My Insatiable Sheikh: Hired Pregnancy and College Bully Romance (The Instalove Series Book 1)

by Marian Tee

  Since I didn't want the sheikh sniffing too close to the truth, and he was not as stupid as I wished he was, I quickly came up with the first lie I could think of. "It's your...name."

  His brows pleated. "So we are back to that again. It truly bothers you, not knowing my name?"

  "Uh...fuck yeah?" The fact that he actually sounded surprised nearly made me laugh. Sheesh. What kind of women had this guy been dating that he really thought withholding his name would be in any way acceptable?

  "You must not take it personally," he said finally. "It is simply a precaution required by the...organization I'm a part of."

  Shit.

  That could only mean one thing.

  He really was a fucking crook, and yes, I am aware that some girls think it would be all kinds of sexy to date someone whose family was featured in Narcos. And that's fine. No judgment. We all have our own favorite ice cream flavors, and it just so happened that those girls liked theirs mixed with bits of blowfish, just to spice things up. Nothing more exciting than knowing there was a one percent chance your next spoonful could poison you, right?

  Me, however...

  I just wanted my ice cream nice and regular, and honestly, with all the Dahlia-related trauma that I had yet to recover from, even something as basic as butter pecan or cookies and cream even felt too adventurous.

  I just wanted to go vanilla all the way, and this sheikh?

  Everything about him screamed trouble and danger that if he were an ice cream flavor, he wouldn't even be on the fucking menu. Wouldn't even manage to get certified by the FDA, probably. He was that kind of bad news...and it was just my luck that I ended up on his radar.

  "What about yours, Ms. Teller?"

  The question threw me off, and I frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "I never actually asked for your first name from the lawyers—-"

  "Asshole."

  "I never thought I'd care enough to know."

  "God, you really are such a fucking asshole."

  But because he was an asshole, I might as well have been insulting him in Kiswashili, with the way none of them even managing to leave the tiniest scratch on his bullet-proof ego.

  "Well, Ms. Teller?"

  Knowing that this was yet another thing that was pointless to withhold, I said reluctantly, "Story."

  And then I started counting.

  One...two...three...

  The sheikh threw his head back with a laugh.

  99.9% of the time, that was the reaction I would get, every time people found out what my name was.

  "Your parents named you Story...Teller?"

  Feeling defensive on my dad's behalf, I almost slipped up about Dahlia having it worse before her name change but was saved from doing so when the waiters came back to serve us coffee.

  Phew.

  When we were alone again, I didn't give him a chance to pick up where we left off and instead changed the subject right away, asking, "Why do you have to do this?"

  "Fucking you?"

  My teeth gnashed as I counted to three.

  "And filling your womb with my cum?"

  I went on counting to ten...twenty...but when I saw him smirking, I simply couldn't take it anymore. I took a deep breath, prepared to give him a good mouthful...but instead I found the wind knocked out of my sails when he suddenly spoke.

  "I think I've forgotten to inform you, habibti. The apartment I've arranged for your use is ready, and I'll need you to move in within the week."

  I nearly ended up throwing my cup of coffee at his face. "Excuse me?"

  He took the coffee cup out of my hands before answering, and wisely so, since his next words were pretty much designed to have me blow my top. "I'm working on a very tight deadline. It's imperative that you bear my child as soon as possible."

  Deadline?

  He needed to knock me up fast...because of a fucking DEADLINE?

  My hand was up before I could think about what I was doing, and I would've slapped his face in the next moment if he hadn't caught my wrist in time. I saw the gleam in his gaze and realized right away that he had been expecting me to try and hurt him...because he had been goading me.

  YEARGH!

  "No wonder you need to pay someone to bear your kid," I raged. "Are you so fucking bored that you only get a kick out of degrading—-"

  "It's only with you," he interrupted silkily, "that I'm like this."

  "Fuck you." I tried yanking my hand out of his hold, but it was just impossible.

  "I can't stop thinking how angry sex with you would be amazing—-"

  "God, you're such an ass!" I made another attempt to free my right hand out of his grip, but when this failed, and I was still seeing red—-

  Clomp!

  I saw him wince as my kitten-heeled shoe landed hard on his foot, but my success was short-lived. I didn't even have time to crow or snicker, and the only warning I had was his dark eyes glinting as he purred, "You will love paying for that, my Story."

  Did he just say I was going to love—-AAH!

  The good news: he finally let go of my right hand.

  The bad news: he only did so...in order to put his hand under my dress.

  My back shot up in an instant, and as heat flared in my cheeks, I literally felt feverish and dizzy for a second, just thinking about the fact that his hand was against my bare thigh under my dress, his thumb dangerously close to the edge of my underwear, while we...were...in...PUBLIC!

  "Get your hand off my body, damn you." I was careful to keep my voice low despite my anger and mortification. The restaurant was dimly lit, sure, but with those incandescent strobe lights passing by our table every so often, it would only take one instance, just one fucking instance for the couple seated on my right to glance our way while the lights were on us—-

  And then I felt it, his fingers crawling up—-

  What the fuck?

  My horrified gaze flew up to his, and dark eyes glittered back at me. "Tell me, habibti," he invited silkily. "Do you think I shall find your pussy all soft and wet?"

  Before I could even think of jerking away, his fingers had already reached my most secret part—-

  Aaaaaaah.

  I barely managed to stifle my gasp as his fingers stroked my swollen folds, and I could feel myself drowning in a mixture of shame and pleasure as I felt myself growing wet...until the thin barrier of cotton that separated his fingers from my flesh became completely drenched.

  Stroke.

  Stroke.

  Stroke.

  A sensual jolt electrified my body every time his fingers caressed my quivering folds, and I found myself gripping the edges of the table. "Stop it—-"

  But this only made the asshole exert just a bit more pressure with his strokes, to the point that it was almost as if he was kneading my pussy, and oh God, it was all I could do not to cry out as the pleasure grew tenfold.

  "I'm a man of my word, habibti," he said gently. "I told you that you'd enjoy paying for your little act of rebellion, did I not?"

  "Fuck you." The words were out before I could stop myself, and when I saw his nostrils flare...fuck, fuck, fuck! I had forgotten what he had said earlier. Making me mad was his ultimate turn-on, and before I could take the words back, it was too late—-

  His other arm had wrapped around me, his fingers splaying behind my bare back as he pulled me close, and oh God, even this most basic of touches was too much now, and I could feel my senses reeling out of control.

  I tried to struggle one last time, but he was too strong, and I found myself holding my breath, preparing myself for the moment he'd kiss me and all would be lost.

  Any moment now...

  Oh God...

  And then...

  He twisted me around in the last second, and a startled gasp escaped me when I suddenly found myself facing the couple at the other table, my back pressed against his chest. His fingers slid inside my panties just as his breath caressed my ear.

  "Don't say I didn't warn you."
>
  And then his head was dipping low, his lips closing over the frantically beating pulse in my neck—-

  Oh God.

  The strobe lights passed our table, illuminating our faces for a fraction of time...just as the woman seated only a few feet away absently glanced at our direction.

  Oh God.

  The strobe lights moved to the woman's table, this time illuminating the look of shock on her face as she took on the sight of the SOB sucking on my neck like a bloody vampire while he continued to work on my pussy under my dress.

  "Someone's seen us, you ass—-"

  But this only had him chuckling against my skin. "Even better." The movement of his fingers started to quicken. "You'll come faster that way."

  What?

  No!

  But by then it was too late.

  The way he was sucking on my neck...and the way he was stroking my flesh...all the while feeling the other woman gaping at me...

  Oh God, oh God.

  I squeezed my eyes shut in a last-ditch effort to stay in control, but it was just too much. Everything was too new, and he was just too good.

  Oh Gooooooooooooooooood.

  The whole world seemed to spin out of control as I felt myself start to orgasm, and I couldn't even think of resisting as he pulled me harder against him. It was strange and addictive, this feeling of having something thick and creamy gush out of me and coating his fingers...and as the shudders marginally faded, and I felt him carefully withdraw his fingers—-

  My eyes drifted open when I felt him lift his head, and that was when I heard it: the sound of him licking my cum of his fingers, right next to my ear. My brain kinda short-circuited after that, and I found myself dizzily submitting to his commands.

  When he told me to open my legs, I did so without question, and I could only squeeze my eyes shut once again as I felt him clean me under my dress with his handkerchief. I heard the woman from the other table mutter 'unbelievable' under her breath, and I was torn between shame and resignation.

  She probably thought I was a slut, and I couldn't exactly blame her, could I?

  "All done, habibti." The sheikh smoothed my dress down as he spoke, and I let him hold my hand and help me down the bar bench.

  As we walked past the other table, I couldn't help glancing at the woman's direction, couldn't help wondering if I'd catch her sneering at me...but what I saw instead was her staring at me...with envy.

  "Unbelievable." My turn to say it under my breath, and it wasn't even because I was mocking her or anything.

  The sheikh glanced down at me. "What's unbelievable?"

  Before I could answer, someone had called my name out, and the voice was terribly familiar.

  "Story?"

  Oh no.

  "Is that you?"

  Anyone but her, dammit.

  "Stop pretending you didn't hear me. I know it's you, Story."

  The teasing note in the woman's voice had me biting back a groan, and when the sheikh was about to turn us both around to face her, I quickly latched on to his arm. "No, don't. Ignore her—-"

  But it was already too late.

  My club advisor was already tapping me on the shoulder. "There's no point hiding, you guys."

  You...guys?

  "Damen said I was mistaken, but I recognized you two the moment we came in."

  The sheikh stiffened, and so did I.

  A second later, and both of us had turned sharply to face each other, and the incredulous question in his gaze pretty much mirrored mine.

  You know Mairi Tanner-Leventis?

  Hey...it's me, Johnny.

  I need to talk to you. I'll call you tonight at ten?

  Message received at 0641h from an unidentified number

  Chapter Three

  "You can drop me here." I half-expected the sheikh to ignore my words just because, but he actually did as asked, and in moments his black SUV was parked by the curb and just a short distance away from my dorm.

  I turned to him then, my conscience not letting me leave until I had the words out. "So...um...thank you." I fought against the urge to throw up and forced myself to continue. "You could've embarrassed me back there, but you didn't." Gaaah. This was so hard. "So...thank you." And with that I was done, thank fuck.

  "I'm sorry."

  He was?

  "I didn't quite get that," the sheikh drawled. "Could you say it all again, and possibly with a bit more groveling—-"

  "Fuck you, seriously. Fuck you."

  But of course the SOB only laughed, impervious as always to all insults. "Your gratitude is unnecessary, Ms. Teller. I only said nothing because it also suited me to let Damen's wife draw her own conclusions. She's a good woman, but it's best not to have her involved in our business."

  "How do you know those two?" I tried to sound all casual as I asked this, but the way his gaze bored through me made it obvious he was aware of my ulterior motives.

  "If you're thinking of using either of them to find out who I am," he said dryly, "you can kiss that thought goodbye. Damen is honor-bound to keep my identity a secret, and as for your professor, she simply knows me as "sheikh" as well." His lips twitched when he saw me shoot a dubious look at his direction. "You may ask them if you wish," he offered. "I only hoped to save you from some embarrassment."

  I couldn't help bristling at his words. "What do I have to be embarrassed about?"

  "Apologies," he said at once. "I had assumed you'd find it embarrassing if your professor finds out you are not in possession of the name of the guy you're fucking—-"

  Yeargh!

  I got out of the car without another word and slammed the door as hard as I could. Asshole. Jerk. Bastard. But even as I called him all sorts of names as I angrily strode off, I couldn't help wondering once again...would he or wouldn't he?

  I had my answer when I reached the front steps of my dorm, and I heard his car race away.

  He wouldn't waste time coming after me, and I hated myself for even caring if he did or didn't.

  My phone started ringing when I made it to my room, and in spite of all of the crazy things that had happened, I couldn't keep my heart from doing a mini backflip when I saw the caller's name flashing on the display screen.

  I cleared my throat before answering the call. "Hey."

  "Hey."

  Johnny's voice was just as I remembered: warm and friendly, with just a hint of gentleness that never failed to make me feel feminine. The sound of it transported me back to the day we first "met", and the memory made me smile.

  It had been months after Dahlia's single-handed demolition of my previously ordinary but happy existence, and I had been miserable as fuck.

  None of my friends were still talking to me, and photos of my name being immortalized on the walls of the boys' locker room as the girl to call for blowjobs had made the rounds on social media.

  If I could've talked to Greg about it, then my trauma might not have lasted as long as it did. But since I also had to keep everything a secret from my dad, the pain and anger just seemed to pile up inside of me until I felt like I was a pressure cooker about to burst.

  But because I had always been the practical sort, I also knew that letting my rage consume me wouldn't benefit anyone. To "fix" myself, I had taken advantage of toll-free helplines that offered phone counseling, volunteered for community service to remind myself that other people still had it worse than me, and afterwards, when I earned my first paycheck from my part-time job, I had also decided to invest in a portable Nintendo gaming console and started playing Animal Crossing: New Leaf.

  And honestly?

  Even after all these years, I'd say that was still one of the best decisions of my life. There was just something about the game that calmed the fuck out of me, and I had enjoyed it so much that I started for looking online for other players to connect to.

  The way this game worked, you were a mayor of your own town, which you could build and design as you wished. You could also visit other player
s' towns, and it was through one of these visits that I ended up "meeting" Johnny.

  I had been seventeen by then, and Johnny two years older, and at the start, we had just been friendly with each other, exchanging messages online. It was only when he knew I had turned eighteen that he asked if we could meet up in real life, and although I had never said yes to this, I did eventually trust him enough to exchange photos and tell him the truth about myself.

  Shitty stuff went down in high school because of my evil identical twin that no one knew about, and now I'm just this total loner, with zero social media presence and sub-zero interest in having guy friends in real life, because who knew when Dahlia would strike again?

  Since the words sounded completely bogus even to my own ears, a part of me had been resigned to having Johnny think I was this loser making up lies for no reason. But instead...he had believed me. Even more, he respected my decision not to meet up, and we had remained sort of friends after that.

  Sort of being the operative word because...sometimes, there would be this silence between us, and every time it happened, I found myself wondering, what if...what if...

  "I wanted to be the first one to tell you," Johnny said nervously. "I'm, um...Dahlia and I...we're together now."

  What if...I just solve all of my problems by killing my twin?

  Dear Ms. Teller,

  We are sorry to say that Sec. IX Rule 7 of Contract RE-058-ST specifically prohibits the release of any video material pertaining to the nature of your employment. Your request for a copy of the transcript of the interview, however, has been approved by the employer and the file of which is attached below.

  We hope that this document may be of assistance, and please do not hesitate to contact our firm if you have any other concerns.

  Sincerely,

  Al-Dimashqi & Ghazali LLC

  Interviewee: (Name Redacted, Code: 058)

  Age 22, Female, Resident of Miami, Florida

  Interviewer: Representative of Al-Dimashqi & Ghazali LLC, Code: LLC

  Date: (Redacted)

  Place: (Redacted)

  Duration: (Redacted)