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ELIZABETH
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I TOOK KHALID’S HAND in mine as we got into the car. “So, what’s on our agenda?”
I wanted to ask him about Eve. Of course I did. I was convinced that she had been his wife although I still couldn’t fathom how they’d managed to have Jack.
But I bit my tongue. It wasn’t their previous marriage or whatever they had had that made me nervous. Eve was now James Mohegan’s wife. She had a darn ring on her left hand. They had two children together. I wish I could say—end of story.
But it wasn’t. She might be married to someone else, but Eve didn’t like seeing Khalid and me together. Oh, no. A glance at the counter had revealed the nature of our relationship to her, and she was jealous. Possessive. Hurt.
She’d stirred the same emotions in me.
Under different circumstances, I might have liked Eve Mohegan. My intuition was telling me she was a good person. Maybe because of her beautiful, deep amber eyes, so much like Jack’s and Rosie’s. Or maybe because I couldn’t imagine Khalid loving a mean woman.
“Let’s have lunch,” Khalid said as I pulled out of the parking lot. “There is a small restaurant around the corner.”
“I’m not hungry, but I’d like coffee,” I said, trying to sound cool. “To go. I think I’m going to decline your offer to take a day off. I want to finish some paperwork.”
He shifted in the seat, his eyes assessing my face. “What’s wrong, Elizabeth?”
You’re asking me what is wrong. What’s right? “Nothing,” I said. “If it’s going to snow soon, maybe we should hurry back.”
“We need to talk. I want to tell you about Eve. You have a right to know some things.”
Well, too bad. “I’m not sure I want to know. Not today. This is my day. I want it to be perfect.”
“Do you still want coffee?”
I shook my head. “We can go straight back.”
He stroked my cheek. The warm tide spread through me, soothing my bruised emotions. “We’re not going back,” he said. “Listen, even though you don’t want to know, I’ll tell you this: Eve is married to my best friend, James. You’ve met their son; you’ll see her daughter, as well. Eve and James love each other deeply. They are soul mates, two halves of a whole. And now, if there is anything else you want to know without knowing, ask me and I’ll tell you.”
Do you still love her? “Not today, Khalid.”
He acknowledged my decision with a quick nod. “Okay, sweeting. Don’t let it spoil our day. We saw Rosie. Something good came out of this.”
I exhaled, some of the tension leaving my body. “Yes. And I’m glad I met Eamon. He resembles Astrid as if he’s her brother, not her cousin. He seems like a nice young man. And very handsome.”
“He’s a very nice boy, yes. Now turn left. I said I’d show you the Oak Tunnel. It’s a lovely place.”
I did as he said and soon we were on the narrow country road that stretched toward the bottom of the mountains.
After about two miles, Khalid took me to the gravel road leading off the main route. If he hadn’t told me, I would have missed it. From a distance, it looked like a pathway at the beginning of the forest.
Soon it was clear why this place was called the Oak Tunnel. On both sides of the road, the upper branches of the surrounding oak trees touched and intertwined, forming a tunnel above. It was straight like an arrow, about a hundred yards long, twenty yards wide, and half of that high. The trees were bare and dark; it was the end of March. The floor was covered with yellow, dry grass and patches of snow. Strips of the grey sky were visible through the dome of the branches.
It looked like a giant, inverted nest, secluded and welcoming.
“Incredible,” I whispered, craning my neck to get a better view. “It’s like an enchanted forest. I half expect to see a unicorn walking toward us.”
Khalid took my hand in his and kissed my fingers. “You should see the Tunnel on a sunny spring day or in the autumn. It’s even more beautiful.”
“It’s magical. Oh, Khalid, thank you for taking me here.”
His lips moved to my palm and my wrist, setting all varieties of sensations in motion: the rapid beat of my heart, the sweet pulling in my womb, the rush of wetness between my legs. “My pleasure. Come closer, Elizabeth. You’re too far from me.”
I struggled to haul myself over the transmission, until Khalid grabbed me around my waist, lifted me as if I were weightless, and sat me on his lap. “Now let’s lower the seat,” he said.
The back of the seat slowly reclined down until it was aligned with the cushion, and I lay sprawled over Khalid, feeling his hard ridge nudging my lower abdomen.
I levered my head and pressed my mouth against his in a long kiss. We started undressing each other.
“What if someone comes?” I said, balancing on one knee to help Khalid take off my underpants.
He studied the tiny piece of black silk and lace in his hands with open fascination. “They make them very nice these days, don’t they? Very, very nice ... What did you ask? Aha, what if someone else wanders here? Well, nobody’s going to see your bare bum, Miss Chatwin, don’t you worry. This is a popular spot among the locals, although not so much at this time of the year. Besides, we were here first, so if another couple wanders here, they’ll turn around and leave. That’s the unwritten code among the users.”
I was approaching the moment when I wouldn’t care if somebody indeed saw my bare ass, as long as they didn’t stay to watch.
Khalid unclasped my bra. “Next time you go shopping for these things,” he said between kisses, “I wanna come with you. I need a bit of education in this area.”
His hands cupped my breasts and his fingers rubbed my nipples. When I thought I couldn’t take a bit more of this sweet torment, he lifted his head and took first one then the other hard tip into his mouth.
And then he claimed my mouth again. I was still gasping for air, lightheaded when I felt his left hand slide under my bottom, lifting me a few inches up, while he removed his jeans and boxers with his other hand.
It wasn’t the right moment to dwell on the impossible physics of his action—I weighed about 130 pounds, yet he’d lifted me as if I was made of air. Once I knew who or what the hell he was, it’d make sense.
Once free of clothing, he gently sat me back on his groin.
Bracing myself on my knees and elbows, I lifted my bum and closed my hand around his shaft, aiming between my legs.
He grabbed my hips, stopping me in mid-motion.
“Elizabeth, honey, we forgot something.”
At first, I didn’t get it, but then it dawned on me. “Oh! A condom. Where are they?”
“On the back seat. You have to fetch it. I’m pinned under you.”
I stretched to reach the plastic shopping bag with our recent purchases, opened the condom box and took one out. “I can’t believe I forgot,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, sweeting. It happens when you get carried away. Next time I might forget.”
It should never happen. The last thing I wanted was for Khalid to think I was careless with pregnancy protection. I didn’t think I was overly fertile—generation after generation of women in my family, otherwise as healthy as they come, had had a hard time conceiving. I’d never attempted to challenge my assumed low fertility with anyone, however, and I wouldn’t do it with Khalid.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated.
He pulled himself up on an elbow and lifting my chin with his other hand, studied my face. “What’s wrong? Did I say something I shouldn’t?”
I shook my head and smiled. “No, no. Everything’s fine.”
“Then roll that rubber on and take me in. I’m dying to feel you around me.”
“You’re okay down there?” I asked.
“I’m well, thank you for asking, although somewhat restricted in my movements, so you’ll need to do the job, Miss Chatwin. If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” I said with a chuckle and ripped the wrapping open, my good mood restored.
As soon as the condom was on, he grabbed me around my waist, lifted me slightly and lowered me onto him, with great care and great passion, and pushed inside. Gentle impaling, I would call it.
I leaned forward, closed my mouth over his. In spite of the fast-building pressure that started rising from the depths of my womb, I moved in slow motions.
Khalid groaned. “Take me, sweeting. Take all of me.”
He grew bigger and harder inside me. He tightened his grip on my hips, leaving me in charge yet relieving the pressure on my muscles caused by the limited space and our position.
He whispered hot, sexy words into my ear.
Our breathing became erratic, our moans louder and deeper. We were both close to climax. Khalid slid his hand between us, found my clitoris and rubbed it with his thumb, taking us both over the edge almost at the same moment.
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SOME TIME PASSED. I lay splayed over Khalid, sated, happy, complete. Nose buried in the hollow at the base of his neck, I breathed him in.
He was still inside me, thick and strong, sealed. The sensation was as fascinating as the warm current of his touch. We didn’t talk, savoring a moment of complete intimacy. Khalid reached for his shirt and draped it over my back. And then, kissing the crown of my head, he closed his arms around me.
Outside, the wind was picking up, and the sky looked ready to pitch a fit.
My eyelids were heavier and heavier.
Khalid knows how to make a woman feel like a woman. He’s a great kisser. I love what he does with his hands and his mouth. And I love that he’s still locked inside me.
Locked ...
Unable to breach the barrier, my brain gave up and I faded into blissful oblivion.
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THERE WAS NO LOVELIER way to be awakened than with kisses.
I was stiff but warm and safe, Khalid’s solid body under mine.
I opened my eyes and looked through the window. The snow was falling thick and fast.
“How long did I sleep?” I murmured against his lips, my voice thick and drowsy.
“About one hour,” Khalid said.
His lips touched my hair and my temple before they found my mouth, claiming it with a tender kiss. “I would’ve let you continue, but the storm is pushing in, sweeting. It’s time to go.”
I sighed. “It’s so nice here. I could stay forever.”
Our mouths touched. He tasted so good, and I was hungry for more.
“Darn storm.” I frowned and separated my lips from Khalid’s. “Let’s go, then.”
Khalid glanced at the sky, a sly smile on his lips. “I guess we have time for one last quickie.”
The next moment I was lying on my back, Khalid on top of me.
“For the love of god, how did you do that?” I asked, looking up at him.
He chuckled. “Do what?” He took another condom from the box, opened it and rolled it on. “I just flipped us. As much as I loved your being atop, you’re too drowsy for another go.”
It was fast and hot. Delicious.
Later, while we still held each other, Khalid vacuum-sealed inside me, his middle finger reached between my legs, pressed firmly right above my clitoris and slowly slid out.
He had done that once already, last night. So, he was locked inside and that was a sort of emergency unlocking.
Should I ask him for an explanation or should I not?
No, better not. Today was my day. Nothing would cast a shadow over it.
I watched as he removed the condom. His cock was semi-hard, long and thick, the ruddy bulbous head glistening. It looked like a cock should look immediately after ejaculation. I glanced at it once more but couldn’t spot any extra feature that would explain the additional swelling and locking.
And then my heart skipped a beat.
Bulbous head. Locking.
Bulbus glandis. Knot.
I closed my eyes, wishing I could drift back to sleep.
Unaware of the little drama inside my head, Khalid shifted himself into the driver’s seat, presumably to make room for me to get dressed. Or better, he leaped there (like a cat or something; it had happened in the blink of an eye and my memory couldn’t rewind it) and collected our scattered clothing.
As we dressed, I lowered the window, letting in fresh air and a gush of snow. I took several long gulps to clear my head, still hazy with sleep, recent mind-shattering orgasms and a touch of panic caused by the questions to which I guessed the answers.
Khalid turned on the ignition, shifted the transmission into first gear and the car moved smoothly.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I asked. “Let me drive.”
“It’s okay, honey. I know I can.”
I nodded. The time had come for Khalid to claim another part of his before-the-accident life, and I was happy for him.
We exited the Oak Tunnel, continued on the gravel road for a while and then U-turned left, toward the main road.
“You’re not afraid, are you?” he asked, confident and relaxed.
I shook my head. “No, Khalid Nouri, I’m not. I would let you drive me to the end of the world and back.”
His hand reached out and stroked my cheek. “You came, and you put so many things back in their place. I thank you for that, Elizabeth.”
“I’m glad I came,” I said softly, touched by his words. “I like it here.”
“Then stay.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d said that, but he’d never clarified in which capacity I would stay. What was I? A girlfriend? A lover? A partner? All of the above or none of the above? What about my job, my career, my entire life? Was I ready to give it up? And what would happen when I finally learned his true identity?
I didn’t reply. I focused my eyes on his strong, confident hands and busied my mind with different thoughts. When was the last time he had driven a car? From what I could see, it seemed it had been yesterday. But how long exactly had his recovery lasted?
The more I learned about this man, the less I knew.
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WE WERE HOME IN THIRTY minutes, twice as long as it would have normally taken. Khalid had to drive slowly. The snow was falling thickly, and the wind was picking up. As we emerged from the garage, Harriet opened the entrance door and waved at us. Zana did the same from the window, smiling. Luna surged out through the open door and greeted us with barking and jumping.
For a moment, I felt as if I were coming home. And here lay the answer to Khalid’s question: Yes, I would stay here if the tinselhouse became my home.
It depended on a man walking beside me, though.
As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Khalid looked at me and smiled. And then scooped me off my feet and ran to the house.
Maybe the tinselhouse would become my home, after all.