Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 22608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Through him.
And it's making me lose my mind.
Aaaaaaah.
Everything about this is so impossibly twisted.
But I just can't make myself care because of the way Zahir is pleasuring me with his finger.
Aaaaaah.
It's all I can do not to scream as he pinches my nipple, and I just...
I just can't.
Even when it's so, so wrong for Jamieson to not know he's having sex with a corpse—-
Or that I'm hiding in the closet while watching him—-
I just can't make myself care.
Because the way Zahir is touching me is my every shameful fantasy coming to life.
And so when he whispers into my ear—-
"Kiss me."
Tears roll down my cheeks even as I turn my face to his.
His tongue thrusts inside my mouth just as I feel his fingers pinch my secret nub of flesh, and my tears are falling faster than ever.
Because I'm coming for the first time.
And I don't understand it.
I just don't.
How can a man I've just met make me feel oh so alive?
And why can he make me lose control the way Jamieson never could?
Chapter Six
I'M NOT SURE HOW MUCH time has passed as I watch Zahir open the closet doors without making a sound.
Rebecca is in the shower while Jamieson is still in bed.
Snoring.
My mind is still a complete blur as I let Zahir carefully pull me out, and all I can do is follow him blindly as he leads me out of the room.
I feel like we're playing a scene straight out of a movie.
I'm just not sure which.
Maybe something with intruders.
Or adulterers.
Or is there a movie that has both?
Zahir closes the door behind him, and no one comes after us. It's as if we were never there at all. Stealth seems to come so naturally to him that he makes Jeffrey Dahmer look clumsy—-
But that's nothing to be worried about, I remind myself.
Zahir is Special Ops, not a serial killer, and...and...oh my God!
What if he's just lying about being in the army, and...and...God, God, God!
Why must I think of these things just when I'm now trapped inside an elevator with him?
"Is everything alright?"
A serial killer would never care to ask that.
Right?
He takes a step towards me.
But stops when he sees me plaster myself against the wall.
"What's wrong?"
"N-Nothing."
"Something obviously is if you're lying—-"
The elevator doors open while he's speaking, and I don't hesitate to jump out. The hotel's fitness center is right in front of me.
People are everywhere, ergo I'm safe.
People are everywhere, and that's why—-
"What are we doing here?"
I tumble back in shock at hearing him whisper in my ear, and I don't know whether to feel relieved or scared that his reflexes are so spectacularly quick that he's able to pull me back with ease.
He spins me around to face him, and—-
"H-HOW DO I KNOW YOU'RE really who you say you are?"
I just go right ahead and ask it, and Zahir releases me with a shake of his head.
"That's what's been bothering you?"
He takes his wallet out and flips it open.
"Is that enough?"
A military ID with his photo...
Under the name of Zahir Al-Harbi...
And issued by the Royal Army of the Kingdom of Kivr.
It looks legit, too, but...
"How do I know that's real?"
He puts his wallet back in his pocket and takes his phone out next.
"Call the Kivran embassy. Let them know you're with me."
He sounds so calm.
But because I know it's also possible he's trying to bluff his way out of this—-
I snatch his phone out of his hands. "I'll do just that," I warn him.
"Please do."
I look it up on Google and show him the embassy's website. "I'm really going to do it."
"When someone answers, just say you're with me, and that you want them to access the cameras on the 8th floor of Upper Aehrenthal."
My stomach cramps as the phone starts to ring.
"Michael Toole of the Embassy of Kivr. How may I help you?"
"I...I'm with Z-Zahir Al-Harbi."
I wait for the other person on the other end of the line to say something, but he doesn't.
"And...and he says he wants you to access the cameras on the 8th floor of Upper Aehrenthal."
I hear typing in the background.
"This is the hotel in Amsterdam, correct?"
"Yes."
"May I know who's on the line?"
"C-Can I say no?"
"May I know how you wish to be addressed?"
"Just..."
"Understood, Ms. Just."
"Oh, that's not—-"
"May I ask for Sheikh Zahir's passcode?"
Did I just hear him address Zahir as...Sheikh?
"If he's asking you for the passcode, tell him the eagle remains in his territory."
"Passcode accepted," Michael confirms even without me having to repeat a single word. "May I ask for five seconds to process your request?"
"I...yes." A sheikh. Is Zahir really a sheikh?
"Access obtained."
And that's when I see the security camera right above us actually turn in our direction.
"Presence of Sheikh Zahir Al-Harbi confirmed."
Oh God, he really is a sheikh!
"Is there anything else, Ms. Just?"
I look at Zahir.
"Tell him that's all."