Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015

by Melinda Curtis

  She crossed her arms, lifted her chin, pressed her lips together. “Now you’re just trying to annoy me.”

  He glanced at her body language. “And succeeding.”

  In spite of her irritation with him, Becca was fascinated by the activity in the city. Since it was late afternoon, the traffic was heavy. Pedestrians walked along the sides of the road, some with purpose as if hurrying to catch a bus, others strolling as if out for their morning walk. People carried merchandise on their heads or on their shoulders. One man had a huge mesh bag of plastic pots slung over his shoulder. Another had six foam mattresses folded in half and stacked atop his head. Many of the men were dressed Western-style in slacks and shirts, but most of the women wore long dresses made of beautiful cotton fabrics, many with matching headdresses of the same fabric.

  “Why do some women wear headdresses and others don’t?”

  “Married women wear them.”

  “These are the most beautifully dressed people I have ever seen.”

  He cast her an approving glance. “It’s a point of pride. They buy the fabric at the market and take it to a tailor who makes it to their specifications.”

  “I have got to go shopping,” she said, making him grin.

  On the road itself, there was every imaginable kind of traffic, from new, shiny cars, to old beat-up taxis, energy-efficient buses to brightly-painted, smoke-belching mini-buses. Becca laughed aloud at the incongruous sight of a horse-drawn, two-wheeled cart before them. It was stacked, four high, with cases of bottled Coca Cola.

  When they reached the Isbaharian consulate, Aaron parked on the crowded street. Apparently remembering his manners this time, he opened the car door for her and ushered her inside the building.

  As soon as they stepped inside, Aaron paused, his gaze darting around the room. His arm came out to stop her, sweeping her behind him.

  “What on earth . . . ?” She peeked from behind him, seeing nothing to be alarmed about. A young woman sat at a desk, using a desktop computer that was probably older than she was. A man sat at another desk, sifting through a stack of papers. Both people looked up when Becca and Aaron entered. The man rose and approached the counter that ran the width of the room.

  “Follow my lead, Rebecca,” Aaron commanded, stepping forward.

  “What else am I going to do?” she muttered.

  Aaron produced his passport, introduced himself and apparently stated their business, then had Becca hand over her passport, too. The man studied the documents, held them up to the light, turned them this way and that, lifted them to compare to the faces of their owners, then laid them down. He then made a phone call, talking quietly and casting furtive looks at them. Finally, he took out two forms and filled them out, talking all the while in a very firm tone. With a flourish, he handed over the papers and the passports, and opened the door to speed them on their way, but not before he gave them one final admonition of some sort.

  Once they were back on the crowded sidewalk, Becca stared at the closed door, blinked, and looked up at Aaron.

  “What was that all about?”

  “I don’t know. That office is usually crowded to the rafters with employees – six people doing one job.”

  “So some of them are on vacation.”

  “They don’t get vacations – regular days off, maybe, religious holidays, but not vacations, and not all at once. Something’s going on.”

  “And you sensed something was wrong? Is that why you jumped in front of me as if you were going to take a bullet for me?” She clapped her mouth shut. She had no idea where that suggestion had come from.

  “Yes, I sensed something was wrong.” Apparently, deep in thought, he opened the car door for her, waited for her to get settled, and then slammed it shut.

  Becca fastened her seatbelt. “What was that man saying while he was filling out the forms?”

  “That we have to stick to the main roads, we can’t deviate from our stated plan, we can’t wander around on our own.”

  “So they’re giving us a guide of some kind?”

  “No.” Aaron started the engine. “Which is what makes this so strange.”

  He didn’t say much, concentrating on his driving. The traffic was much more dense, though, and at one point, he said, “We’re going to have to take a different route home. There must be a traffic tie-up ahead.”

  He turned swiftly and took them down a narrow alley, coming out into an open area that held a large corrugated tin pavilion over what looked like an ancient ruin.

  Becca, the history teacher, sat up straight. “Aaron, what is that?”

  “The ruins of an ancient temple.”

  “Oh, can we stop? Please?”

  He slowed to a crawl, then pulled to the side of the road. “Becca, it’s getting late.”

  “What’s the matter? Have you got a hot date?” She didn’t know where that snarky question came from.

  “They’ll be closing soon.”

  “You’re the minister of tourism, as you keep pointing out to me. Can’t you ask them to stay open a little later?”

  He released a frustrated breath. “This isn’t the type of temple you think it is.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “How could I possibly know if I don’t see it? I can’t guess what kind of temple it is. It’s open to the public, so it must be something interesting, culturally important to your people. Besides, it would be silly for me to waste the opportunity to see some of the historical and cultural sites while I’m here. Who knows if I’ll ever be in Côte de Diamant again.”

  “That’s true, because you won’t have another sister to come and find, will you?”

  She ignored that and gave him a winning smile. “Please?”

  His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile but was fighting it. He lifted his hands away from the steering wheel, absolving himself of guilt. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Delighted that she’d gotten her own way – twice in one day – she said, “Thank you. When I tell my students all about this, I’ll be sure to say you’re responsible for me having seen it.”

  “Leave me out of it,” he advised. “I don’t want any irate parents coming to hunt me down.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “When did you turn into such a serious buzz kill, Aaron?”

  “The minute you walked into my office.” Aaron pulled the Jaguar up before the pavilion and they got out.

  He spoke to a young man at the entrance, who bowed when Aaron identified himself, and waved them inside.

  Eagerly, Becca looked around. “I wish I had a camera with me.”

  “No need to worry. What you’re going to see will be permanently etched in your mind.”

  “Oh, good.”

  He swallowed a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

  She couldn’t imagine why he was being so annoying, but she decided to ignore him and concentrate on what could very well be her only visit to a cultural site while she was in Côte de Diamant.

  “Will you be my tour guide?” she asked brightly, willing to forgive him for his reluctance.

  “With the greatest pleasure.”

  She didn’t exactly like the way he said the word ‘pleasure’, but she decided to let him get away with it.

  “The temple is made of sandstone and at one time was covered with crushed white granite.”

  “Like the pyramids?”

  “Exactly, and close to the same age as the newest of the pyramids.”

  She tried to imagine what it must have looked like, shining in the African sun, important and mesmerizing. Now the outside looked very sad with the granite completely worn away and many of the blocks broken or missing.

  To her unspoken question, Aaron said, “People hauled away much of the structure to use for building their homes. There are parts of it scattered all around this area.”

  “I can imagine.” She loosened the scarf around her neck and repositioned it over her head, aware that she was entering a te
mple and not wanting to give offense, even to ancient gods.

  Again the choking cough. What was with him, anyway?

  “The inside is either still intact, or has been restored, however. The pavilion keeps it from eroding quite so much in the heat, wind, and weather.” He took her arm, and ushered her inside.

  There was another entrance inside the first, a tall, narrow archway with a bulbous projection at the top that looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t decide what the shape was.

  Becca was suddenly very aware of Aaron’s touch, the heat burning through the cotton of her blouse. She tried to pull away.

  “I’d better hold onto you, Rebecca. In case you feel faint,” he said as they stepped through the entrance.

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never fainted in my . . . Ooooh,” she finished on a gasp.

  Her mouth dropped open as she looked around at the beautiful mosaics on the walls. They were separated into panels and at first, she was so dazzled by the colors and craftsmanship, she didn’t notice the theme. When she realized what it was, heat washed into her face and her heart bounced up into her throat.

  She glanced back at the archway they’d stepped through. She knew exactly what that shape was now.

  “Aaron, is this a temple to the gods of . . . erotica?”

  ~*~

  “I tried to warn you,” Aaron said, knowing he could have tried harder. “But you’re right, this is part of our culture and we’ve always been a very . . . creative people.”

  “Not to mention spectacularly double-jointed,” she responded in a strangled voice. “Kama Sutra, eat your heart out.”

  He laughed, adoring the color that was turning her face bright red. She pulled her scarf down a little lower in the front and up around her cheeks to try and disguise her reaction, but he knew what was going on in her mind.

  Aaron looked around, admiring the excellent restoration work, and the subject of the mosaics. “My friends and I sneaked in here when I was sixteen. It was quite a revelation.”

  “I’m surprised you weren’t struck blind.”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets, tilted back on his heels, tucked his tongue into his cheek. Oh, he was enjoying this. “There’s actually a progression in the mosaics. Let me show you.”

  He took her arm, unresisting this time, and stood before the first panel. “This one is pretty innocuous.”

  “Kissing,” she said, relieved.

  “That’s how it usually starts,” he said, remembering what they’d been doing earlier that day. He wasn’t exactly proud of that episode, and he couldn’t have said why he’d reacted the way he had, but he wasn’t going to dissect it now. He had something much more enjoyable on his mind – and in his pants, he thought as he felt his erection stir.

  As if she couldn’t help herself, she stepped to the next panel. The same couple as before were now naked, their mouths still joined, their hands exploring each other. “Caressing,” she said and cleared her throat.

  “You could call it that.”

  Her hand flew up. “Don’t tell me what you call it.”

  She moved on and he followed. He wondered if she knew how transfixed her face was as she went to the next panel. Her hand had dropped to her side and he took it in his own, intertwining their fingers. She was too enthralled to notice.

  In this panel, the man had his mouth on the woman’s breast, his hand between her legs. The woman was no slouch, either. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy and her hand was wrapped around his outsized penis.

  Becca’s fingers tightened. “He’s certainly . . . well-endowed.”

  “Hung,” he supplied, startling a laugh out of her.

  The next panel showed the man seated with the woman straddling his lap. Their faces were ecstatic. Aaron wasn’t sure how the original artists and the restorers had achieved that effect considering they’d been using tiny bits of colored stone and tile, but it was obvious this couple were in the throes of passion. He turned slightly so he could see Becca’s face. Her expression mirrored the woman’s, and the one she’d worn earlier that day when his mouth had been on her breast and her hands had been in his hair, holding him there, begging for satisfaction.

  He thought this was probably what the artists had intended – bless their sex-obsessed souls.

  After that, each panel was different, with the couple portrayed in every possible position.

  Becca stood before one in which the couple was entwined in a particularly pretzel-like manner. She turned her head one way and then the other, then she looked at him. “I defy you to tell me how that is humanly possible.”

  She stepped to the last panel. The couple must have achieved satisfaction after all that athletic activity. They lay side by side, their arms around each other, obviously sated.

  Becca released a mighty breath and touched the back of her hand to her cheek.

  He couldn’t resist. He pulled her toward him, closed his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply, his tongue finding the place, just at the roof of her mouth that he’d found earlier and which he knew would make her groan with pleasure. She was as ready for him as she had been earlier, only moreso because now she had these images in her head. He was eternally grateful. If he were a religious man, he’d bring in a sacrifice to these particular gods.

  Becca wound her arms around his neck, dove her hands into his hair, returning his ravaging kisses with ones of her own. He bumped his erection against her, knowing that if he touched her she would be ready for him. He could free himself, lift her up, take her hard and fast against one of these mosaics, use it as a background as well as a pattern for lovemaking.

  But he couldn’t do that. Not here, not where the guard at the front might come in and find them. Some spark of sanity kindled itself in his mind. He jerked away, clenched his eyes shut, and ground his forehead against hers. With the ultimate force of will, he got his desire for her under control.

  “Rebecca.” He couldn’t control his voice which shook with his need.

  She lifted her head away from his and blinked as if she’d stepped into bright light. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen.

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m not immune to this place. We’ve got to stop or I’ll take you right here, right now.”

  She stared at him and he watched emotions chase each other across her face – need, desire, confusion.

  “When I make love to you, I don’t want you to have any regrets.” His gaze swept the room. “I don’t want it to be triggered by suggestion.”

  She stared at him for a minute, her blue eyes clouded. Then she seemed to make a decision. Her eyes cleared, and she smiled shakily.

  “I think we’re done here. Thank you for showing it to me.” Her response was thready, but she cleared her throat. She straightened her head scarf. He could see her gaining strength, scrambling for dignity. “I know it’s a cliché, and I don’t even smoke, but I could use a cigarette right now.”

  ~*~

  Becca’s brain was officially on fire, as was the rest of her body from the inside out. Even though she tried to maintain some kind of dignity as they left the temple, she was lost, hot through and through. She was aroused to the point of insanity, as she had never been before. Not ever.

  Well, that wasn’t quite true. She’d been that hot and ready earlier that day, the first time Aaron had kissed her.

  As they left the temple, she pulled her scarf more closely around her face, sure the guard was leering at them.

  “He’s used to it,” Aaron said, observing her. “Most people have the same reaction.”

  “You mean the ones who are still conscious? There ought to be a sign out front warning people.”

  “What would be the fun in that?” he asked reasonably as he opened the door for her. “Children, even teenagers aren’t allowed inside, but the temple receives many adult visitors. After all, it’s part of our ancient culture.”

  “I’m surprised the population of Côte de Diamant isn’t bigger, with
people procreating like that.”

  “We’re in the desert, remember? Our environment can’t support a big population. We’re huge believers in condoms.” He slammed the door and trotted around to his own side.

  She couldn’t think of a reply to that so she didn’t say anything else and remained quiet through dinner and the rest of the evening. His mother and nephew gave her puzzled looks, but apparently put her reticence down to lingering exhaustion from her trip.

  To her own surprise, Becca found that she was famished. She had two helpings of everything at dinner even though she had very little idea what it was. She looked up more than once to see Aaron watching her with a look of smug satisfaction.

  His nephew, Musa, was obsessed with American television shows, especially the kind that pitted teams or individual against each other. Becca had seen a few of those so they had something to talk about. It was more relaxing and fun than she would have expected it to be.

  Before she went to bed, Aaron pulled her aside, and said, “Be ready by six in the morning. I want to get an early start. I’ll get the servants to help me pack the Range Rover tonight. We’ll have to carry all of our own food and water, so pack light, only the essentials.”

  “Yes, absolutely.” She nodded vigorously, thrilled beyond words to be included in the search for her sister.

  “And Rebecca?”

  “Yes?” Something in his tone had her looking at him cautiously.

  “I’m going to tell my mother about Jennifer.”

  Becca swallowed and nodded. “About her miraculous emergence from the grave?”

  One corner of Aaron’s mouth tilted up. “Yes. We’ll bring Jennifer back here with us and my mother has the right to know since this is her home.”

  “Of course.” Becca frowned. In truth, that wasn’t her biggest worry. She was concerned about what Jenny would say when they found her and Becca had to admit what she had done so long ago. Would it deepen the chasm between them, or begin some healing? One thing was certain, Becca knew she couldn’t ask her sister who her lover had been. That would only bring up even more painful memories, and really, what did it matter now?