Chapter 3
Startled, Soraya straightened slightly and looked over her shoulder. She felt a riot of butterflies break loose in her stomach.
A man—no, a giant with dark brunette hair pulled back from his face and a noticeable, strong, chiseled jaw—towered behind her. He stood so close that she could feel the heat rolling off him, warming her right through the skin-tight dress she wore.
Was he talking to her?
Yes. The man was obviously trying to get to the bar. And it gave Soraya the perfect opening to acquaint herself with him.
She raised an eyebrow at him, her insecurities vanishing like a puff of smoke. “Sorry, but you need a password for bar access.” She turned her back on him and waited.
She didn’t hear him so much, but she felt his body rumble with a silent laugh, which made Soraya smile as she took another sip of her nectar.
“Honey shortcakes?” Soraya nearly jumped at the timbre of his voice right next to her ear. She managed to swallow her drink before she spat it out in surprise. Once she composed herself, she replied in a businesslike tone, “Not even close.”
He hummed, making her body tighten. Before she could fully process what the effect of his humming was doing to her, he placed a scorching hand on her lower back and put his mouth even closer to her ear to whisper, “Are you going to make me beg for a drink, my lady?” His hand moved slowly up her spine, causing ripples of tingling pleasure to erupt in the wake of his touch.
“I absolutely would—right in front of everyone here. Is that what you want?”
A shiver he no doubt felt coursed through her body, making certain parts of her turn liquid.
She swallowed. Hard.
The audacity of this man!
Trying to keep her composure, as if she didn’t almost come from his dark promise and even darker touch, she hooded her eyes and turned, bringing her lips a breath away from his. Two can play at this game.
Peering into his amber eyes, she noticed a spark of thrill light up within them as she gave him a measured look.
“You can if you want, but I’m afraid that wouldn’t be the answer either.
” She shrugged, sweeping her gaze over his body.
“I guess you really don’t want a drink after all.
Maybe you should go somewhere else to…satisfy your needs. ”
Smirking, she stepped free from his touch and smoothly sipped her drink as his hand fell away. He didn’t move an inch but purred, “What a cruel female you are.”
She glanced at him, enjoying how he looked at her—as if he were going to devour her on the spot, which she wouldn’t mind. “Me? Wicked?” She feigned outrage. “What are you going to do about it, babe?
He slowly straightened, and Soraya’s stomach tightened, hoping against hope that her confidence didn’t scare him off. Perhaps that’s why she felt an absolute rush of pleasure when he reached out a hand to her. “If you come with me, I can show you.”
Her eyes flicked to his, and it was his turn to smirk. “Babe,” he shot back at her, both a challenge and a taunt. A careless smile spread across his lips as she raised a single eyebrow at him. He was toying with her as if he expected her to reject his offer.
Before giving it a second thought, she took his hand. A wicked smile was his only answer before he turned without another word to spirit her away.
She glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of Ahvi’s shocked face, but her friend didn’t try to stop her. Probably just amazed Soraya was able to find someone so quickly. Meanwhile, Jesmine was too busy necking with the two men she had been talking with earlier to care where Soraya was off to.
As she turned away from the bar, what was even more curious was the equally shocked faces of the other patrons whose gazes slid to the man, then to her.
Soraya brushed it off. He was easily the hottest man in the place, and she couldn’t believe he was now taking her back to…well…she didn’t know where, and she didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking.
There was no way this man was a murderer. Right? He led her not to the stairs but deeper into the third floor, where Soraya had overlooked a curtained-off doorway.
Wait a minute.
Soraya’s cheeks heated. Was he…taking her to the restroom?
Images of herself bent over and gripping the stall door as he pounded into her from behind flashed through her mind, and the thought did not, in any way, turn her on.
Being taken in a restroom? No, no way. It wasn’t sanitary. She would stop him. She would.
But who was she kidding? She had been desperate for some action, to the point that she had been running her poor vibrator ragged for the past two weeks.
Both Jesmine and Ahvi had been giving her shit for it non-stop since their walls were practically made out of paper.
If a quickie in a bathroom stall gave her some relief… would she take it?
She examined his broad back, noting how his dark green vest over a cream-colored shirt was tapered in all the right places. Her gaze dropped lower, landing on his tight ass.
No man should have an ass like that. It wasn’t fair to all the women who had to go without. Not that she went without, that was for certain, but she still felt for the smaller-bootie women like Jesmine who lament their tiny, but cute, backsides.
Sighing internally, Soraya realized she would indeed take it. But only this once.
Stepping through the curtain, she was surprised to find a long, dimly lit hallway, illuminated by sconces mounted high on the walls.
How big is this place? she thought.
She wasn’t sure where he was taking her as they walked down the carpet. The thumping club music grew quieter and quieter with each passing step. Abruptly, he turned into another hallway she hadn’t noticed was there.
Immediately, a wave of vertigo hit her. She was glad he was holding her hand, guiding her as she grappled with her mind.
Blinking away the dizziness, she spotted a green double door at the end. But as they got closer…the door itself seemed to be getting further and further away.
Her mind felt foggy, and she could feel this pressure building in her skull. Building and building until the pain turned sound fuzzy, and the only thing she could hear was her heartbeat pulsating against her eardrums.
Dizzily, she thought, Did the bartender put something in my drink? Her gut was telling her no, but why else did she feel the way she did?
Looking over her shoulder, she wondered if they had truly taken that many steps or if she was imagining things. She couldn’t see the entrance to the hall; she didn’t understand what she was seeing as the walls around her faded into nothingness.
There—in the distance and darkness—Soraya saw five short hallways. They all led to different colored doors.
There was red and blue, white and yellow…and purple. The doors all looked identical, with a single light fixture hanging over their frames…except for purple. Its light had been snuffed out, and big, thick silver chains crossed over its surface. Barring anything from entering or exiting.
Why was that?
Fighting logic, she turned her head back around, and it was like she was on a merry-go-round underwater. Her mind whirled away from her, as did her feet. For a moment, she felt weightless, right before a solid, warm mass stopped her face.
“Are you okay?” A distant, timbred voice asked.
Looking up from the soft fabric she had her nose buried in, she saw a god looking back at her. Her mind couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing. There was gold and green, and such beauty that it hurt something deep inside her.
A warm, calloused hand cupped her face, and she leaned into the gentle touch as if she had never felt one like it before. Her heart strained to remember such care. Such gentleness. She needed to tell him that.
She needed to tell him.
Tell him.
Him.
Amber and sticky-sweet blossoms.
Her mind was melting.
“Look at me.”
The unyielding command blasted the doors to her consciousness wide open. Blinking rapidly, she felt air rushing back into her lungs. Her mind whirled, then stopped all at once. When she blinked away the haze from her eyes, she found herself staring into citrine eyes tinged with green.
The way he looked at her—with his hand cradling half her face, concern etched into his thick dark eyebrows, and something else—made her feel naked and vulnerable under his focused gaze.
Soraya had no idea how they had gotten into this position. One moment, they were walking down the hall, and the next…
She turned her head, and he dropped his hand, making her miss his warmth.
They were standing in front of the green double doors. When had they arrived?
She looked back the way they came. All she saw were white walls and the corridor they had just been in—a single warm sconce twinkling in the dimness of the hallway.
“Are you okay, my lady?”
Turning to look up at him once more, Soraya didn’t know how she felt. Empty? It was as if she had finally grasped all the answers in the world, only to have them snatched away, leaving nothing in their wake. “I’m fine.”
She had been all her life.
Nothing more, nothing less.
But…for a moment, she felt more than fine, even if there was pain. Especially when he had touched her, she wanted him to touch her more, and as if he read her mind, he did precisely that.
With the back of his knuckles, he ran them softly down her cheek, peering deeply into her eyes with a knowing look.
“Well, doe-eyes, if you are experiencing any discomfort, you will let me know, or else I will cut our evening short and take you back. Understand?”
She dipped her chin in understanding. “I’m okay, just lost my footing.”
He made a pleased sound in his chest. “Come, the night is still young.” He stepped back and offered his arm. She tucked into him without hesitation. Soraya watched as he lifted a large hand to grasp the golden handle, pushing it open to lead her through.
~
There was a ringing in her ears and heat seeping into the palms of her hands.
Blinking down, she saw her fingers wrapped around a steaming mug. It had a delightful aroma, some sort of milk and honey combination with a hint of cinnamon.
Soraya’s jumbled thoughts managed to form one complete sentence in her mind. Where am I?
She peered into her tea and willed the answer to come to her.
When had she gotten tea?
“Soraya?”
A warm hand on her back made her whole body jerk. Smoothly, the man from the bar sitting next to her—Tariq—took the cup from her hands and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. When he faced her, the surprise she felt evaporated like a puff of smoke, replaced with a sense of calm.
She focused on his strong brow and how his hair was mussed back as if he had been running his hands through it.
“Where did you go? I thought I lost you there for a moment.” The sound of his voice sent a shiver down her back.
Soraya cleared her throat, opened her mouth, and was happy when words actually came out. “Yes, I just blanked for a second.” Looking down at the cup in her hands, she asked, “What was in that tea?”
“I can write down the recipe for you,” he said, amusement coloring his words.
Why the hell was she asking about tea? There was something more important she needed to ask, but every time her mind tried to form the sentence, it slipped away. Mind blank, she gave up on chasing the thought in favor of looking around the room. It was quite spacious, with a high, domed ceiling.
That’s right. She was in his hotel room. She started to feel a bit shy, so they started talking to pass the time, and he had made her a cup of tea for her parched throat. How had she forgotten that? But…how long had she been there? Her thoughts shifted from the questions back to the room.
The dominant color of the floor, walls, and ceiling was a lovely shade of jade. It almost looked like the whole room was made of pure jadeite crystal, but she knew that was impossible.
Beige, green, light pink, and pale violet décor were scattered throughout the room in the forms of sculptures, tapestries, and furniture.
The low settee couch they were sitting on was light pink and soft to the touch.
But what really caught her attention were the floor-to-ceiling peaked windows to her left.
They had an intricate wooden lattice cover, with leaves and dark green foliage curling through the holes.
In the room’s silence, she could hear running water, the song of melancholy birds echoing beyond the windows, and a ticking clock.
Her eyes shifted to a small wooden clock set on the mantel resting above the fireplace before her.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The timepiece was a beautiful work of art; the wood was bent and twisted in ways she had never seen before.
Dragging her eyes away from the ticking hands, she looked over her shoulder at an enormous bed.
An ornate wooden headboard rested against the wall, flanked by two nightstands on either side.
At least, that’s all she could see through the gossamer fabric hanging down from a disc structure over the bed.
It looked…luscious. Inviting.
She wanted to ask where they were because she had never been to or seen a place like this in downtown Los Angeles. But her mind diverted to a more pressing thought. When she turned to look at Tariq, she found him already staring at her.
Fuck. Tariq was devastatingly handsome.
Casually leaning back into the corner of the couch, one arm dangling off the back and the other propped on his sharp jawline, he looked sculpted from stone and sin.
He had removed his green vest, and the top buttons on his cream-colored shirt were undone. She let her eyes linger on the warm, tan skin on display. His pectoral muscles were so well-defined that they looked like they could cut glass. Did the rest of him look like that?
She had to know.