Page 27 of The Sheikh's Temporary Girlfriend

She was fighting to stay awake when he returned as nude as he’d departed, completely unselfconscious. Little wonder. Not only did he have the muscled body of a demigod, his cock was large even when it was deflated from sex.

She’d never been so sated in her life, the aftereffect of sex better than any drug or sweet lullaby to make her fall to sleep. But then being joined with him had transcended anything she’d experienced in the past. Sex with other men had been lackluster at best.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?” he asked huskily, his eyes drinking her in. “You have an after-sex glow that makes me want to claim you all over again.” As if proving his theory, his cock jerked and thickened, ready for another round.

He joined her on top of the covers, the bedroom light still glowing above as he turned to her and touched the left side of his chest, stating softly, “You’re getting to me right in here.”

It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was more than enough for her. It’d only been four days since she’d spilled wine all over him and already their feelings were growing deep. How much deeper would they get once her seven day contract was completed?

He drew her close and kissed her, and this time it was slow, tender and gentle. He pulled back. “As much as I’d love a repeat performance, you need your sleep,” he said huskily. His lazy smile belied the passion behind his eyes. “You’ll be glad to know you can sleep in tomorrow morning though.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve got meetings planned for most of the day, ones I can’t get out of. My people don’t appreciate it when my grand vizier takes my place to dish out advice.”

“Do you ever stop being a sheikh?” she asked drowsily.

“Not often. Despite what many people believe, I serve my country and its people, not the other way around.”

Her lashes trembled, then swept closed, his words echoing in her ears even as darkness finally claimed her.

*

She was running downstairs, her tiny feet slapping against the wooden steps. Thanks to the laughter and noise from the lounge room, she hadn’t been able to get to sleep. But she was nine years old now, big enough to ask everyone to please be quiet.

She was halfway through the aged kitchen when she wrinkled her nose, her nostrils stinging. She’d been noticing the distinct smell on and off for weeks now. It was disgusting, like burned plastic or rubber.

She pushed open the door to a cloud of smoke billowing into her face. She choked and coughed, her eyes watering as she blinked and forced back a sudden desire to run far away. Instead she focused inside the room.

Her dad was sucking on some kind of pipe, inhaling deeply before he passed it to his friend. She turned to her mother. She was wild-eyed and frazzled, her tone sharp when she spoke. “Amber, what are you doing down here? It’s your bedtime!”

Amber gaped. Her mom’s eyes didn’t look right, her dad glaring balefully at her now with cold, red eyes.

“What are you staring at girl?” her dad slurred, picking up a glass bottle with reddish-brown liquid in and taking a mouthful from it. “I served my country. I have every right now to live my life how I want to. Now get back up to bed before my good mood disappears.”

“Go on then,” her mom added. “Scoot!”

Amber didn’t stick around to argue. Her eyes were stinging from the horrid smoke, or was it from the tears knowing she and Zach would be taking care of themselves again for the next few days? There’d be no packed lunches, no ironed uniforms, just angry and hateful parents.

She pushed shut the door and turned away. As she stomped up the stairs she knew one thing was sure. When she grew up she was never going to be like her mom or dad.

Chapter Thirteen

She woke the next day aware Basam was long gone. That he’d woken her earlier in the morning to his drugging kisses that had soon turned to licking and sucking at her most intimate place was something that, even now, thrilled her to the marrow of her bones.

She’d climaxed hard and fast under his mouth, then he’d kissed her with the taste of her orgasm on his mouth before he’d turned her onto her stomach and taken her from behind, pumping into her like a machine on steroids.

He’d been insatiable.

He’d made her nightmare fade as if it’d never been from the moment he’d kissed her awake. But now she was left wondering if maybe shehadinherited her parents’ unhealthy addiction. If her mom and dad had been addicted to drugs and booze, and her brother was addicted to gambling, then she just might be addicted to Basam.

She grinned sleepily. There were worse habits to have. Maybe tonight it’d be her turn to pleasure him. She’d take him into her mouth and make him fall apart just like he’d made her fall apart.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She climbed out of bed and grabbed an abaya out of her closet and dragged it on. A pity there was no time to pin back her bedroom hair or at least make it half-presentable. She probably looked exactly how she felt—like she’d been thoroughly fucked half the night.

She padded to the front door and swung it open to a young boy who looked a little fearfully at the guards standing guard either side of her door. “Hello there,” she said with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

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