The Sheikh's Surprise Mistress (Jatar Sheikh Series Book 5)

by Jessica Brooke

  I was never asked what I wanted—Omar waved his hand and set a raft of waiters and sommeliers into a frenzy of action. I sipped at the wine set before me and then gazed over at Amir. His smoldering regard was on me, but he still felt off to me—nothing like that first glance when we arrived. I suddenly wondered if I’d angered him in some way. Soon, he and Omar were talking, and within moments I felt invisible—or worse, ignored.

  Then I reminded myself I couldn’t continue an affair with him, and it was better if I shut down the slow simmer I’d felt when his golden eyes roamed over my body. I did try to shut it down, but it wasn’t working, and the longer he ignored me, the more furious I became. Well, correction, furious and then confused, and by the time the entrée arrived, I felt like crying again. Amir still hadn’t looked at me or acknowledged I was sitting just a few feet away.

  I pecked at the scrumptious meal, thinking I should have been stuffing my face, but I couldn’t shake the feeling as if I’d just lost my closest friend.

  Knock it off, you idiot! You hardly know him. Like, you don’t know him. Not at all. He must have decided I was right, and that we aren’t good for each other.

  As the meal went on, I became more and more despondent, and I began asking for refills on the wine. When I quietly excused myself to stagger to the ladies’ room, I felt as if I could disappear and no one would notice. I freshened up and didn’t immediately go to our table. Instead, I wandered to the outside viewing area and leaned against the railing, taking in the briny air of the nearby ocean. Again I felt like crying, and I couldn’t shake it. The odd part is that I am not a crier—in fact, I just don’t—EVER!

  Amir’s deep, masculine voice startled me, “Why did you leave?”

  My tone was way too flippant. “I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

  “Ahhh, I see.”

  “What Amir? What do you see?” I snapped.

  He leaned on an elbow near me, but at a respectable distance.

  “You seek to have it both ways. You wish to have my undying admiration and lust, but you, female, will not reciprocate. Was it not you that said what we shared was nothing more than a—thing?”

  I felt my chin quiver. I couldn’t really argue with him. I had said that. “Yeah, but…”

  His masculine chuckle was telling, “You amuse me, American.”

  “How so?” I asked with a chin tilt of defiance.

  “You wish for me to hunt you. To chase you.” He lifted his glass and sipped at the golden liquid inside. His eyes found mine over the rim, and I stifled a gasp at how powerfully he affected me.

  “I will not chase you, Julie. You will come to me when you are ready.”

  A trickle of cold ice ran down my spine. He’d set out the gauntlet, and my fighting nature recognized it for what it was—a battle of wills. Well, fine, two can play that game. I flipped my hair and fought to tear my eyes from his, resuming a cold stare out at nothing in particular. I muttered, “Not gonna happen.”

  He rumbled with laughter and strode away without another word. When I was certain he wasn’t going to return, I turned to look at his perfectly sculpted body in his perfectly tailored suit slacks. I felt my lips part as I took a breath and stared shamelessly at his confident departing walk. When I looked up, I saw my reflection in the big window, ogling his behind, and then I saw him—seeing me looking. I turned too fast and spilled my drink over the railing, almost falling down in the process. Damn bastard, anyway—arrogant asshole!

  When I returned to the table, Omar and Anna were gone and just Amir sat there, apparently waiting for me. He casually looked up from his meal, “Anna was feeling ill. You will return with me.”

  “Whatever,” I said as unfazed as possible.

  He went back to eating and in a conversational tone he asked, “So, Julie. Tell me about this future career of yours.”

  I smoothed my skirt and took a sip of water, still unable to think about eating. I hated feeling this off around him—no one ever rattled me the way this guy did. “I just graduated law school. I have a few interviews scheduled as soon as I return home.”

  “Ahhh, so you will be an attorney? A pit bull in the courtroom, no doubt.”

  “More like corporate law—take-overs, corporation restructuring—that kind of thing.”

  “Ahhh, so a covert operative?”

  “I guess.” I sipped more water. “Amir?” He gave me eye contact, and my entire body felt as if he’d electrocuted me. “Why are you being so formal?”

  “Am I?”

  I shook my head slightly, “I mean, maybe not formal—I don’t know—just distant. We had amazing sex—we slept together—we were intimate. Why does it have to be this way between us?”

  He set his fork down and wiped the corners of his mouth. Then he carefully set his napkin on the table and pushed his plate away. He leaned back and studied me, as if calculating something. “Julie, forgive me, but I am only following your lead.”

  “My lead?” I squeaked. “What does that mean?”

  He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at me, “You were the one that stated it was simply a—thing—nothing more, and you were not interested in me as a man, as in us attempting a relationship. Was I incorrect in my interpretation of your words the other night?”

  I stammered, realizing I didn’t have a leg to stand on. “Um, no.” I lowered my eyes, and again I felt like crying.

  Amir slid to me and picked up my hand, “Why does this cause you sadness?” I shook my head and shrugged. I had no words. He tilted my head up with a strong finger on my chin and made me look at him. I blinked and my chin quivered.

  “Tell me, Julie. Explain the duplicitousness of this situation? Tell me why you are so upset with my casual conversation.”

  “Um, I don’t know—you’re right—sorry. Just caught me off guard.” I realized my words made no sense.

  He lifted just the right side of his mouth in a cute as hell grin, “So you do like me? You do want more?”

  My voice was much too high, “No—I mean—um, no—I can’t.”

  “Ahhh, but you want!” he said in such a way I knew that he knew how I was feeling. Then he added in an almost whisper, “I want you with a need that is ripping me up inside.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  I knew it took a lot for Amir to tell me how he felt. He’d tried being aloof, like me, but both of us were finding it nearly impossible. I wanted to stay cold and detached—I couldn’t! My air caught in my chest, and my body clenched in reaction to his statement. I managed a strangled gulp and lowered my eyes, trying to find words. I choked out, “Me too.”

  He slid even closer and his huge hand went to my neck, “Julie—princess—look at me.” His tone was that of a commander of many. I obeyed, and his expression softened, “What is happening between us? I have no reference.”

  I shook my head slightly and licked my lips. My mouth was suddenly parched, and I couldn’t stop the trembling in my legs. “I don’t…”

  He slid that final increment and obliterated the last bit of separation between our bodies. His other hand went to my thigh and slid partially up and under my skirt. In an eager tone he interrupted me, “Yes—you feel it as well.” Again, it wasn’t a question.

  I bit my lip and nodded. That was all I could do. All I could manage as his hand slid higher on my thigh. I struggled to breathe, and the too tight corset wasn’t helping. My breasts jiggled with each gasp, and a shiver began deep inside my body. “I don’t understand…”

  “Shhhhh.” He moved his hand on my neck enough to run his thumb over my lips. “Give into me, princess. Trust me.” I batted my lashes, and that internal shiver went full throttle. I had to clamp my mouth shut so my teeth wouldn’t chatter. “Is this fear?” he questioned, feeling what my body was doing.

  “No—um—no.”

  He gave me a sly grin. “Ahhh, indeed.” His hand slid higher, and his grip at my jaw tightened. His face came closer, but he didn’t kiss me. His strength seeped into me, and I fo
ught not to sway in place. His warm breath smelled of whisky and spices, “Ask me, Julie. Beg me.”

  I involuntarily clenched my jaw. I never asked, never begged. His hand met the apex of my body, and his meaty finger stroked up the thin line of cotton covering my entrance. He pushed harder, and the cotton dampened. The look he gave me and the sound he made told me he knew exactly what I was fighting to confess. He pushed harder between my thighs, and my body flooded with heat. I closed my eyes and took a deep inhale through my nose.

  He chuckled then and kissed me. It was tender and lingering, but not overwhelming. Correction, the fact that he was holding back—teasing me—was overwhelming, but I was still trying to fight it. “You want me, Julie. All you must do is ask,” he whispered at my mouth.

  I didn’t mean for my breath to shudder out of me, but it did, and it was so telling he kissed me even deeper. I swallowed his moan of delight when our tongues met and tangled. I couldn’t halt the sound my vocal chords produced in response. His hand trailed up my legs. “Beg me, princess. Julie! How can you deny this?”

  His middle finger breached my entrance, and he danced it through my folds, making me ache for more. I involuntarily pushed my hips into his grip. He rumbled in his chest. My words were almost silent, “Amir, yes.”

  He abruptly pulled away, and for a second, I thought I might orgasm right there in the booth. His other hand traveled down my arm, and he placed my shaking palm against the silk of his slacks. He was rock hard and throbbing. I could feel the heat through the material. I muttered, “Oh God.”

  “You. Must. Ask. Me.” His words were clipped and abrupt, and forceful.

  I couldn’t stop my fingers from curling partially around his thick girth. Now it was his turn to shudder. I met his eyes, “Amir, take me..”

  His eyes showed how much I’d just pleased him, “I need you this instant.” He lifted his hand in the air, and one of his men quickly left. “I will take you in the limo now. Later, I will take you again, and you will beg me until neither of us can go on.”

  My weak nod must have been enough, and he quickly stood and pulled me up. I wobbled and for a second I was certain I was going to fall down. Amir is a big man, much bigger than any other male I’ve been around. I also just discovered how strong he was as he hefted my hundred and twenty pound frame up against his chest. He kissed me as I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a startled sound from being swept up like a child. He hurriedly strode from the restaurant out to the waiting limo.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  In the limo, he went to his knees and without words, slid my skirt up almost to the crease where my thighs met my torso. He said something to the driver, and the security glass rose as the car went into motion. He spread my legs even farther apart, and he studied me, my body, my soaked panties. With practiced ease he unclipped the garter fasteners for my thigh highs, and then he methodically removed my panties.

  I was shaking from head to toe. I’d never been this aroused my entire life. I felt small and fragile—another anomaly for me—and the way he was on his knees made me feel as if he were worshipping me. This made me uneasy. I was treading water in an ocean of uncertainty. I realized I’d never been with a real man before—an experienced, adult man who knew exactly what he wanted.

  “Stunning. You are perfect—my ideal—fantasy come to life.” He continued to mutter these random phrases as I watched him. He’d not taken his eyes off my body—my heated, soaked, attention-seeking body. When he lowered his slacks and boxers together to puddle at his knees, I noticed how sure he was, how certain of his control.

  His shaft popped free as if it were on a spring. It was gorgeous. Golden mocha and glistening. The tip was already wet. His big hand gave me full body goosebumps as he stroked himself a few times—I couldn’t take my eyes off of his display. It was erotic as hell and a mysterious kind of foreplay that left me feeling as if my entire body was melting to a puddle of desire.

  I raised my eyes to lock with his and his lashes went half-mast. He tilted his chin, and I knew what he wanted. I slid off the seat and to my knees. He went up into the seat, and I turned. “May I?” He seemed shocked that I would ask—then immensely pleased. I licked at him and lapped his sweetness into my now flooded mouth. I took him as far into my mouth as I could. I couldn’t take more, but I used my hand, and I stroked and sucked and drew on him with my lips until he was swearing in a foreign tongue. Even though I had no idea the meaning of words he used, I knew he was swearing up a storm.

  “I must take you now, Julie.”

  I didn’t hesitate and scrambled up into his lap. He held his impressive length and guided himself to my wetness. With a small cry of ecstasy, I sheathed him—all of him—and I sat down hard against the bristly hairs of his groin. We both cried out, and without a moment to rest, he held my hips and ground himself in and out of me a few times.

  “Oh God—Amir.” I whimpered.

  He growled at me, “Beg me, female. Show me your passion.”

  I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t contain the overflow of pleading and begging as he lifted and cupped my ass and began pounding his hardness up and into me. I beseeched him as if he were a god and I just a mortal. It was as if I were about to die, and he was the only one that could save me. He responded to my cries like a madman, and I climaxed so intensely, I might have momentarily passed out.

  When we were both done—he came a second time shortly after I flooded out over his shaft with my release—I laid in his arms, limp against his chest, and he held me.

  I’d never felt closer to someone—never considered this kind of connection possible—and the scary part was I hardly knew him. Even scarier was how shattered I felt inside—how much I wanted more—and the thoughts racing through my head were all of defection to a land covered in sand.

  As promised, Amir made love to me the entire night and well into the next day. It was a great feeling, though, and I relished every wince. I did not, however, like leaving. I don’t think Amir liked it either because he was silent as I gathered up my things.

  I tried to joke and lighten the mood, “Talk about walk of shame. Two mornings later and the same dress. That might be a record.”

  His masculine grumble did things to my insides, “There is no shame in what we’ve shared.”

  “No—I agree. None.” I continued dressing and with each article of clothing he made more sounds of discontent. “I have to get dressed. Not like I can show up nude.”

  “If you were mine, I would insist on your nakedness…” He waved his hand to express something, then added with a chuckle, “Always! You would always be my pale, exposed princess.”

  I giggled and lifted my arms as if presenting myself, “Easy access?”

  “Ahhh—yes indeed!”

  We both laughed, but it was tainted with a deep sadness at our parting. When I did leave, he held my hands in his and confidently stated, “When you are ready, return to me, and you will be welcome always.”

  I was entirely sincere this time, not playing any games or erecting any frigid protective emotional barriers, “I wish I could, Amir. I just can’t. I have responsibilities. I must start my life now.”

  His response haunted me. “Your life is with me.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  After a teary goodbye to Anna, I flew home. I slept almost the entire trip, alone in the massive bed on the private jet. I dreamt of Amir and a different life. A life I’d never imagined. When I returned to my tiny apartment, I felt more alone than I’d ever felt my entire life. I went to bed and slept more. I hardly ate for an entire week—but I slept. It was almost as if I were catching up for all the years of not sleeping.

  I knew I was in a sort of depression, but I didn’t care. I missed Amir in an unexplainable way. It was as if we’d been together for years—multiple years—a lifetime of years! My small bed felt empty, and I was bereft as if he’d died. I couldn’t logic my way out of this connection we’d forged—and yes, I tried. We’d hardly talked—it had
been entirely physical—but my heart was broken at being separated from him.

  I had no choice, though, no other avenues before me. I had to start back into life. I took more interviews and scheduled a trip home to see my grandmother. I distracted myself by cleaning out my closets and drawers—throwing away enough stuff to make room for all the new stuff I’d brought home with me from Dubai.

  As life will do, time flew by, and it was soon almost a month since my trip. I’d distracted myself with changes to my resume and three local interviews—none of which I wanted to take. I was hopeful that a big conglomerate corporation based in New York—the interview was in two weeks—would be the one. I knew I wanted to work for them, now I just needed to make sure they wanted me.

  I Skyped with Anna whenever we could, even though the drastic time difference meant it was either the middle of the night for me or way too early for either of us. She helped me by asking me as many questions as the both of us could come up with. Everything from casual, telling chit-chat, to more serious stuff, like how I alone could achieve world peace.

  It was nice to stay connected with her. Although, after the tenth time she asked me how I was doing in regards to Amir, I had to tell her to stop asking. I had neatly stuffed that episode away in my compartment-like brain and I refused to open the door to Amir. At least, that was how I’d decided to handle my heartache for now.

  Anna was glowing and increasing in girth as her pregnancy developed. I, on the other hand, was feeling as if I had the flu. I’d had to excuse myself during our middle of the night conversation so I could throw up. After the fourth day of this happening, a slow dawning settled over my awareness. I frantically checked in my day planner for when I’d had my last period. I wasn’t that regular, so keeping track of it was difficult. I’d also been on birth control up until the beginning of the year, when they’d recalled the hormone I’d been taking. And thinking that I’d given up the party life and had been abstaining and celibate for months prior, I didn’t see the need to stay on it.