instant, and the smile on her face beamed to the whole world that she had just made love with this woman. Fortunately, the dining room was still empty. ‘Do you want to give me a hand?’ she asked, with a flicker of her eyes.
‘Sure. Do I get a decent coffee too?’ Ash asked, sporting a huge grin.
‘Yes, I’ll show you where everything is.’ She followed Iman through to the kitchen. ‘This way,’ Iman directed, heading into the dark pantry. As soon as Ash stepped in behind her, Iman pinned her against the wall and planted a deep, lingering kiss on her lips.
A bolt of lightning shot down Ash’s spine and exploded in her core. ‘Jeez, don’t do that, seriously,’ she said, but she was laughing.
Iman opened the door fully, picked up the ground coffee and set off towards the canteen. ‘Come on slowcoach,’ she teased. Ash recovered her legs, blew out the breath that had been stolen from her, and followed Iman to the machine. ‘Do you want to come to my house for dinner on Friday?’ Iman asked, as she filled the machine with water and turned on the percolator.
Ash gulped with the sparks that ignited in her gut. ‘Ummm,’ she hesitated. Iman’s wide eyes caused another sensation, pricking at her chest. ‘Are your parents okay with that?’ she asked, swallowing hard. She hadn’t thought as far as meeting Iman’s parents. Even though she already knew Muhammad and Tarek, this was a whole different kind of meeting. Being an engineer was one thing, being a lover was something else. And, the thought was causing untold pain to shoot from her solar plexus into her chest, and mess with her brain. What if Iman’s Mum didn’t like her? What if Tarek thought wrongly of her? Or Muhammad? Jeez! She breathed deeply to control the trembling in her stomach and allowed her attention to drift to the gurgling coffee. She poured a large mug and added two sugars.
‘Are you okay? Iman asked with a concerned tone, watching Ash fluster. ‘They already respect you,’ she added, with a smile.
‘Uh huh,’ Ash said, trying to smile and instead grimacing.
‘They do. My sister’s excited to meet you too,’ Iman said, wincing slightly at her sister’s real motivation behind the meeting. ‘And if she asks you any personal questions, remember you don’t have to answer them,’ Iman confirmed. ‘She can be quite direct and excitable,’ she added.
‘Ah huh.’ Ash frowned.
‘She’s just curious,’ Iman clarified, the heat rising to her cheeks as she spoke.
Ash cleared her throat, but it didn’t stop her blushing. ‘Ah huh,’ she said again, sipping at the hot, bitter coffee and following Iman back through to the kitchen. ‘So, what do you want me to do?’ she asked, jumping at the chance to change the subject.
‘Put this on, and I’ll teach you to make bread,’ Iman said, reaching the apron around Ash’s waist, and pulling their bodies close. ‘You smell good,’ Iman whispered, biting down on her lip, her voice broken.
‘You’re gorgeous,’ Ash whispered back.
Iman crossed the cord behind Ash, brought it round to the front and tied it in a bow. ‘Bread,’ she said, smiling seductively.
‘Bread!’ Ash repeated, chuckling, waiting for the next instruction.
*
Zack stood tall. If he stretched up as far as he could, he would reach five-feet-seven-inches. The collar around his neck, while the ideal resting point for the sweat trickling down his neck in forty-degrees of heat, did nothing for his capacity to breathe. He fiddled his fingers, to create some space for his Adam's apple to move freely when he swallowed. That said, his mouth was dry, and his throat had constricted long before he had put on his shirt. He looked over his shoulder, brushed at the flicker of dust sitting on his dark blue jacket, and turned to face the door. His clenched fist focused on the front door; he swung forward. The door opened before he made contact, and the weight of the move threw him over the threshold and into the chest of Mr Dabah. He wasn’t smiling.
‘Mr Leighton, I take it.’ There was a softness to his bearded face that seemed to take the edge off his gruff voice.
‘Err, yes, sir,’ Zack mumbled, standing up again. He held out his hand. Dayoub nodded for Zack to follow him, ignoring the dangling limb.
Zack dropped his arm and walked a pace behind the stocky man, down a short dark hallway and into a room full of books. A solid wooden desk sat in the corner of the room, adjacent to the window, but otherwise, the room was dark and uninviting. Even the large patterned rug in front of the couch didn’t add to the ambience.
‘You wish to speak to me?’ Dayoub asked, taking the seat at the desk, and facing into the room. He glanced over at Zack, assessing him.
Zack stood to attention a few paces short of the desk. A trail of sweat was tickling its way down his back, but he daren’t move. ‘Umm, yes, sir.’ His voice was as determined and confident as he could make it, while his legs had taken on the texture of jelly, and his stomach churned. If it hadn’t been for Iman’s parents, he wouldn’t be here at all. He took in a deep breath and summoned his courage. ‘I would like to ask you for permission to marry Niomi, sir.’ The words had come out relatively well, not least because he had rehearsed the line at least fifty times on the short journey to the house.
Dayoub started coughing and continued to the point of near choking. Zack’s gut wrenched, and he moved to take a pace backwards. ‘Wait.’ Dayoub held his hand up, palm outwards, his other hand on his chest until he had finished spluttering into his handkerchief. ‘You want to marry my daughter?’ he confirmed.
‘Yes, I do sir. I will give her a good life… and I love her.’
Dayoub’s eyes bored into Zack, who instantly retracted physically. ‘You think she will not have a good life here?’ he asked.
‘I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean…’ Zack’s eyes searched for the words. ‘We will live wherever Niomi wants to live. I don’t intend to take her away from her family,’ he added.
‘So, you think she will not have a good life abroad?’ Dayoub’s eyes had softened, but his question caused Zack to flinch.
‘I don’t know, sir.’ His eyes lowered to the floor and were beginning to burn. ‘I love her, and she loves me,’ he said, in a softer tone.
‘Ah, good, so you have an honest heart,’ Dayoub responded, pulling a tissue from the box on his desk and handing it to Zack.
‘Thank you, sir.’ He wiped at his moist eyes and pocketed the tissue.
‘Muhammad tells me you are a promising young engineer,’ Dayoub said, fiddling with a piece of paper on his desk. ‘Do you promise to take good care of my daugh
ter too?’ he asked.
Zack’s bright eyes rose from the floor. ‘Yes, I will, forever, I promise.’
‘Good. I am an old man Zack, and I will not be around for a long time, and while I do not agree with these new ways, I am also too tired to fight this battle. I need to be sure that Niomi is with the man she loves and while I think Muhammad is too liberal with his son and daughters, he is well respected, and he highly recommended you as an honest man and potential husband.’
Zack’s mouth opened, and then closed again, and heat rushed into his cheeks.
‘If it is Niomi’s wish, then you have my blessing,’ he added.
Zack blinked. Had he heard the old man correctly? Dayoub looked up from his desk and smiled warmly. Zack beamed his widest grin. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘You may call me Dayoub,’ he responded.
‘Thank you, sir, Dayoub,’ Zack blurted, fidgeting his feet.
‘No, young Zack, I don’t think your Queen has bestowed that title upon me yet,’ he chuckled. He stood and took the two paces into Zack’s space. He held out his hand, and when Zack took it, he pulled him into an embrace, slapping him firmly on the back. ‘We had better go and let them know,’ he said, indicating towards the door.
Zack swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. He hadn’t thought that far!
26.
The soft click of the latch caused Ash’s head to rise from the kitchen sink, and her lips to curl upwards. She had hoped Iman would come by after work. A warm feeling in her chest, a smile on her face, and tingling in her stomach, she turned.
‘Ya wanna beer?’ Craig’s drawl killed the joyful sensation. Feeling exposed, she wrapped her arms tightly around her robed body. ‘Ya ‘ll right?’ he asked, eyeing her suspiciously, continuing on his path to the fridge. He pulled out two bottles and cracked them open.
Ash rubbed the heel of her hands into her eyes to clear the vision she had hoped would appear. ‘Yep.’ She took the offered drink and sipped, twiddling her feet and keeping one eye on the front door.
‘Ya expectin’ someone?’ he asked, an amused smile cutting across his face.
‘Yep,’ Ash responded, avoiding eye contact with him.
‘I thought ya might want t’ talk through our tactical plan for Saturday,’ he said, taking a long glug of the beer.
Ash turned and locked eyes with him, tilting her head to the side.
‘Really?’
He squirmed. ‘Well, and t’ check yer okay. Haven’t seen you for a couple days,’ he said, with genuine concern.
Ash allowed a smile to form. ‘I’m fine, honestly.’ She hadn’t deliberately been avoiding him, but with taking a short break from work at the base, there hadn’t been any reason to interact either. And, she had found better things to do with her time!
‘Iman?’ His crooked teeth jumped out of his mouth with the chuckle that followed.
Ash’s cheeks darkened. ‘She’s been teaching me to cook,’ she said, starting to laugh.
‘Is that what it’s called in Syria?’ he responded, his eyebrows rising.
‘Fuck off,’ she teased, slapping him firmly on the arm.
‘So yer full on then?’ he asked.
She held his eyes with her own, revealing the vulnerability she felt.
‘Shoot!’ he said, assessing her, but there was something else.
Ash’s eyes darkened, and she sipped at the beer in her hand. ‘I am worried,’ she admitted.
He dropped his eyes to the floor. ‘Uh huh.’ His tone was reflective, sombre even.
‘Did you hear about the two guys in Damascus?’ she asked. She hadn’t realised she was shaking until the rim of the bottle touched her lips.
Craig’s eyes rose to meet hers. ‘Yes,’ he said.
He never said yes, always yep, or uh huh, never yes. There was something deeply affirming about the word that revealed his concern for the situation. She nodded, sipped her beer, and averted his gaze.
‘What ya gonna do?’ he asked.
She sighed deeply and shrugged, sipped again, and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘I don’t know,’ she said softly, pressing against the stinging in her eyes. She wasn’t willing to face the obvious solution: the one that would break her heart irreparably. ‘Her parents are supportive,’ she added.
‘And worried for her safety,’ Craig reiterated.
Ash looked up and stared into his eyes.
‘Tarek,’ he confirmed. ‘We got t’ talkin’.’ He was trying to sound nonchalant, though his stomach churned as if he had been cheating on her, talking behind her back. ‘I’m worried too.’
‘Fuck!’ Ash’s heart dropped with a heavy thud. The reality needed to be faced. ‘Fuck, fuck!’ she moaned.
Craig took a pace forward and pulled her into his arms, his large hand clamping her head into his chest. The position was comforting, but it didn’t stop the searing pain in her chest or a tear from trying to form. He swept his hand lightly through her hair and kissed the top of her head. ‘There has to be a way,’ he whispered, as if to himself.
Ash pulled back, wiped the frustration from her eyes and studied his pensive gaze. ‘There is, and that is to leave Syria. But I don’t want Iman to feel she has to run away to be who she is.’
‘What ‘bout what she wants? Whether it’s ya she falls in love with or ‘nother woman, she should decide, don’t ya think?’
He had a point. Ash nodded. She pinched the bridge of her nose to stem the red mist from forming in her mind. ‘It’s so fucking insane,’ she blurted.
‘What is?’ Iman stood in the doorway to the kitchen, staring from Ash to Craig and back again. Ash avoided eye contact. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, with increasing apprehension, crossing the room and reaching for Ash’s arm.
Ash retracted a fraction.
Iman froze, a flash of something unpleasant gripping her chest.
Ash looked at Craig, who was frowning and sighed. She rubbed at her eyes, erasing the image of the minor rejection she had just inflicted. Reaching out, she pulled Iman into her shoulder. ‘Nothing’s wrong, it’s just work,’ she lied.
‘Ah huh, I’ll leave y’all to it,’ Craig said, downing his beer and leaving his bottle on the side.
Iman pulled out of Ash’s shoulder and cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at her. ‘Don’t lie to me,’ she said. There was no doubting the conviction in her voice. ‘Ash…’ She spoke the name slowly, sternly, her gaze unwavering.
Ash broke eye contact, put her arms around Iman’s waist and held her close. Iman’s hands rested lightly on her chest. ‘Two men were badly beaten today,’ she started. Iman tensed. ‘They were gay,’ she added.’ Iman shuddered.
She released one hand and pulled Iman’s head into her chest, fingering tenderly through her hair. ‘There is a real danger here Iman. People like us, we can get badly hurt, by people who are ignorant or frightened.’ Iman was breathing heavily, and the heat of her breath was causing Ash’s skin to tingle. When Iman pulled away and held her gaze, her breath hitched in her throat.
‘I love you.’ Iman’s fingers traced tenderly down Ash’s temple and around her ear, toying with the soft lobe, and then tracing down her neck.
Ash stared into the light-brown gaze. ‘I love you too,’ she said. ‘But what if it’s not safe for you… for us?’ she added.
Iman answered her with the touch of her mouth. The supple flesh enveloped Ash’s lips, slowly encouraging them to part, and her tongue gently explored, connecting them on a level beyond the physical realm. Iman’s fingers pulled at the belt around the bathrobe, and it slid to the floor. Her fingers traced down the small gap at the front, drawing the robe apart, and she pressed her body into the space. Her fingers traced up Ash’s side to the eager breast, and she flicked her thumb across the erect nipple.
Ash gasped and deepened the kiss, her hands pulling Iman’s head into her, devouring her.
Iman groaned at the sensation of Ash on her fingers and the bittersweet taste of the beer on her tong
ue.
Ash pulled back, her eyes dark, wild, all-consuming. She started to unbutton Iman’s dress, then stopped suddenly. She took her hand, walked to the front door and flicked the latch. She tested the handle to make sure it wouldn’t open, and walked Iman up the stairs and into the bedroom.
Iman intently watched, as Ash slowly discarded her robe to the floor, revealing her perfectly formed breasts, toned body, and her enticing sexual centre, pulling her in; captivating her. She stepped closer, feeling Ash’s heat invade her body and instruct the somersaults in her stomach.
Ash flipped Iman around and continued to unbutton her dress, unhooking the bra as she descended. She swept the long wavy hair to one side, kissed down Iman’s neck, and traced her tongue down her spine, eliciting goose bumps along the trail. She pulled off the unwanted clothing, lowering to the floor, revealing Iman’s soft bare flesh. Slowly she turned Iman back around, and taking in the sweet scent emanating from between her legs; she placed a tender kiss on her crotch. She moved her mouth across to Iman’s hip, up to her belly button, and then up towards her breasts. Rising to stand, she took the dark nipple into her mouth and started circling and flicking her tongue across the stiffening bud. She kissed up Iman’s neck, finding her mouth with an increased sense of urgency, encouraged by the guttural noises hitting her ears. Iman’s hands were pulling her closer, and as they touched along the full length of their bodies, she deepened the kiss, exploring, sensing. Iman’s fingers were tracing a line down her back, and cupping her tight ass. The feel of Iman’s crotch pressing directly to hers caused her mouth to part and her tongue to quiet. ‘Fuucckk!’ she groaned, diving back into the kiss and pulling Iman down onto the bed. As they crashed onto the mattress, Iman’s light-brown eyes opened. Ash’s heart stopped, her breath stolen by the intense brown eyes piercing her heart. Paralysed, she continued to stare.