Page 90 of Tarek

“She just has to be in everything. I’m coming.” The door shuts and Ms. Johnson click-clack shoes move farther away.

My shoulders fall, and a hot puff of air leaves my body. I move my hand from Tarek’s mouth. In the darkness, I tip toe and feel for a hanging beaded chain. The light around us flickers.

Revealing a compact damp room lined with shelves. There are spray bottles, detergent containers and a neat stack of individually wrapped toilet paper. There are mops and brooms clipped to the wall, a yellow bucket is right behind Tarek’s leg. The yellow wet floor sign leans against the small industrial sink.

“My nostril may just hemorrhage from the stench of bleach,” Tarek teases.

I giggle taking in how silly we look. “It’s all about the ambience after all darling.”

“Yes, the wet dirty mop is very haute couture,” he replies, we both laugh until his hand reaches up to my face, his thumb grazing the side of my cheek.

Tarek’s gaze soften as if he was trying to work out a puzzle in his head. “I missed you,” he murmurs. The words almost sound like a question as if like me he was surprised by his own confession. Something flickers in his eyes as his gaze holds mine.

“Then you shouldn’t have left,” I reply calmly, feeling vulnerable.

* * *

TAREK

I missed her. Why the hell did I say that? What the fuck is wrong with me? Nothing, I guess. The truth is as I drove out from her house. I felt…weird, like I was doing something wrong.

Sunday is normally my rest day, I play golf or hang out with the guys, so was I just dilly dallying around the house? Even Walter watched me like something was off. I became alive when my phone dinged, and it gave me an excuse to see Penny. I wanted to see Penny because I missed her.

I nod. “You’re right. Now about the ding.”

She sighs and stomps her feet. “This is a church.”

“Exactly the perfect place to be, so our child can be blessed,” I shrug, walking up to her.

Penny folds her lips trying to hold back a laugh.

I press her against the shelves, my hands braced on the ones above her, caging her in.

“You didn’t miss me Treasure?” I ask, bending my head to get a whiff of her floral perfume.

She plays with the buttons of my dark blue shirt. Her innocent eyes hold mine. “I did.”

Two words shouldn’t have an effect on me, but I drop my hands to the side of her beige dress, rubbing her hips. I lean forward brushing my lips against hers. Her fingers grip on my t-shirt pulling me closer. She presses her lips against mine; my hands hold her lower back. I take pleasure in her small moans and the way her hands grip my hair.

Slowly I slide her dress up her legs, I hook her underwear with my thumb. I kneel not bothering to look at the state of the floor. I drag her underwear down her legs.

“Step out of them Treasure,” I command. Thankfully, she doesn’t protest. She lifts her legs, and I stuff her underwear in my pocket. I place one of her legs on the shelf.

I slip my head under the dress. She presses her hand down. “Tarek? Really?”

I come from under the dress and sit back on my knees. “God invented fucking.”

“Oh my God, Tarek.” She stares at me in amusement.

“The scripture says he told Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply. We are multiplying.” I move her hand away.

I hoist her dress to the side. “Hold this up,”

Penny grabs the dress, looking at me she tries one last time. “This is a place of prayer.”

“It’s the janitors closet.”

“Well, it’s still a place of prayer,” she whispers.

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