Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 19307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Aaaaargh.
Hal is just so perfect, dammit. Why won't my heart skip a beat for him instead of His Royal Assness?
Hal offers his hand. "Deal?"
I force myself to smile back as I shake his hand. "Deal."
Just as Hal asks if I want wine to go with our steaks, my phone vibrates with another message.
Choose now, Seven. I don't like being kept waiting.
I put my phone back in my purse and shake my head at Hal. "Water's fine. I'm not much of a drinker."
"Totally fine," Hal readily assures me, "since I'm no heavy drinker myself—-" Hal stops speaking when his phone starts to ring, and my eyes widen when I see an unlisted number flash in his screen.
Shit, shit, shit.
That can only be Sheikh Saif. Can't it?
Hal frowns. "I wonder if it's from work."
Panic makes me move in lightning speed, and Hal is left blinking at me in surprise when I swipe his phone out of his hand just to the call.
"It's a virus," I explain lamely as I hand his phone back to him. "I had a call just like it before."
Hal shakes his head. "Seriously? I know about viruses in text messages and emails, but phone calls?"
"Yeah, well, um, you know the Internet." I change the subject right after, asking brightly, "So, shall we dig in...friend?"
Hal grins. "Yes, we shall...friend."
I take a forkful of salad first...just so I can use my other hand to hide my phone under the table while testing. Don't call him! You win, okay?
Shall we start playing our little game then?
I have no idea what stupid game the sheikh has in mind—-
Let's start with a game of musical chairs. I want you to switch places with the boy.
But I'm certain it's going to be sick and twisted—-
I want to see the look on your face while you slowly open your legs in my direction and feel the air play with your sweet, virginal flesh.
And I'm right.
"Seven?" Hal looks at me, and I realize I still have my fork hanging mid-air. "Are you alright?"
"I'm alright, I just..." I just...I just can't think of an excuse so I simply blurt it out. "I just realized I'd like us to switch places?"
"Uh." Hal looks bemused, and I can't blame him. "Alright."
We switch places and swap plates, and as soon as I'm facing the sheikh's direction, his next message comes in.
Are you starting to get wet?
My gaze flies to his, and the moment I see the sheikh's lips start to curve, that's when I feel it.
Shit.
I am wet, and it's all because of him, dammit.
I think you are.
Hal starts talking about work, and I struggle to answer coherently even as I keep getting wetter and wetter. But the moment I try to close my legs—-
Keep your legs open. I'm still not done enjoying the view.
And just like that, what's supposed to be a relaxing dinner with a friend becomes the longest night in hell. I do my best to enjoy my time with Hal, but with the sheikh's golden gaze devouring me from the next table, all I can think about is how I keep getting wetter and wetter between my legs.
Guilt and desire wars inside of me, and I'm torn between moaning and begging for Hal's forgiveness. Everything about this is so wickedly wrong, and I'm close to crying in relief when Hal finally pays for our check.
Oh, thank God!
In the corner of my eye, I see the sheikh calmly sipping his tea as Hal and I rise from our chairs.
"Can I take you home...as a friend?"
"I'll have to say no...as a friend."
Hal clutches his heart like I've stabbed him, and I can't help but laugh.
"If that's the case, Seven, then I guess I'll just have to say sorry—-"
"For what?"
He answers me in the next moment, with Hal's lips brushing over mine in a lightning-quick kiss.
Shit.
Hal pulls back with a grin. "For that."
Shit, shit, shit.
I can only smile weakly, and I don't dare look back even as I feel the sheikh's gaze start burning holes through my back.
Just keep walking, Seven.
My Uber comes to pick me up, and my phone buzzes as soon as I slide into the backseat.
I guess you like to be punished.
Shit, shit, shit.
The rest of the ride home is a blur, with my feelings seesawing between fear and excitement. I know it's stupid, but I think the sheikh is right.
I do like to be punished, except...
Chapter Five
The nerve of him!
It's another day at work, and it's a struggle to cheerfully greet the VIPs while I'm royally pissed at a certain sheikh. I was barely able to sleep a wink last night, and I only realized that was my punishment when I still don't hear a peep out of him come morning.
Grrrr!
Does he think going AWOL will make me miss him? He might have made my body ache for hours, but it only means he's good at seducing women. I bet I'd have absolutely the same reaction, if someone else were to play with my body like he does.