24 SAM
I wandered aimlessly through the city. The afternoon was fading when I realized I was standing in front of a small chapel. Nothing grand compared to the great cathedrals of New Cairo.
I slipped inside without any particular purpose and sat near the exit. The place was empty, except for a woman lighting candles near the altar.
It had been a long time since I’d set foot in one of these. I used to come every Sunday with Abuela Carmelita. The last time I was in a church was when I learned she’d passed. As hard as it was growing up without my parents, having Abuela was my salvation.
I knelt on the kneeler, something I hadn’t done in years, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I started praying for Omar’s soul, and before I knew it, I’d fallen into a long conversation with God.
I’d always considered myself close to God, in a way that used to irritate Abuela. I had honest conversations, free of rituals I saw as just a way to exclude those who weren’t literate.
But over time, with adolescence bombarding my body with hormones and a rage I couldn’t put into words, I rebelled against him for never answering my prayers. For never bringing my parents back.
At some point, I stopped asking for his blessing and started wishing he’d just spare me his great lessons.
Then Abuela passed. I found out almost a day later, and everything I’d been through up to that point suddenly seemed meaningless. I felt punished again, even though I was only trying to do the right thing. And I sank into a darkness I’d never known before.
It’s hard to think of her and not cry. To face the emptiness of having no history left. Everything I had died with her, and that’s a hard truth to swallow.
“God… help me see what I can’t. I want to believe… I want to feel your purpose in everything… but it’s so hard.” Tears dropped onto the reddish wood before me.
I prayed for the souls of everyone we’d lost and lit a candle for Mr. Omar. As I left the chapel, my phone rang, and I stared at the name on the screen. My body froze.
“Sutekh,” I answered.
“Sam! Damn. I’ve been trying to reach you for days.” I may have ignored one or twelve of his messages in recent weeks. “I was shocked when I saw the news about Robert on TV.”
“Yeah. It was a crazy situation.”
“Were you together when it happened?” he asked from the other end of the line.
“What? No. No!” I said quickly. “I… he didn’t show up.”
“Damn.” Sutekh was an Egyptian history student.
He interned at an American company and sometimes got me appraisal jobs.
Traveling around Egypt chasing ghosts was expensive, and I didn’t always have the cash to cover it.
“I was super worried when I couldn’t reach you after that night.
I felt guilty for not being able to stay with you the whole time. ”
“It’s okay. Sutekh… I really needed to talk to you,” I said. “The car you sent me… do you know the driver’s name? I think I left my glasses in the car.”
“Car?”
“Yeah, man. The driver said you asked him to pick me up.”
“Me? I was tied up at the museum for a few hours, organizing the new exhibition. I was relieved when you called because I’d completely forgotten.”
“Maybe I misunderstood. Look, I need to go.” I tried to cut the call short. “It was great talking to you.”
“Ahh, sure. I’ll stop by the antique shop one of these days. I have another client who wants you to appraise a piece! Hugs, Sam! Miss you.”
“Bye, Sutekh.”
When the call ended, my heart was pounding in my chest. I had to lean against the exit railing and catch my breath before I could walk again.
It was pretty dark, and I felt strangely terrified even though I’d walked through this city at much later hours than this.
I decided to take a taxi instead of walking back. I wanted to be home as fast as possible. Back with Connor as fast as possible. To feel safe and protected in a way only he could make me feel.
About fifteen minutes later, I got out in the alley. I hurried down the street to the apartment entrance. I was so agitated that I fumbled with the key several times—it felt completely wrong, even though I’d done this plenty of times before.
I ran up the stairs and threw open the door. Connor was pacing back and forth and looked relieved when I came through.
“Sam!” He ran over and hugged me, kissing my head, my face, my lips over and over. “Fuck, Sam! Where the hell were you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I jumped into his arms. “I’m here now.”
I kissed him desperately, as if it were the antidote to all the anguish in my chest. As if I needed the air from his lungs to breathe again.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured with his lips pressed to mine. “This case, I…”
“Connor, shut up,” I interrupted. “Please… I need you to make me forget this chaos again.”
He stared into my eyes, one hand supporting my ass, the other cupping the back of my neck.
“Fuck it.” He slammed my back against the wall behind me, and some of my pictures fell. Connor pressed his body against mine, pinning me to the wall. It was almost suffocating, but not in a bad way.
His mouth kept leaving mine to explore my neck, my collarbone, biting at my clothes as if he could tear them off with his teeth.
Our bodies crashed into the few pieces of furniture in the apartment, leaving chaos in our wake. When he pushed harder, my mischievous smile was all the encouragement he needed to keep going. I wanted this version of him. His shadows.
When we reached the bed, I climbed on top of him and tore off my clothes while he sucked and bit every inch of exposed skin. He quickly shed his pants, leaving himself completely naked beneath me. It was thrilling to see his eyes—a mix of lust and fury.
“Give me everything you've got, Connor,” I moaned as his mouth closed around my breast and his tongue teased my nipple.
“Be careful what you wish for, Samantha,” he growled, sinking his teeth into my flesh. I buried my hands in his hair and pulled his head back.
“You said I'm easy to read… Do you see any hesitation in my eyes?” I ran my tongue over his lips. Connor's beard made his kisses feel so much more primal. My skin had grown so sensitive it verged on painful, but the sensation was still addictive.
“What I'm seeing…” he pushed me down, pinning me beneath him, “is that we're both playing a dangerous game.”
He began a slow trail of kisses, heavy with anticipation, toward my mound, where he nipped before burying his face between my legs.
If his beard made an impact on my skin, between my legs it set me on fire.
Each movement of his lips combined the softness of his tongue with the roughness of his stubble.
A sensation I'd never known the power of until now—and I was eager to discover just how far it could go.
Connor sucked, bit, dragged his tongue, pressed. His arsenal seemed endless, and my undoing was only a matter of time. Time I hoped would stretch on forever.
Sex with Connor last night had carried a certain restraint because of where we were, a tension, a caution that now seemed completely forgotten. As if last night had been the deluxe version, and now he was giving me the extended cut packed with all the greatest hits.
When his cock slid inside me after multiple orgasms, he seemed like he'd barely started. His cock was rock-solid, as if made of concrete, yet burning hot, as if it had just reached its melting point.
His hips rocked back and forth, driving into me so hard the bed was doing its best to hold together. I was so soaked we could hear the wet sounds of our bodies meeting.
I moaned, howled, growled, and made sounds I didn't even know I was capable of. My fingers were so tense they wouldn't uncurl, and my thighs felt ready to explode from trembling under the pressure.
When I was about to reach the peak, he'd pull back, stopping me just a second before I could explode. It was like my body kept making false starts toward the finish line.
He pulled me to the edge of the bed and tucked a pillow underneath me, tilting my ass upward. I arched my back as best I could just as he landed a hard slap on my ass.
His fingers wrapped in my hair, pulling my head back. His body pressed down on mine as he growled in my ear.
“Look at me.”
I obeyed, looking over my shoulder. I watched him slick his cock against my slit before sinking into my ass. The initial pain soon gave way to a feeling of fullness. Of an almost forbidden pleasure.
“Don't forget you were the one who asked for this,” he said, thrusting again. I grabbed the covers with all my strength. I lowered my head, but he pulled me back. “I told you to look at me.”
Then he thrust again and again. I pressed my cheek to the bed, keeping my eyes on him. My fingers slipped beneath me and found my pussy. I felt my clit, swollen and slick between my fingers, and moaned, my body clenching. He landed another slap.
“Oh God,” I moaned as his hand joined mine, pressing us both against my swollen flesh. I pushed my ass back against him, begging for more, and he growled.
“That's it… be a good girl and I'll give you everything you want.” The sound of our bodies colliding echoed through the small apartment. I began to throb and clench around him, and he filled me, his fingers taking up every remaining space.
I bit the covers as the electric shock hit me and I came in every way possible. He held me through my spasms so I couldn't escape. So my torture would last longer. Until he finally collapsed on top of me, his cock pulsing out its last release still inside me.
And for a while after that, we savored the addictive peace of belonging to each other. Of shrinking our world down to the small space of our intertwined arms and legs. A disturbing peace, considering we were closer to the end than the beginning, and soon everything could crumble.
I curled up in his lap and let myself stop overthinking for once. I let myself be completely present. But I had no idea how bad this would be for me soon. Very soon.