Trudy shook her head, her blond hair falling into her eyes. “No, it’s not that completely. I was actually three minutes early for even my new time.”
“Then that sounds like improvement.”
“It would be, but then I completely messed up a luncheon. I had one job. All I had to do was give the city council representatives some contracts, but I messed up big time.”
Wrinkles marred her cousin’s brow as she frowned, causing flakes of mud to fall off. “That doesn’t sound like you at all. Valedictorian, decorated head of several clubs at OU. Come on, you were even the most responsible girl back on the farm. What happened?”
“I was supposed to speak to them in Arabic, and I do speak it. The crazy part is the council reps probably speak enough English working in a town with so much foreign money and tourism.”
“And you flubbed with your accent being too American and they were mean about it?” Sonia prodded.
“No, not at all. I confused some terms or, well, didn’t exactly know one of the words could double in Dubai as some intense slang. I was so humiliated I ran out of the room, but the weirdest part was Sheikh Tahan. I thought he’d be furious, and he was but…” Trudy trailed off, unsure of how to share this next bit with her cousin. Sonia was already too intrigued with the sheikh, and already amused by Trudy’s insufferable boss.
She might give Trudy terrible ideas.
God, maybe I want Sonia to give me terrible advice.
Unbidden, she touched her lips, remembering the feel of Sheikh Tahan’s soft ones against her own, the enticing tickle and scratch of his goatee against her skin.
“Trudy?”
“I…he made out with me.”
Sonia blinked back at her, dropping a cucumber she’d been about to apply to her eyes. “He made out with you? Sounds like he did all the work. Be honest, you were kissing back.”
“Kind of…somewhat,” Trudy fumbled. “Okay, I was feeling it too, but that’s not right. He’s my boss, and, oddly, after today I’m not sure why he isn’t firing me.”
Except I do. He was talking about control and stroking my body, and I know what he wanted. Anyone would have known what he wanted…
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Sonia said.
“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted, her voice coming out as a whine. “I just know that I want to stay at Tahan Oil Subsidiaries. It’s a great opportunity, but whatever Sheikh Tahan wants from me, I don’t want it to be the only reason that I’m still at TOS. I don’t. What kind of accomplishment is it to be there as an intern by day if the way I pay my way there isn’t about my competence as an assistant, but things I do after hours in bed?”
“No one’s asked you to be like that,” Sonia countered.
“You didn’t hear the way he said it, didn’t feel anything he did.”
The way his erection pressed into my body more than once.
“You know, it’s hard. We’ve left everything, and we have to decide…you have to decide, Trudy, what’s right for you. If you would only pursue a relationship with him to save your job, then you should do that. But if you think you have feelings for him too, well, you’ve never had a chance to explore anything before.”
“People would say”—”
“Sweetie, it doesn’t matter what they’d say if you were taking the chance you wanted. Whatever you do, whatever you have to do, I’ll support you. After all, you knew it had to be a crazy idea for me to go after that bluegrass singer down in Tulsa but you let me. You’ve always been there when I made my mistakes. I’m going to be there for you, even if it’s just over Skype,” Sonia said, pressing her hand up to the camera, not close enough to obscure the signal, but enough to make a pledge.
Blinking back her tears of gratitude, Trudy raised her hand as well. She wished she could actually feel her cousin’s hand up against her own, that she’d be as grounded as she could be. Her head was spinning, and Trudy had no idea what choices she was going to make, or what would be the best course of action. She knew what her mother would have said. What her father would have told her as well.
Except if I’d listened to them, I’d be churning butter forever and living by candle light.
“I’ll figure it out, cousin, I promise.”
Sonia laughed. “Cuz, you don’t have to be so formal and, trust me, I think you will, but try not to make the noble decision. You’ve been responsible even after Rumspringa, and you’ve never let yourself explore anything. Maybe this is your chance. After all, how many chances like this does anyone get in a lifetime?”
“And how many great internships come along either?” Trudy said, sighing. “I’ll keep you in the loop, but I better get some sleep. I have to be up by six to commute correctly and it’s close to midnight here.”
“Sure,” Sonia said. “Love you, cuz.”
“Love you too.”
With that, Trudy clicked the session off and stood. Stretching, she reached her arms behind her and massaged the tight muscles of her lower back. Stress had been curling through her all day, and she just needed relief. Glancing at the clock, she sighed. It was already 11:45 p.m., and she’d be paying for that come the morning. Still, she’d been too wound up to shower, and she needed to be clean, stay as professional as possible, even if she might be fired tomorrow. Besides, the sand and heat of Dubai were coating her, and she felt that she reeked. Even in the spring, the strong sun of the desert had beat down on her all day, and she wanted to feel clean.
Craved it.
But not as much as you crave something else.
Walking to the bathroom, Trudy pulled out a towel from the closet and then slipped out of her clothes. The water started off as cool and it took some time to get it warm. As she stood there, shivering a bit in the tiled bathroom, Trudy rubbed at her neck and remembered the feel of his lips there, the way his tongue had laved at her pulse point. Warmth flared back in her belly, and it wasn’t just the shower that was wet.
No one’s here. No one but me ever has to know.
Slipping into the warm water, enjoying the droplets as they spread over her skin, Trudy reached up to the shower head. It was one of the massaging heads that could be hand held as well. This past week, it had been good for getting the sand out of every nook and cranny and for giving attention to a back burdened by lifting too many move-in boxes. Now, however, Trudy had other plans for it.
Back on the farm in Pennsylvania, fun had been forbidden. It was seen as the frivolous fancies of the English, the heathens outside her Amish sect. That meant everything from electricity to dancing to love. Most pairings were arranged by elders and sex never entered into the equation, not until the wedding night. Then it was encouraged only for the purpose of creating children, of having so many more hands around the farmlands and spurring on a new generation to help keep their people’s numbers strong.
But sex for fun—outside of marriage—was forbidden. Frankly, masturbation was seen as just as taboo. All of it was profane in the Lord’s eyes. While she still hadn’t had sex yet, let alone been stirred that deeply in desire by a man, Trudy knew how to pleasure herself. It was one of the first things she’d finally allowed herself to explore during Rumspringa, and, perhaps, that pleasure she achieved during orgasm was one of the main reasons she’d stayed gone from the farm and allowed herself to pick the big, scary world over what was expected of her.
If just her fingers could make her feel like that, then one day she couldn’t even imagine the pleasure a man, especially one like Sheikh Tahan, could make her feel.
Her head swam just from the thought of it.
Trudy leaned her head back and closed her eyes. In her imagination, she saw those intense hazel eyes of Sheikh Tahan staring back at her, that piercing gaze of hers seeing right through her and to her core. She could smell the musk of him, that scent that was purely male and that hint of turmeric that seemed to cling to him as well. The tender skin of her cheek could almost feel the scruff of his beard rubbing up against it or the fi
rm muscles of his shoulders under her grasping hands. Reaching down with one hand, Trudy parted her folds. It was hard to tell where the spray of the shower ended and her own wetness began; all she knew was how ready she was to climax, how desperate and eager thoughts of Sheikh Tahan had rendered her.
The lithe fingers of her right hand stroked her most secret lips, marveling at the smooth skin there, all while she wished it was Sheikh Tahan touching her. She would have loved to feel those big, strong hands playing with the sensitive, hidden petals of her womanhood. Oh to feel his other hand digging into her ample hips as it had this afternoon in the alley. Nothing in this frantic groping in the shower could compare to the passion cascading through her like a wild torrent when he had kissed her.
But this would have to do.
It was all she had.
Bringing the shower head to her core, Trudy moaned. The water was fast, its drops hitting against her pleasure button, spurring sensation and a wave of pleasure to spread out from her core. Her knees almost buckled, and she leaned against the wall behind her. With one hand, she placed her fingers and thumb around the soft pink bud of her nipple. With the other, she kept the shower head planted firmly on her nub of nerves. The waves of pleasure escalated, rippling through her whole body, from her hairline and all the way down to her toes. Her muscles quivered and her skin felt sensitized, almost as if her sheikh had kissed every inch of her body, had let her skin feel the scrape of his goatee.
After all, this wasn’t about Trudy finding pleasure alone in her apartment.
No, this was more than that.
This was about the desire she felt, and the need she was trying to run from. Tomorrow, she’d have to be responsible, be the good girl she always was, no matter what her cousin encouraged or what she wished deep down in the most private corner of her heart. Tomorrow, she’d even clean out her own desk if he gave her an ultimatum. But that was in eight hours or so.
Right now?
Right now she could have the idea of Sheikh Tahan, imagining that his strong hand was the one gripping her nipples, causing the skin of her areolas to pebble with need. That it was his hand that kneaded her right breast, causing that torrent of pleasure and need to swirl through her with the strength of a tidal wave. That it was his hardness pressing against her pleasure button, making her muscles quiver and turn to jelly, and not just a shower head.
Sheikh Tahan was with her, all over her.
So when she came, with the force of a hundred-foot tsunami, it was Tahan who was curling his hand into the thick, ample flesh of her hips, and Tahan whose tongue was playing skillfully over her skin. His moans of pleasure that should be echoing beside her own.
Satiated, at least for now, Trudy finished off by staying propped up against the wall and then washing herself off. When she was clean, she put the shower head back in its place and slipped out of the shower, wrapping her towel around her. Even though she felt off kilter, as if she’d just hopped off a Tilt-a-Whirl like that time her cousin had taken her to the Oklahoma state fair, Trudy was able to shuffle to her bed. But she was too tired to put on her nightgown. Instead, she curled up under her sheets and placed one hand over her stomach and the other over her chest. In her imagination, it was Sheikh Tahan who was spooning her.
After all, I’m not really just a lonely virgin wishing for things that would never really happen.
That reality would be too sad for words.
* * *
“You shouldn’t let Omar do your hiring for you,” Fairuza said as they walked into his penthouse.
After the frustrations and confusion of the afternoon, Barakaa had decided to clear his head by taking Fairuza out for dinner. They’d gone to one of Wolfgang Puck’s newest fusion adventures and then enjoyed a spot of opera. After all, he was a man whose tastes were far from plebian. It had been the anger and Omar’s earlier words casting some sort of spell over him. Yes, it would be interesting to train up Trudy, to obtain pure submission from a woman who could be so strong in one breath and so eager to please in the next. Besides, she had that pure, creamy American skin. He wondered what it would look like with a few marks on it, if love bites and hickies would show up better on skin not so sun-kissed and olive in complexion.
But she was incompetent.
Would it be worth breaking one of his bigger rules about business—no affairs with direct underlings—to chase his pleasure?
Besides, Fairuza, who was one of the head administrative assistants and answered to Omar, was appealing enough. Their relationship was casual at best; it was one where she offered certain benefits in order to help him relieve his stress. But her financial and career future weren’t up to him. He left her to others, and that kept his conscience clean. Besides, he’d known her from prep school long before they’d both been at Tahan Oil Subsidiaries. Gazing over at her, Barakaa slid over to the wet bar to pour himself a Scotch.
While some of his employees were adherent Muslims, he was more flexible, as was Fairuza. Both off them were workaholics who rarely, if ever, took even Saturdays off. They also loved a nice drink late at night. His hands seemed to move of their own accord as they reached over the bar to make her a screwdriver, as she always wanted. She was gorgeous—tall, almost six feet in heels, with long dark hair that cascaded down her back and luminous brown eyes that were stunning even when they weren’t rimmed with kohl as they were now. Objectively, after the drinks he should be ready to relieve his stress and confusion with her as he had so many nights before.
And yet, Trudy Yoder’s face and her wide, surprised indigo eyes were haunting him tonight. No, not haunting. It was as if she were taunting him, as if this painfully innocent student were mocking his own desires.
No, he just wanted fun.
He did not have time for complicated office affairs or for an American girl—and she was definitely still merely a girl—who would be gone in less than twelve weeks.
“I don’t know if Omar made the incorrect choice,” he said in between gritted teeth. Walking over to her, he handed Fairuza a drink. She eyed it and then gulped it down. “Yes, the American is klutzy”—”
“I heard about the disaster with the city council representatives.”
“Who told?”
“Everyone knows, Barakaa. She obviously fudged on her Arabic expertise.”
“Or she doesn’t understand the nuances of what we speak in Dubai.”
Fairuza drained her drink and set the tumbler aside. Then she laughed, a cold, dismissive sound that left him rankling. “You sound as if you’re sweet on her. An American college student? Really? Oh Barakaa, you can do so much better.” Standing, Fairuza slunk her way over to him and leaned against his torso. Her hand trailed low and caressed his member through the slacks of his tuxedo. Despite everything, he didn’t react. Tonight, she just wasn’t what he wanted. Fairuza laughed again. “Oh, you have it bad. She’s a child.”
“She’s twenty-two and, technically, she graduated. I don’t know what I feel, just that she has some competence with sorting out bids and she did well with me until the meeting.”
“Yes, she was fine until there was a massive mistake. Now that’s a glowing recommendation,” Fairuza countered, increasing her efforts. Her right hand was stroking him fiercely through his pants while the other was playing with the edges of his hair on the back of his neck. “Come now, Barakaa. You know what we both want. You know what will actually help you relax.”
Swallowing, Barakaa closed his eyes. The meeting had gone horribly, but he’d been able to soothe the concerns of the council long enough to get the deal finalized. But his mind was more focused on the impulse that had driven him to wrap his lips around hers, and on the need that he’d felt deep in his gut to stroke her corn silk colored hair, than on how the meeting ended.
She was beyond naïve. Her tongue had floundered compared to the skillful way Fairuza was kissing him now, but this felt cold, as if by rote. This was what Fairuza did to curry favor with him and had done so with him on-and-off f
or over a decade. But with Trudy? He could feel the passion in every whimper, the need in every tight grasp of her fingers. She was a novice, but she was eager to learn and every part of her seemed willing.
Supple and pliable.
He liked that.
So, even as Barakaa kissed Fairuza, he knew that was as far as they’d go tonight. He just wanted a way to pretend it was Trudy’s soft lips on his own and Trudy’s rounded hips in his palms. She was the one on his mind, and until he’d fully claimed her, fully gotten her under his control and tutelage, she’d be the only woman he was sleeping with.
Finally, when he could no longer sustain the fantasy, when all he wanted was to retire to bed alone to take care of his frustrations, Barakaa pulled back. “Thank you, my dear. You serve well as always.”
Fairuza snorted and shook her head, even as she started gathering her purse and shoes. “You can’t be serious. Barakaa, you know there’s only one reason you call me for company after hours.”
“Not tonight, Fairuza. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Why?”
“To put it bluntly, I’d be thinking of another woman the whole time. Is that really what you’d want?”
Fairuza puckered her lips as if she’d bitten into an especially bitter lemon. “Are you serious? She’s an American girl and a fairly heavy one at that.”
“She intrigues me and,” he added, glaring back at her, “I’ve become bored with what’s on offer. Maybe I like a bit of adventure.”
“Or a bit of bland melba toast,” she bit back. “There’s nothing such a child can do for you.”
“Except be a challenge. You’re too easy, Fairuza, too eager to please in hopes of gaining my favor and my power. I want something more. I want someone who’s…fresh.”
Fairuza shook her head and slapped him across the cheek. Rubbing at his face, Barakaa swallowed. “You shouldn’t have done that. I can have Omar demote you down to the mail room.”
“You won’t because I’m Omar’s best assistant and I answer to him. He knows I’m invaluable…and that I know too much of this company’s dirty laundry.”
The Sheikh's Forbidden Mistress Page 3
