She had to touch him. Her fingers greedily sought out the back of his neck, fastening over his skin once she felt her way there. His skin was hot, lickable. Lust pumped though her, and flushed between her legs with the knowledge of them connected; with him so close, kissing would barely require movement.
He leaned in and, as Sarah’s chest tightened and her insides clenched with the thrill, she decided she must know at least one thing about this mysterious man first.
She pressed her pointer to her lips, his only blocked by that one finger she held between them.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Sarah replied, dropping her finger. “But you aren’t taking three for three.”
He pulled back a few inches, a crease visible between his eyebrows. “Huh?”
“The coffee, the ticket …” Sarah let that hang there a moment. She added, “I want one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Your name.”
“I was wondering when you were going to ask that.”
Sarah was mesmerised by his lips so close, yet so far—taunting her. Soft, warm, kissable, she decided.
“It’s Malik,” he said, pronouncing Ma-lik. “Means ‘King’ in Arabic.”
Sarah chuckled softly, pressing her lips to his cheek to stifle the sound. She really didn’t want to be kicked out right now.
“What’s funny?” Malik said, his tone cautious.
“I’m Sarah. ‘Princess’ in Hebrew.”
He smiled at that. And it happened.
Their lips met with hunger, at first ravishing, then he tugged at her lip. She fought to bite back at him. Releasing the tension didn’t calm her, though she expected to feel relief, and so their lips worked together, feeding their desire. She hinted first, touching her tongue with his for a moment, and he widened the kiss. She slipped her tongue in.
Sarah leaned her forehead against his, exhaling. She heard his low, guttural growl as she felt his lips clench against her skin.
Her hands gripped at the back of his neck, tighter than before. She pulled at his hair, his skin. She knew that, whatever it was, she needed more of what he had given her. His hand rubbed down her waist and slipped under her top. There, at the line of her pants, hands clenched on either side of her hips. He spread his fingers from the line of her V to the little dimples at her back, and coaxed his hands deeper into her flesh until it hurt Sarah, so good.
Malik smiled while looking at her lips, then sealed them with a peck. He said, “What a fit,” and the double meaning wasn’t lost on her.
DATES
THEN
Names had always meant a lot to Sarah, and for a week her mum, dad and she didn’t say a word about the affair, but she was burning with want of that lady’s name.
Her mum still made dinner for them, but she would sometimes say, “Sarah would you pass me the salt, please?” and her dad would lean over, Sarah would take it and pass it to the other end of the table. Her Mum found excuses for everything that week. Couldn’t watch their favourite re-runs of Everybody Loves Raymond, because one night she could only fit in a waxing appointment at 8.15 pm, the last slot of the night. Sarah was better off catching up on that assignment, she was told, instead of coming to buy groceries this week. It was unsaid, but clearly her mum wanted space, and it made for tension between Sarah’s dad and her, too. They didn’t speak, always skirting around being alone.
But, after that week, Sarah had to sit down and beg her mum for help. She had an English talk due on the history of Shakespeare, and she had no idea where to start looking for information, no clue about the meanings of his plays, and hardly an idea on writing an interesting speech.
Her mum went to the bookshelf behind her, and Sarah watched, body twisted around, elbow hanging off the back. Her mum bent to a lower section and flipped through the spines until she found what she wanted. Upon returning to the table, she nodded at the book in her hand, a smile forming on her beautiful face for the first in a long time.
Her mother had fair skin and full lips, and her smile was always the best thing about her. Sarah was grateful that, even though she was bored of this silly subject, it made her mum happier today, and it meant Sarah could talk to her.
Sarah had discovered just how hard it was having no one to lean on, and she would do anything not to go through this alone again.
“This is the copy I used when I was at school,” her mum began. She flipped some pages until she came across one with scribbled notes along the margin. Fingering the note, she ran her finger under the writing like a marker as she read, “Romeo and Juliet explores the depth of all-consuming, passionate and ugly love. No other emotion overrides the power of love. It can be violent, and even supersedes loyalties.”
Sarah wondered afterwards why her mum specifically found that play when her speech was on Shakespeare. She wondered lots of things, like why her mum was looking for a specific note that she had presumably written as a teenager. Was she sixteen, like Sarah, when she’d wrote that? Sarah’s stupid diary writings were nothing like how insightful her mum had been at her age. But maybe she had inherited her passion for the written word, and that made Sarah smile.
It was that night her mum came to visit her in bed again. Sarah had her sheets and comforter resting over her crossed legs, and she was flipping through her mum’s old copy of Romeo and Juliet again for ideas on her speech.
“What are you smiling for, Sez?” her mum asked.
Sarah knew her mum was letting her back in from the way she said it. “Just thinking about things.”
Her mum nodded and came up to sit on the side of her bed. She didn’t look at Sarah, but rather played with the floral design on the cover, and feathered her fingers along. It seemed lyrical, the movement, and it made Sarah wonder what her mother was thinking.
“I’m sorry, baby,” her mum said after a while. “He was my all-consuming love, and I don’t know who I am, or what my life is, now it’s all been a lie.”
“But I’m not a lie, Mum,” Sarah said. She reached out and took her mum’s hands, and they held each other for a while. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Her mum smiled again, and Sarah couldn’t not smile with that infectious feeling sliding up inside her, making her giddy.
“Her name was Alyssa,” her mum said. “Alyssa Fawnheart. I couldn’t think of a prettier name, myself, and she’s the one with his heart.”
With a sad smile, her mum stood and walked away, but stopped and asked, “Do you have a boyfriend? I’m sorry I haven’t asked how you’ve been, but I can tell by your glow something has happened.”
Sarah blushed, looked down. She looked back up, calmer, and said, “His name is Nicholas.”
“Bring him over for dinner tomorrow night.” Her mum tapped on the doorframe, smiling to nothing at all. “I need to meet this young man.”
Sara couldn’t sleep for well over an hour. She lay in bed and looked at her ceiling and, when she couldn’t stand that, she propped up her pillows near the windowsill and gazed out at all her neighbours, the street lights, the garden lights, the starlight and an occasional car passing through, and wondered why this pretty-named woman called Alyssa Fawnheart had to come in and tear down her mum’s and her perfect lives.
Wouldn’t it be better off not knowing?
• • •
NOW
Sarah couldn’t tell you what that movie was about. Cars, action, sex? Most likely. All she knew was that Malik fuelled her up, made her heart race, and could likely please her in the last department.
They exited in the usual manner. The credits began to roll and they squeezed out of the rows, filing down behind all the people in lower rows and around to the hall leading out of the dark cinema. But something unusual happened while he walked next to her. She felt his fingers skim along the back of her hand, so she turned it, her palm facing his, and though his face didn’t hint the slightest at what they were doing, he moved his fingers in patterns along her hand. By the time t
hey passed under the light in the main foyer, he had weaved his fingers through hers.
She looked up, and he was gazing down at her with his lips slightly parted, his eyes filled with the same warm desire as she felt inside.
“Like it?” Malik asked as they left the back doors.
The darkness of the night shocked Sarah. She forgot to answer initially. She hadn’t expected time to stop for them, but he had a way of altering her perception of the world around her. All the street lamps were lit up, shopfronts were dark, bars were over windows, and roller doors shut over the entrances. Only a corner Seven Eleven store was open. She estimated it was nine o’clock, or so.
That realisation made her mind fire warnings at her. It’s dark enough for him to have his way with you, she thought. She’d be at his mercy. It’s isolated enough for anything, really.
“Um,” Sarah started, “it was awesome.”
“Same. Thought the movie was awesome.”
They shared a look. Neither had watched the movie, in between their hands grasping at each other’s skin and clothing. Or, even, when they’d managed to not kiss for what felt like fifteen whole minutes. The whole time Sarah was sure, by the look that mirrored her thoughts, that Malik had been consumed by thoughts of her, too.
“Want to sit?”
He pointed at a bench. It was near the bus stop station outside the back of the cinema. There were three bus stops under covers, bright, neon-lit advertisements on either side of each of the covers. Streetlights were situated on either end, and there were several people waiting.
“Sure.”
She put her bag on the other side to where he sat down, clamped one hand under her thigh and the other draped over her bag, holding it close. She had no idea why, but the flurry of butterflies in her tummy had changed, and instead she was aware of the time, the guy at the bus stop checking his timetable, the two teenagers giggling and huddled over an illuminated phone, the cars going by.
Sarah decided she had to start first. “I’m a junior editor. First day on the job, ran around learning people’s names, getting my desk and computer set up, learning health and safety rules, ran around to do coffee runs and barely ate. I’m still not so hungry.”
“All you had to do was ask, you know,” Malik said.
Sarah crinkled her eyebrows.
“What I do for a living. Or my past. What colour I like. Whatever you want. I never claimed to be a closed box, waiting for a beautiful girl like yourself to lure in.”
Sarah giggled. Her shoulders had lost their heaviness, and she brought both her hands up, one to her chest and the other unconsciously fluttering in the air to make him stop. Her laugh was filled with innocence that filled the air, stripping the distance between them. It was the first real emotion Sarah had displayed that wasn’t thought out, or performed in mind of pleasing him. It was something he brought out of her.
Now there wasn’t a gap between their thighs. Her hand rested on his after she was done, and he noticed it. There was quiet for a while, and Sarah saw him watching her hand, or thigh. But he watched her, whatever he had his eye on, and she never wanted to leave.
His scent distracted her thoughts, her processing, and she couldn’t focus on anything but the haze his scent created. That was another thing she’d discovered about the allure of him. He smelt of something sweet, yet with a kick of spice.
His heat brought her mind back to here, now, with him. His hand was once again brushing against her fingertips, and she shivered, and grabbed his hand quickly, to rid the teasing feeling he created in her. Once the rough feeling of his hands touched her, sealed with their grip, she relaxed. It was like a drug. He completed a part of her, and satisfied a need, like the uniqueness a drug had on each person.
“Anyway,” Sarah said, “I would rather know your favourite colour. It’s an important thing I have to know about a guy.”
“I’m just some guy to you?” he replied.
“Sure, call it that. Just some guy to me.”
He snickered and stared at her lips. Sarah felt naked, then, under his eyes. Like he was piercing through, deep inside, and she desperately wanted to know what it was he was seeing.
Meeting her gaze, he said, “Brown. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know, but at least now you know. You?”
“Hot pink.” She rolled her eyes, grinning. “Take from that what you will. And yes, I also have two pairs of hot pink pumps. One is studded, one is suede.”
“Hmm,” Malik mumbled. He drew in closer, and inhaled so close to her cheek that she felt it on the little hairs on her skin. Touching his lips just behind her ear, he left them there for a moment, and whispered, “I’d like to see you in them, see if that colour should be a favourite of mine, too.” And, finally, he gave her the kiss she’d wanted.
But why did she imagine herself naked like that?
Facing her, he said, “I’m a divorce lawyer. Makes for,” and he paused the slightest bit, “interesting relationships in life.”
“They all are too scared to marry you or stick around, are they?” Sarah asked.
“Who?”
“The women. Fear you’ll fuck them over?”
Sarah brought her hand to her mouth. Too bad she’d swore, and said all that before she’d thought to stop herself. What would he think of her now? “Oh my God. I didn’t … damn.”
“Hey.” He held her shoulder gently, looking up at her tilted head. “Never said I hated a girl who has a tongue on her.”
Sarah bit her lip, and allowed her eyes to gaze into his. If he kept on this way, she’d be undressed and in his bed at his command within no time.
It wasn’t like Sarah hadn’t slept with a guy within a few days of meeting him before, but she wasn’t a one-night stand girl, and she couldn’t imagine why a man as confident, sexy and capable as Malik would stick around for a little, too young girl on the first day of her job, who seemed far from his type.
She managed words, and replied, “Good to know.”
“Sarah?” he said. Knowing he was saying that—her very name—made a thrill pass over her. She wondered if he didn’t see her again, if she’d remember him saying that. The deep timbre to his voice and the way he uttered the letters.
“I’m not that kind of guy. I don’t lead a girl on, and no one has ever been hurt with unrealistic expectations or been tricked with me. I’d only ask a girl to move in with me, in the same way I’d only ask her to see a movie: if I meant it, and wanted her company.”
Damn, if that didn’t do a number on her thoughts. And as if she needed any more mind twisting from this guy. He didn’t have to do any of those tricks. She did that to herself just by being in his presence, with any type of attention he graced upon her. She knew he didn’t mean to do any of this, but Sarah had made her own mind up. She needed him to see her longer, and to see her again. And again.
She asked, feeling for clues. “And what do you expect from me?”
“You.”
“Easy to say.”
He shook his head, a little nudge from left to right. “You shouldn’t find it hard to be yourself. You’re beautiful, inside and out.”
“Ha!” she cried. “But you barely know me.”
“Well, I can tell. You caught my attention and haven’t unhooked me since. I’m just dangling, Sarah. At your mercy.”
That caught her attention. What rubbish was he saying? She was the little lovesick puppy, vying for his attention. She needed him to keep doing everything that he was doing, and more. She was just a girl, pretty enough, and easy for him.
“I want to know …”
He nodded then waited, while she chewed on her words. “Why me? What’s here,” she said, gesturing down herself, “that interests you?”
If he could work his way out of that clear hint towards physical value without stumbling or looking awkward, she’d probably believe him.
“The first thing I noticed about you was your innocence. Girls who pursue me make it blatant. You didn’t want to seem t
hat way. They ask what I do for a living in one breath and start pretending to not realise they’re rubbing their chests at me in the next breath. I deal with lots of acts in my line of work and in my life, and there was something pure in you I craved. Something like a magnet I was drawn to.”
Sarah’s eyes were big and unblinking, so Malik added, “Truly, you have no idea how many girls are ‘excited to start our lives together’.” He ticked off one finger. “I’m not even in a relationship with them when they announce this, and,” he ticks off another finger, “I may be a guy but I have brains enough to replace that bullshit with the synonym ‘house’. They move in and they get a share of my assets if they’ve stuck by me long enough.”
So not what I expected. At all.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She frowned. Who was that money hungry? “I’m just cautious with guys, is all. My dad had a long hidden affair with another woman for years, and Mum and I found out when I was a teenager. Just made me cautious of every guy since. You never know, you know? Only get one heart.”
“Gotta take care of it,” he added.
“Yep.”
His tone had changed, but Sarah couldn’t pick at exactly what it was. She watched the bus stop and realised everyone had left, and three new people were waiting now. She hadn’t noticed a thing.
Malik. Him and his charms.
It was just then she realised she knew nothing, and yet everything about this guy. She could reel off her exes jobs, cars, surnames, parents’ jobs, future aspirations. She couldn’t do all that with Malik, but she did feel more like herself than she had with any other guy. She didn’t want to shut guys out, but she hadn’t figured out how to stop hurting, or how to be herself around them.
“So, we know lots about me. What about you, Malik, divorce lawyer? Do you have a girlfriend, wife or kids?”
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