WHATEVER, POLICE OFFICER

Seventy Two.

BIG SUR, CALIFORNIA.

Four days later, Fatima is tired of Big Sur but she is adamant on spending the whole week away from her parents just so they could feel worthless for a bit. Had it not been for her curiosity, Fatima would've added more three weeks and fill up a whole month but she is eager to find out her family's story and Ahmad need to go back to his work. He is now fit and healthy, the wound leaving a scar but aching when touched brutally to inflict pain.

"There is nothing more to do and I'm tired of this place already." Fatima fell back on the bed after having their dinner, a Chinese food.

"I have a lot planned in my head if you're willing?" He stood atop her head stirring her cup of green tea while his sat on the table beside the armrest in the room.

But something about the way she stared at him gave him chills. Sudden strong awareness of his own heartbeat, the radiant sensation of being flooded with warmth, his mouth parching that he had to dart his tongue out to wet it, hairs raising all over his arms and that is not because of the cold weather and his tank top, it's an entirely different reason. His body craved for nothing but the feel of her skin against his, and that is the same way Fatima is staring at him. She was off limit the last four days, since the evening they arrived and she bathed just earlier albeit surprised the blood flow is lessening.

Ahmad gulped, Fatima needs him and the damned feeling is mutual. Her parted lips, firm eyes contact, ragged breath as she took him in like a wanton woman, increased swallowing and her flushed face. Even the outfit she is wearing is an invitation which he never took because he wants her to make the first move now. It's not about pride but with more familiarity between them, she will be able to tell him what she's wants and what she doesn't. She is always holding back, that's what he's found out about her and he wants her to be free. Her opinions matters anyway.

A seductive quirked smile made it's way to her face. "Come to me, I missed you." She brazenly whispered, inclining her head to the side in invitation. She's wearing a hot pink chemise shirt that stopped right above her mid thigh and it ridden up farther at the way she sat down, cross legged.

Ahmad slowly kept the mug of her green tea beside his and moved toward the bed with tentative steps. Something is different about this Fatima in front of him. There is something feral and fierce in her eyes that promised so much unknown pleasure. Who's possessed his wife now? He grinned wryly at his own thought because whatever it is that's happened to Fatima related to the bedroom affairs had to do with him. He's corrupted her one way or the other, drat.

The corners of Fatima's mouth curled upward as if she could read his thoughts. She slipped into the covers on the bed and recline to a model-like pose she's seen Kendall Jenner shoot years ago, she did it instinctively though. As she turned the covers back, he sighted her dark gleaming skin radiant with the cream she's used to rub all over her body few hours ago, trying to attract his attention. Ahmad was momentarily surprised by his own response to the sight, the flash of primal possessiveness. Slowly he obeyed her gesture to come to the bed.

He sat on the edge of the mattress, his nerves sizzling as Fatima gathered up the loose folds of her chemise dress. She crawled into his lap with the delicacy and gracefulness of a cat. The scent of sweet female skin filled his nostrils, and her weight settled on his thighs. Linking her slender arms around his neck, she said gravely again. "I missed you."
His palms charted the shape of her body; the tender curves, the slender waist, the firm heart-shaped behind. Holy hell.

Without giving him any chance to whisper back those exact words that are at the tip of his tongue, her mouth pressed against his, absorbing the raw confession. Her lips parted, and he needed no further invitation to kiss her, the gentle ingress of his tongue deepening until he had taken her mouth fully. The soft shapes of her breasts brushed against his chest with every inhalation.