by Marian Tee
“Surely you exaggerate---”
“Unfortunately, I am not.” She shot the sheikh a challenging look, asking, “Do you remember Susan Perth, the former wife of the Canadian ambassador?”
Tarif frowned. “What of her?”
Anisah started to enumerate the headline-making actions of the ambassador’s ex-wife, all of which had been attributed to the woman’s inability to get over the end of her affair with the sheikh. Tarif did his best to concentrate, but instead he found himself increasingly distracted by the way Anisah’s sweet, perfect breasts bounced delightfully as she passionately made her case.
His erection started to throb as he continued to enjoy the jiggling movements of her breasts. Soon, vivid, red-hot memories invaded his mind, and Tarif sucked his breath in as he remembered the addictive feel of her soft, plump flesh on his hands and the succulent taste of her nipples –
“Are you even listening to me, sheikh?”
Anisah’s exasperated words caused him to reluctantly pull his eyes away from the mesmerizing sight of her bouncing breasts.
“Sheikh?”
He met her gaze.
“Have you heard even a single word I said?”
“No,” the sheikh managed to say calmly even as the massive ache in his balls threatened to drive him crazy. “I’m afraid I had other pressing things in mind.”
She frowned unhappily at the sheikh, not liking the way he made light of her emotional wellbeing. “I’m being serious here, sheikh. I don’t want to be a heartbroken wreck when our affair ends---”
“Relax, anisdi. You couldn’t be one even if you tried.”
The words were a compliment of sorts, Anisah supposed, but right now she was more concerned over the sudden hoarseness in the sheikh’s voice. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked suspiciously.
Silence.
And then the sheikh drawled, “I’m glad you asked.”
He was?
“And as for the answer – may I show you instead?”
Anisah shrugged uneasily, confused and just a bit apprehensive now that she had finally noticed the dangerous glitter in his ebony gaze. “It’s up to you – ah!” Anisah had barely finished speaking when the sheikh suddenly placed his hands around her waist and lifted her up---
In the next second, she found herself splayed on the table, and she let out a cry as the sheikh shoved everything else off the table with one quick sweep of his arm.
“Sheikh---”
His mouth covered hers, and the heat of his kiss devoured her thoughts in an instant, the movement of his lips drowning her in a deluge of sensations.
Ooooooooh.
One…two…and…a…half.
That was all it took. Two and a half seconds for her resistance to crumble, and the moment the sheikh’s tongue slipped between her lips, she found herself yielding to him, her lips parting, her arms wrapping around his neck, and her soft, aching body melting against his hardness.
“Tory, God.”
The way the sheikh groaned out his pet name for her had Anisah whimpering, and she could only arch her neck as his mouth left hers and moved downwards. A sob escaped her when he sucked on her neck, and another sob slipped past her lips when his mouth moved farther down, closer and closer to the fully erect nipples that were silently begging for his touch.
The doors to the ice cream parlor flew open at that moment, but by this time Anisah and the sheikh were too lost in each other to notice. Hyacinth entered the establishment, equally oblivious, with her head bowed and her distracted gaze focused on the paper bags she was carrying.
How much did she end up spending again, Hyacinth wondered. Would Anisah be mad if she had spent a little over her budget? She looked up, intending to ask her sister this, but no words came out of her mouth.
Anisah…was on the table…and the sheikh...was sucking on her breasts.
A gasp broke out of Hyacinth’s throat, and this time the sound was loud enough to penetrate the haze of passion that had clouded the couple’s senses.
The sheikh abruptly pulled away while Anisah let out a choking sound of dismay. When Anisah almost fell off the table in her haste to get down, Tarif took command and stilled her movements with a gentle touch on her elbow. “Allow me, anisdi.”
The sheikh’s serious tone penetrated Anisah’s shock, and she found herself letting him take her hand as he helped her off the table.
Hyacinth couldn’t stop staring at the tableau unfolding before her. It was her first time to see her older sister so docile, and Hyacinth didn’t quite know how to feel about it. The sheikh was also holding Anisah like she was made of precious glass, and she had no idea what to make of it either.
Gnawing on her lip in apprehension, Hyacinth asked in a faint, uncertain voice, “Does this mean I was right to text you?”
Anisah turned to her half-sister with a confused look. “What text?”
At the same time, the sheikh straightened to his full height and turned to meet Anisah’s gaze calmly as he answered, “Yes. You were.”
Chapter Eleven
“Good morning, and welcome to Internet Communication Protocol. Assuming you’ve taken the required time to read the syllabus for this course prior to today’s meeting, then there is no need for me to waste my time with introductions.” A pause – just before the professor then arched one eyebrow at her class. “Or is there?”
The whole class mumbled a ‘no.’
“Excellent.” One corner of the professor’s lips turned up in what might be considered a smile of approval, but it disappeared so quickly the students wondered if they had merely imagined it.
“Now, to further clarify the overview stated in the syllabus, this course is not meant to teach you the ideal number of hashtags you can use in your post or the best filter to communicate your attractiveness to the world. If that was what you imagined this course to be---” The professor politely gestured to the door. “You may apply for a withdrawal now without any worries of getting a failing grade.”
Five students didn’t hesitate to grab their things and leave, but judging by the relieved expressions on their faces, their reason had to do more with the terror their professor inspired rather than the newly expanded description of their course.
The door slammed shut behind them with a loud thud, and everyone flinched at the sound.
“Anyone else want to do the same?”
All thirty-seven students slowly shook their heads, no longer capable of uttering even a single sound.
Outside, Tarif was walking down the glass-walled corridors of the freshmen’s hallway when he chanced upon the curious sight of five students rushing out of a classroom, all white-faced and jittery. The sheikh lowered his head as they walked past him, the tail end of their conversation drifting to his ears.
“Even if she hadn’t offered the withdrawal card,” one of the boys shared in Rami, “I’d still have left.”
“Same, dude,” the boy next to him averred feelingly.
“My older sister already warned me about Professor Kahveci,” the lone girl in the group revealed with a grimace. “I thought she was exaggerating but obviously---” The girl gave a light shudder. “I think I’ll just re-enroll next sem under the other prof.”
Their voices faded in the distance, and his lips twisted at the irony of it. While those five kids couldn’t run fast enough to stay as far away from Anisah, here he was, desperate to get as close as he could to her –
And so far, nothing was working.
The sheikh stopped before her classroom, its two-way windows allowing him to observe Anisah without being noticed. With her stern-looking glasses in place, her hair once again concealed under a hijab, and her tall, elegant form sheathed in a dark, shapeless abaya, Anisah looked every inch the teacher no one would want to have.
When Anisah turned her back on the class to start writing in bullet form on the chalkboard, her students furiously copied every word, their heads bobbing up and down and pen-wielding fingers moving i
n a blur. It was clear that her students were all afraid of her, but their spellbound expressions also told him that they weren’t hanging over her every word purely out of fear. Anisah knew what she was talking about, and her students were smart enough to appreciate this.
Tarif reached for his phone inside his pocket, hesitated for a moment, and then thought, Why the hell not?
The sheikh took his phone out.
Click.
He glanced at his phone after taking the photo, and his face became expressionless. In his thirty-plus years of existence, this was the very first time he had cared enough to take a woman’s photo. And for it to be Anisah Kahveci---
He remembered how last night had ended, with Anisah so mortified at having been caught in a compromising position that she couldn’t even make herself look at him as she grabbed her sister’s hand and started dragging a confused but grinning Hyacinth towards the doors.
‘I’m so sorry, sheikh,’ the younger woman had called out to him with mischief sparkling in her eyes. ‘I’ll remember to, umm, knock next time.’
Over Anisah’s groan of embarrassment, Tarif had answered back politely, ‘Please do so, anisdi. I will not appreciate a similar interruption next time---’
To which his lovely puritan had let out an appalled gasp just before whirling around to glower at him. “A bit more discretion would not be amiss, Your Highness!”
The memory had the sheikh’s lips twisting in a wry smile. She had warned him not to do anything to make her fall in love with him, but did she not see that she was as much a danger to him as well?
Had the damn woman even paused to think of how Tarif hadn’t touched another woman ever since she entered his line of sight?
And for the coup de grace, she had now reduced him into secretly taking her photos like he was no better than the stalker next door.
Tarif shook his head in chagrin.
Ah, my sweet. Do you not see the irony here?
The way things were, maybe he should have set the same conditions as well. Or maybe just that last one would do.
You must promise not to do anything that will make me fall in love with you.
Because God knew…
Someone like him, whose only idea of love was his own mother’s selfish, twisted, and depraved version of it –
Someone like him was bound to fuck things up.
****
Anisah severely repressed her smile as she watched her students simultaneously breathe a silent sigh of relief at the sound of the bell ringing. She knew it was terrible of her, but she really did quite enjoy terrorizing the adorable little brats.
“Please review Lesson 2 thoroughly; we’ll have a graded recitation on our next meeting.” When the class started to groan, she raised an inquiring brow, asking sweetly, “Perhaps you would prefer a quiz instead?”
Identical looks of horror greeted her words, and then everyone was vehemently shaking their heads and assuring her that no, they absolutely did not prefer a quiz to a graded recitation.
“I thought so.” Her tone was soft but pointed; it was a clear warning that if the students were to express another unnecessary complaint, then she would not be as lenient the second time.
Anisah made a careless wave towards the door. “Dismissed.” As the students quickly filed out of the room, she opened her bag, and the first thing she saw was her phone showing notifications for several unread messages.
Hyacinth to Anisah: Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. This is pure torture and abuse!
Anisah to Hyacinth: I just think it’s high time you grow up and learn how to fix your own breakfast.
Anisah to Hyacinth: Also – don’t think I’ve forgotten what he said. YOU TEXTED HIM?
Hyacinth to Anisah: So not preparing your baby sister breakfast isn’t abuse, but now you’re acting like texting a sheikh is a crime? #questionableprinciples
Anisah to Hyacinth: Don’t change the subject. How do you even know his number?
Tarif to Anisah: Have lunch with me after your class.
Hyacinth to Anisah: I got it from R.
Anisah to Hyacinth: Only if you promise to behave and not lay me on the table like I’m something to feast on.
Hyacinth to Anisah: OMG HE FEASTED ON YOU?
The National Association of Ramilian Teachers has added you to their chat group.
A cry of horror escaped Anisah when she realized she had mistakenly texted Hyacinth her reply for the sheikh. Oh dear heavens, she would never hear the end of it now! Clicking on the first tab on the top of the message list, she hurriedly typed her reply to Hyacinth.
Hush! It was a figure of speech. The sheikh and I didn’t even make it past second base, okay?
Anisah clicked Send.
There, that would do it.
A moment later, her phone exploded with a bombardment of messages, and Anisah almost dropped her phone in her shock. Why were so many teachers simultaneously texting her all of a---
OH!
She frantically started dragging her screen’s scroll bar down, heart beating hard as she searched for the very last message thread she had typed her answer for Hyacinth. And when she finally found what she was looking for –
Anisah’s phone fell to the floor in a loud thud as the magnitude of her error struck her.
Allah save me!
She had texted The National Association of Ramilian Teachers about the sheikh reaching second base with her.
Anisah heard the door to her classroom open and froze at the sound of soft, steady fall of footsteps coming towards her. Even without seeing a thing, she suddenly knew it was the sheikh –
She slowly lowered her shaking hands, and her eyes opened.
The sheikh stood in front of her, looking devastatingly beautiful and sophisticated in a custom-designed suit from a prominent Savile Row tailor. “Marhava, Tory.” His voice was soft, his tone cultured.
Anisah found herself holding her breath. Did he know what she had just let slip -
And then she saw it…a lopsided smile slowly forming on his lips, and oh, may the stars save her, but it just made him a thousand times sexier, and she found herself torn between cringing (because of what it meant) and swooning (because of what it made her feel).
“Tell me, my sweet. Was that bit about you not making it past second base a complaint?”
Chapter Twelve
Heads swung and jaws fell open as soon as the sheikh and Anisah walked past teachers and students alike as they headed down the hallway. It was a reaction that Tarif was well used to. His companion, however, was not, and he murmured in a low, husky voice, “Chin up, my sweet. Just a few minutes more, and we’re out of this place.”
Anisah obeyed the sheikh’s words without question, her back straightening and her chin going up as commanded. She knew she was acting like a zombie, but she couldn't help it. In light of her father’s act of treason, she had done her very best to avoid getting involved in any scandal. Everything she said and did was meant to keep her life peaceful and proper.
But obviously, those days were long over.
With just one mis-sent message, her whole world had come crashing down on her. She was now a household name for the very worst reason, a public figure whose sole claim to fame was having committed a social gaffe that had instantly launched a thousand memes.
That moment you found out there’s a woman in this world stupid enough not to haul Tarif Al-Atassi all the way to fourth base and hit a homerun...SMH.
Oh come on, girl. If second base is the limit for you, strike out and lemme take your place.
Will the real Professor Anisah Kahveci please stand up?
When good girls go bad…
The memory was enough to make Anisah trip over her own feet, and she would’ve tumbled down the stairs if not for the sheikh swiftly pulling her back.
“Careful, anisdi.” He released his hold on Anisah as soon as she regained her balance, knowing that he had to tread carefully with her at this moment. Whil
e Anisah’s practical nature allowed her to receive guidance from him, he also knew her pride would make her shun anything that would make her feel like a damsel in distress.
“Thank you.”
Tarif frowned at the stiffness of her tone, but having so many eyes trained on them prevented him from reaching out to her as they descended the last flight of steps. All he could do was fall into step next to her, and bending his head, he said under his breath, “Please relax, anisdi. I mean it when I said all will be fine.”
Anisah didn’t answer. It was easy for the sheikh to say everything was fine. He was used to scandals of this sort. But she was not. This whole thing had her flailing helplessly like a fish out of water, and for the first time in her life – she simply did not know what was the proper thing to do.
This was not how it should be, she thought numbly. Their affair was supposed to be secret, harmless fun and just that. It was not supposed to be the first step to career ruin, and oh, to think that she herself was the reason this happened in the first place.
Anisah couldn’t help sneaking a worried look at the sheikh. She had lectured him about discretion just last night, and here she was –
A sudden burst of excited squeals interrupted her thoughts, and Anisah almost lost her footing again at the sight that greeted her at the foot of the stairs: a small crowd of female students had their smartphones trained on them, clicking away while they giggled among themselves.
“You have two choices here, anisdi,” the sheikh murmured. “Either pay no attention to them, or interact with them as you normally would.”
Anisah forced a smile. “Does that mean I’m allowed to confiscate all of their phones and have them write a ten-page essay on why they shouldn’t intrude on a person’s privacy?”
