ROMANCE: Sleeping With The Sheikh (Billionaire Alpha Male Sheikh Romance) (New Adult Forbidden Series Short Stories) by Kylie Knight Page A
Authors: Kylie Knight
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from her husband. But that was a useless, futile wish. He would never see her like that, but Farhid?
“I notice you, Clarice.”
His hand slid across the table towards her, but stopped only half way, palm up, waiting. He stared into her eyes and willed her to want him as he wanted her. She could feel the pull of his desire and she knew that somewhere inside her, she had the desire to match. Hesitantly, knowing how foolish this was, how dangerous this was, Clarice slid her hand into his warm one.
***
They spent the rest of the day talking and most of the evening. Farhid told her of Djamila who he thought was a lovely woman, but not the kind he wanted to spend his life with. How it had been an arranged marriage wrapped up more in politics than anything else, and how he had dreamed and wished for something like passion to overtake his life.
He never would have imagined that it would come in the form of a beautiful American woman.
Clarice told him of her efforts in the charity. She wanted to make a difference in other people’s lives, wished that she had always been able to do so, but sometimes she felt like she was incredibly ineffective. She told him of her background as a poor waitress in a little town in the middle of nowhere. How she had dreamed for years of getting away. And then Donald had given her that.
By the time Rosie’s Coffee Pot had closed, Clarice felt more comfortable with Farhid than she had felt with anyone in a long time. It was such a nice change to talk with someone who was interested in her and her thoughts. Donald hadn’t given her that in years, if ever truly.
“Must this be when we part?” Farhid asked her, his eyes still shining with that intensity that she’d seen the moment they had met. It still shocked her even after as long as they’d spent just talking.
She bit her lip. The answer should be yes, it is, but she couldn’t make herself say it. She didn’t want the night to end, not yet, and she didn’t know how much more time she would get with Farhid. When would he return home? And when he did, would she ever see him again?
“No,” she told him in a small, whispered voice. “It doesn’t have to be.”
The smile that lit his face was brighter than any she’d seen before. He slipped his hand in hers and said, “Where do you want to go? I will take you anywhere?”
They end up walking around, site-seeing some of the less well known pieces of New York City. The places that weren’t for tourists so much as for the locals. Some were clubs that they didn’t bother spending time in while some were restaurants like Rosie’s, but open much later. Some were parks that overlooked the water or just old houses that had been there for what seemed like forever.
All the while, they talked. Talked about Qatar and what it was like to be a prince. About Iowa and how nothing ever seemed to happen there.
But they didn’t talk about Donald or Djamila anymore. They focused on each other, willing that to be the only thing that mattered, even if it was something that could only last for the night. And it did. All night.
By the time they’d stopped exploring, they had found a park bench overlooking the water. They sat there and watched the sun rise as the first joggers of the morning began their run.
It was beautiful and Clarice didn’t feel upset or scared to be resting her head against Farhid’s shoulders, nor did she think it was wrong for him to hold her tightly in his arm, letting some of his warmth soak into her.
If anything, it was one of the most perfect moments Clarice had ever had and she never wanted it to end.
It did, of course, and they both made their way home. Farhid escorted Clarice and he made her promise to see him again. And this time when his lips pressed fiercely against his, she didn’t resist. She let herself melt against his body as heat flooded hers, her eyes fluttering closed at the sensations that overtook her. This was how a kiss was supposed to feel.
When
“I notice you, Clarice.”
His hand slid across the table towards her, but stopped only half way, palm up, waiting. He stared into her eyes and willed her to want him as he wanted her. She could feel the pull of his desire and she knew that somewhere inside her, she had the desire to match. Hesitantly, knowing how foolish this was, how dangerous this was, Clarice slid her hand into his warm one.
***
They spent the rest of the day talking and most of the evening. Farhid told her of Djamila who he thought was a lovely woman, but not the kind he wanted to spend his life with. How it had been an arranged marriage wrapped up more in politics than anything else, and how he had dreamed and wished for something like passion to overtake his life.
He never would have imagined that it would come in the form of a beautiful American woman.
Clarice told him of her efforts in the charity. She wanted to make a difference in other people’s lives, wished that she had always been able to do so, but sometimes she felt like she was incredibly ineffective. She told him of her background as a poor waitress in a little town in the middle of nowhere. How she had dreamed for years of getting away. And then Donald had given her that.
By the time Rosie’s Coffee Pot had closed, Clarice felt more comfortable with Farhid than she had felt with anyone in a long time. It was such a nice change to talk with someone who was interested in her and her thoughts. Donald hadn’t given her that in years, if ever truly.
“Must this be when we part?” Farhid asked her, his eyes still shining with that intensity that she’d seen the moment they had met. It still shocked her even after as long as they’d spent just talking.
She bit her lip. The answer should be yes, it is, but she couldn’t make herself say it. She didn’t want the night to end, not yet, and she didn’t know how much more time she would get with Farhid. When would he return home? And when he did, would she ever see him again?
“No,” she told him in a small, whispered voice. “It doesn’t have to be.”
The smile that lit his face was brighter than any she’d seen before. He slipped his hand in hers and said, “Where do you want to go? I will take you anywhere?”
They end up walking around, site-seeing some of the less well known pieces of New York City. The places that weren’t for tourists so much as for the locals. Some were clubs that they didn’t bother spending time in while some were restaurants like Rosie’s, but open much later. Some were parks that overlooked the water or just old houses that had been there for what seemed like forever.
All the while, they talked. Talked about Qatar and what it was like to be a prince. About Iowa and how nothing ever seemed to happen there.
But they didn’t talk about Donald or Djamila anymore. They focused on each other, willing that to be the only thing that mattered, even if it was something that could only last for the night. And it did. All night.
By the time they’d stopped exploring, they had found a park bench overlooking the water. They sat there and watched the sun rise as the first joggers of the morning began their run.
It was beautiful and Clarice didn’t feel upset or scared to be resting her head against Farhid’s shoulders, nor did she think it was wrong for him to hold her tightly in his arm, letting some of his warmth soak into her.
If anything, it was one of the most perfect moments Clarice had ever had and she never wanted it to end.
It did, of course, and they both made their way home. Farhid escorted Clarice and he made her promise to see him again. And this time when his lips pressed fiercely against his, she didn’t resist. She let herself melt against his body as heat flooded hers, her eyes fluttering closed at the sensations that overtook her. This was how a kiss was supposed to feel.
When
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