by Ellen March
* * *
The evening of the party came swiftly. The marquee was erected and an assortment of cushions were scattered around for the guests’ comfort. Tall candles flickered, throwing shadowy flames across the floor. It was the exact image of a Bedouin sheik’s tent.
A bevy of giggling girls was thrust into a nearby tent to change, and Sally curiously wandered in. She was trying to keep her mind off the forthcoming event and wished she’d learn to shut her mouth. Since she’d mentioned she could belly dance, Antonia had teased her mercilessly, convinced she was going to make a fool of herself. Unfortunately, Sally was inclined to agree. She’d never had much in the way of confidence, and it only took a small tap to shake it down to its foundations.
“Oh my word, I don’t believe it!” Sally screamed when she saw the small, slim dark-haired girl. “Yasmin!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” She threw her arms around her friend and hugged her tightly. “I haven’t seen you since when …?”
“Too long!” sobbed Sally, kissing her cheek fondly. “Are you dancing tonight?”
“Of course! Myself and my girls. So what about you?” She stood back and stared at her. “You look amazing.”
“Well, actually, I’m the secretary. But Antonia, that’s the bitch that’s overseeing all this, has told me I’m to join you since I said I can belly dance.” She gave a shrug of her shoulders, but her smile faltered. “I wish I’d learn to shut my mouth.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Yasmin. “You can do it, you know you can. Remember the dance we did?”
“But that was years ago,” Sally protested, nervously chewing her lip.
“It’s like riding a bike, you never forget.” Yasmin walked around her friend, unable to believe the transformation.
“I never had a bike.” Sally blew out a ragged sigh and shook her head in despair, knowing she was going to mess up big time.
“In that case I think we’d better have a brief practice,” laughed Yasmin, loving Sally’s dry sense of humour.
* * *
“So who exactly is this woman you keep referring to?” Tariq asked curiously. He cricked his head. “And why is it you’ve turned down every one of the beautiful women I’ve fetched for you?”
They were both seated comfortably in the back of the Rolls Royce, speeding through the lanes towards Roman’s house.
“I haven’t. Sally’s my secretary, and when you see her you’ll realize not a man alive would fancy her,” he grinned good-naturedly. “And no offence, I know they were all stunning, I just didn’t feel like rising to the occasion.” His words belied his concern. He couldn’t work it out himself, much less explain it.
Tariq shook his head. “Well, that’s a first, my friend.”
Roman ignored his comment, only too aware of how strange it seemed, since he was unable to understand his own actions. Swiftly changing the subject, he said, “I’ve arranged a themed evening tonight. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” He flashed a sinful wink. “Let’s just say it will take you back to your roots!”
The electronic gates slid aside and the car rolled into the driveway.
* * *
Sally nervously gazed at herself in the large mirror, not believing the image that reflected back. A vision of veils and jewels, she stared in shock at the material straining across her barely-contained breasts. A glint of ruby sparkled from her belly button and the bottoms she wore rode low on her hips. She twisted them experimentally and watched her stomach undulate. The lessons she’d so thoroughly learned had come back to her as soon as Yasmin started practising with her.
Roman entered the house, shouting for Paul and Antonia. He noticed the conspicuous absence of Sally. The front area was full of cars and the backyard was a melee of people mingling and talking.
“Is everything in order?” he asked, wanting perfection in all the arrangements.
“Of course. Did you really expect anything less?” Antonia’s attention swayed towards the dark-haired man beside him, his rugged good looks almost equal to Roman’s, but not quite.
“Where is Sally?” He turned to Paul, needing to be reassured she was safe and not lying dead somewhere.
“Around here somewhere,” Paul replied evasively with a shrug of his shoulders. He was looking forward to the surprise.
Roman paused. “Come, I’ll show you to your room, then we can get on with the festivities.” He motioned to Tariq to follow him.
Roman returned to the marquee and was impressed with the décor. It was as if he had stepped back in time into a real Bedouin tent. The crowd of men that Antonia had invited were all well-respected business colleagues. Many things he could call her, but she definitely knew how to put together a party.
He sat cross-legged on the plush cushions while food was carried out by near-naked women reflecting the appetite of all—whether it was for food or sex. Then the music began and the first of the dancers appeared.
Roman smothered a yawn of disinterest at the dark-haired women with deep, almond eyes, their bodies writhing. They did nothing for him. He merely sat through the show, bored, trying not to show it to Tariq who appeared extremely interested. His thoughts returned to Sally. He wondered where she was, what she was doing. Had she missed him?
A short interlude followed the first dance.
A single woman entered. The whole tent fell silent and the sensation that shivered over him was electrifying. Slowly, she undulated her hips then shook them in a short, quivering motion. Turning on the spot, she leaned forward and shook her shoulders, her large breasts bouncing in their confines.
Roman could feel himself becoming aroused and was unable to understand his horny response. Until he connected with her eyes. Blazes of green stared back at him, fringed by masses of dark lashes.
Slowly she undulated towards him, shaking her hips and enticing him to remove a veil. With a quivering hand, he took it, then watched as she moved on. She encouraged other men to take a segment of the soft material, her long blonde hair flowing behind her. As each veil was removed her body was revealed until she stood in the middle of the dance floor almost naked. Her body gyrated wildly, her hips thrust out, breasts shuddering seductively. Finally she leaned forward and collapsed to the floor, her legs folded beneath and her back arched as she quivered and shook her shoulders.
Roman stared at her in lust and horror, wanting to snatch her body away from the admiring leers.
He glanced at Tariq. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. Roman recognised the intense, brooding look.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” Roman muttered as he rose to his feet, his gaze following her as she fled the room.
* * *
Sally had taken one look at Roman and sprinted from the tent, heading towards the sanctuary of her bedroom. She wasn’t taking the chance of Roman following her. Upon reaching the door, she slammed it shut and turned the lock, relieved she’d made it.
Within seconds Roman thundered up the stairs and hammered at her door. “Sally, open up.” He turned the handle and pushed at it.
“No.”
“Now!” he shouted, putting his shoulder against the door.
“I’m off duty so you can’t make me!” She prayed he’d go away. She leaned against the door and could feel the thud of his big body against it.
Roman was about to kick the door down when Tariq called up to him from the large hallway below.
“What are you doing, my friend? Come on, I want you to introduce me to that delectable dancer.” Tariq had followed him into the house and just managed to catch a glimpse of him disappearing up the stairs.
Roman slammed the door with his fist and whispered, “I’ll see you tomorrow, trust me.” Yet he was glad she was safe in her room. He didn’t trust Tariq and he definitely didn’t trust his temper where she was concerned.
Sally sighed with relief. When she had first seen the recognition in his eyes, she’d almost run away. Only the rhythmic music had kept her there, its hypnotic strumming leading
her into an almost trance-like state. Her heart still pounding, she pulled her outfit off and threw it to the floor. Lying back on her bed, she listened to the noise outside and eventually fell into a restless sleep.
* * *
An owl hooted close by, startling Sally awake. She listened to the silence. The party was over. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but she was no longer tired. Now she was just uncomfortably hot and sticky.
Standing and moving to the window, she pulled the drape back and was relieved to see that the cars had disappeared. The large moon hovered behind the adjacent window overlooking the pool. The water again beckoned her invitingly as creamy tendrils of light glinted on the water, rippling slightly in the night breeze.
After slipping on the scrap of a bikini, Sally pulled a towel around her body and opened the door. Peeping out, she checked the hallway and made sure it was empty before she quickly made her way downstairs towards the pool.
* * *
Roman tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He rose and paced fretfully around the bedroom, his mind firmly on Sally and her dance. He still couldn’t believe she was capable of those movements.
Nor could he believe the possessiveness he felt towards her. He’d wanted to snatch her up and cover her body, shield her from the men who were drooling over her. He opened his door and noticed that hers was slightly ajar, so he crossed the hallway and pushed at it. Her bed was empty. His stomach knotted as he wondered where the hell she was, or more to the point, who she was with.
Roman swore he’d kill her and whoever she was with. His blood boiled as he stormed downstairs. He knew he couldn’t go knocking on doors and that he needed to calm himself, so he decided a swim would cool him down.
Wearing a pair of boxer shorts that clung to his body, he stood on the patio breathing in the cool night air. Suddenly he heard the slight splash of water and saw Sally lying on her back, wearing next to nothing and floating around the pool.
Roman slipped quietly into the pool and swam towards her. Whether she’d heard him or simply sensed his presence, he didn’t know, but suddenly she turned and thrashed wildly as she tried to swim away.
Thrusting forward and slicing through the water, he caught her by the waist and pulled her easily to him.
“Let me go!” she hissed, struggling in his iron grip and wishing her heart would stop hammering erratically against her chest. His merest touch sent her into meltdown.
“No.” His hands strummed up and down her almost naked body. He felt himself responding, growing hard with need for her.
Placing a hand beneath her chin, he raised it before bending his head and kissing her lightly. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth, circling and tasting, as his hand massaged her breast. He flicked at her nipple and heard her moan beneath his lips.
Together they glided over to the side of the pool. He turned her round, placing her hands on the tiles, and ran his hands down her body. He pulled at her top, removing it so he could massage the tits he loved whilst thrusting against her. His erection hard and throbbing, he was leaving her in no doubt as to what he wanted.
Sally clung to the side, her head thrown back. She didn’t care that he’d dump her again the following day. Now was the moment and now she needed him. Pushing against his body, she felt her bottoms tugged away and heard the sound of his laboured breathing close to her ear.
He pushed between her legs and she opened them invitingly, arching her back and holding her breath. His hand pressed across her flat stomach to hold her tight against him as he pushed upwards. Impaling her, he thrust again and again, fast and furious. He thundered into her until he shuddered against her body.
“I want you, Sal.” He nuzzled her neck.
“For a night,” she replied with a whisper of sadness. But remembering Paul’s words, she was determined to show him she was in charge this time. “Make love to me, Roman.”
“I thought I just did.” His mouth dropped to her shoulder, his tongue sliding in a short, sharp lick.
She turned in his arms, facing him. “I didn’t come. I thought you could do better than that.” Her tongue flicked over his lips.
“Trust me, I can,” Roman snapped, annoyed at her criticism. He was determined to prove it even if she wasn’t able to walk after he’d finished with her.
* * *
Sally grinned as he carried her effortlessly up the stairs, naked beneath the towel he’d wrapped around her. “I can walk, you know.”
“You need to save your strength,” he muttered, his biceps bulging as he held her.
“Did you like my dancing?” Her tongue flicked out and licked the hollow of his throat. She chuckled at his intake of breath. One thing she’d discovered was that she was a keen pupil when it came to sex.
“Yes, too much. Where did you learn to dance like that?” He wondered if he’d like the answer.
“A friend of mine I grew up with. Well, sort of.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I had a lot of friends—or family, if you want to call them that—at one point in my life.”
Roman remembered what Paul had told him about Sally’s upbringing. When he reached his room, he dropped her lightly onto his bed and gazed with blatant admiration at her naked body. Her bikini had remained by the pool.
“You are so beautiful,” he said in a breathy voice as he peeled off his wet boxers and joined her.
“And you’re a good liar, but it’s better than being called ugly.” She held his face in her hands and stared into his dark, chocolate eyes.
“Sal, trust me. I’m not lying.” He kissed her eyelids then ran his tongue along her lips. “You taste so good.” Then he paused, confusion crossing his face. “Where are they?”
“What?” Wishing he’d stop talking, she ran a finger down his chest.
“Your braces.” Groaning, he was determined to make her scream as she came. He didn’t like the barbed insult she’d thrown at him down at the pool.
“Gone, along with my glasses.” She nuzzled his neck, nipping his ear lobe. “Make-over courtesy of Paul and your credit card.”
“Remind me to give him a raise,” he whispered.
“Speaking of which.” She pushed him back and slithered down his stomach, dotting a flurry of kisses on his skin. From his chest down to his naval and lower, she licked and nipped. Sally heard him suck in a shaky breath as she finally took him into her mouth. Her lips flowed over his crown and she licked experimentally before engulfing him entirely. His groans echoed around the room as she rocked her head back and forth. His hand grasped her hair as he tugged gently, pulling her back so he could toss her onto the bed.
He mounted her with a keen need. Unable to contain himself, he drove forward and wrapped her legs around his waist. He ground his hips against her, sinking balls deep.
Sally felt possessed. A film of perspiration covered her and she could feel her muscles clenching as he continued to ram deep inside. The slide of his tongue across her lips left her boneless. She arched against him, so wet and ready, searching for release. His hands scrambled across her breasts, greedily working them with his fingers, and she closed her eyes and whimpered loudly. A rash of white hot heat burst through her stomach. Her sex clenched him hard as she exploded with a fiery burst of pleasure. At the same time Roman climaxed again, shuddering into her.
Still holding her tight, he shifted his hips and collapsed against her. His body was covered in a sheen of perspiration, and he was unable to believe what he’d just experienced. Primal, carnal lust, so pure he shivered in the aftermath.
Sally lay across his body with her head on his chest, listening to the hammering of his heart. She dropped a kiss against the hollow of his neck and raised her head. “Have you missed me?”
A wrinkle of a grin formed over his lips. “No. Why should I?”
Sally’s smile was brief. Her green eyes were the colour of dark moss. “No reason at all.” His answer sealed what she was about to do. Still naked, she pulled herself out of his grasp and stood lo
oking down at him.
Roman frowned. “Where are you going?”
“Back to my own room. I got what I needed. You taught me a valuable lesson, Roman. I now realize I don’t need a relationship to have sex.” She walked at a leisurely pace towards the door, hoping she could carry this off. Paul’s advice was firmly imprinted in her head. “Good night.”
She closed the door behind her. When she heard Roman’s loud swearing, she sagged against the wall. Never in her wildest dreams had she believed she’d be able to do that to him.
Chapter Fifteen
Roman had tossed and turned all night. Her words kept returning to him. He couldn’t accept that she could make love to him and walk away. Never mind it was something he did all the time. He had missed her, he realized, but he wouldn’t admit it. He wondered how he was going to sort out this emotional tangle.
Tariq was already at the breakfast bar in the kitchen when Roman came down, his dark head bent in deep discussion with Paul.
“Morning.” Paul spared him a brief glance, but his gaze never wavered far from Tariq. He was drowning in the man’s sultry looks and black eyes, so full of mid-eastern promise. He wondered if he could change him. What a waste to mankind! Paul sighed with regret.
Roman tried not to laugh. “Did you enjoy last night?” he asked Tariq as he poured a coffee.
“Definitely, but I wish I’d met that blonde dancer. I think I could make her hips move a lot faster than that.” Tariq gave him a wink.
Roman deliberately turned his head. The thought of anyone else with Sally made him feel physically sick. He was experiencing a build-up of rage. It was consuming him, and he couldn’t even begin to understand it.
Paul watched the interaction with interest and decided to pour oil on the flames. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get to meet her. It was Sally. She’s Roman’s secretary.” He noted the outrage on Roman’s face and tried to scupper a grin.
