The Sheik's Virgin Lover (The Sisterhood) (8 page)

“Ah…an ideologue.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a bit idealistic.”

He didn’t answer immediately but finally said, “Nothing, as long as you aren’t disappointed.”

She looked up at him, the brim of her hat only partially shielding her eyes from the sun. “Disappointment is part of life. But so is excitement, hope and encouragement when things start to look gloomy.”

He smiled down at her and shook his head slightly. “As I said, an ideologue.”

She rolled her eyes and looked away. “And you’re a cynic.”

“A realist.”

“No different. Without dreams, previously impossible things could never happen.”

He pulled her closer and for a moment in time, the crowds disappeared, the heat dissipated and the soles of her feet felt as if they were walking on a cloud instead of the hard pavement. She thought he was going to kiss her and she wasn’t sure if she wanted that or not.

“Ms. Em!” a voice called, breaking the spell that had been blocking out the rest of the world. “You’re up.”

Emma looked around and saw several expectant faces waiting on her response. She was confused for a long moment, wondering why they would be waiting for her, then she saw four of her teenage boys standing at the pie throwing table, a pie made of whip cream in their waiting hands and a mischievous expression on their usually sullen faces.

Emma laughed outright and gave in, throwing up her hands. “Okay, I signed up so I’m on my way.” Turning to Dharran, she touched his hand slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m on call for the pie contest for the next fifteen minutes, then in the dunking tank. So many of the kids think they can get me this way so I’m a big fundraiser.”

Word was obviously spreading that it was her turn to go up because she could see people whispering to each other and then hurry to get into the line.

Emma good naturedly got behind the screen and put her head through the screen, a seemingly easy target for the pies. But after fifteen minutes, she’d only been partially hit with a pie. The contest was loads of fun and Emma was laughing so hard her stomach hurt as boy after boy lined up to toss one in her direction. The issue was the pies. Because so many were in demand, it was hard for the whip cream to be filled up fast enough. And even then, the heat was melting the cream, pushing the filling to one side or another, tossing off the balance. So even if someone normally had excellent aim, they missed her almost completely, to the laughing comments of many in the crowd.

Emma glanced at Dharran several times and he was standing off to the side, a slight smile on his face as he watched so many people try to hit her straight on. The others started to realize that she’d look over in his direction each time one came close. Something must have telepathed to the crowd because Jerome, one of the best basketball players, walked over with a fresh pie and offered it to Dharran, seeming to explain the game.

Emma had been the target for so long, she wasn’t at all worried when Dharran walked up and hefted the pie in his hand, gauging the weight and balance, measuring the aim. He looked so serious that she actually laughed and rolled her eyes. “Come on big boy!” she called out to him. “Go ahead and toss it at me. As if you could really hit me.”

Seconds later, she wasn’t so cocky about this aim as she looked around, or tried to, blinking hard to get the whip cream out of her eyes and hair to the screams of laughter and good natured cheering from the crowd. She stood up and used her fingers to clear the cream away, then looked over at Dharran, noting the hands on his hips and the satisfied expression on his face as well as several people patting him on the back as they surrounded him, much to the chagrin of his security team. “You hit me!” she called out, laughing at his smug expression.

He walked up to her, carrying a towel that someone had handed him. With a gentle hand he wiped the cream off her face, then bent down and kissed her, right there, in front of so many people, then licked a bit of the cream off her nose. “Just as I suspected, you taste very sweet, kitten.”

She was stunned into silence, looking up at him as her heart hammered in her chest almost painfully. She desperately wanted him to do that again. And maybe again.

But the crowds were closing in, patting Dharran on his shoulder in congratulations.

Emma sighed and handed the towel to one of the girls working the stand, all of whom were still laughing. “Okay, good shot,” she said to Dharran. “You’ve had your fun, why don’t you go over and try the pie samples. I can guarantee you’ve never had a better rhubarb pie than Ms. Lewinsky’s.”

He walked closer and rubbed his finger over her earlobe, then lifted a tuft of whip cream to his lips, obviously a dollop she had missed a moment ago while wiping off her face. “Delicious.”

Thankfully, he walked away and gave her a bit of breathing space and her vengeance for the pie hitting her square on was that he was guided over to the pie table by a group of giggling girls, all of whom were trying out their teenage wiles on the most handsome, and obviously wealthy, man in the vicinity.

Normally, any man who would step onto their turf and disrupt their advances would create a frenzy of jealous outrage among the males in that age group but since Dharran had done what all of them hadn’t been able to do, plus, he kept looking back at Emma instead of showing a preference for any particular female, the teenage boys high fived each other in their enjoyment of Emma being smashed with a pie.

Emma kept glancing back as she made her way to the dunking booth on the opposite side of the asphalt, ignoring the small stabs of jealousy, as the girls took Dharran from one table to the next, obviously explaining what each delicacy was. Dharran, being the courageous man she was learning he was, accepted each taste, no matter how bizarre the small bite might be.

He also bought several items, waving to one of his men each time he came upon something that intrigued him.

Emma had to be nudged out of her reverie after several minutes of watching him. She was in awe of the way he walked through the tables, covered only with a canopy, and made each of the women and men feel as if they were special. She wished she had that ability, which was almost magical, she thought as she was pushed towards her next assignment, the dunking tank.

Emma waited as Father Mike climbed out of the tank, still damp from his last dunking. Each player paid one dollar to take a baseball and hit the relatively small bull’s eye, which would then release the platform upon which the victim was sitting. Said victim would then splash into the water down below, usually to large cheers from the spectators.

It occurred to her that this was the first time she’d ever seen Dharran in something other than a full suit with tie completely knotted. Today he was actually wearing a short sleeved collared shirt and tan slacks although his shoes were still highly polished and he looked absolutely devastating amidst the throngs of teens in jeans shorts with their boxers more than peeking out the top and basketball jerseys that were about four times too large.

Emma had volunteered to be in the tank for thirty minutes. After fifteen minutes, another line had formed to try and dunk her. Emma laughed each time the target was hit and she was splashed into the tank. The guys were having a blast trying to get her into the tank and Emma enjoyed the coolness of the water after the heat of the afternoon.

And then Dharran finished his rounds at the tables and turned to see what all the commotion was. There was such a loud crowd surrounding the tank that Dharran couldn’t see what was happening. He politely thanked the woman who had sold him a loaf of bread, then handed the bread to a waiting body guard who added it to his large bag of finds. Dharran looked around, but he didn’t see Emma anywhere. He knew she’d been following his progress initially with her eyes, he’d felt them and was relieved that she was feeling just as possessive as he was. He didn’t like her being surrounded by men like this, but the age groups were so much younger than she was, he didn’t feel as if they were a threat to her at this point. His men were keeping an eye on the crowd though, just in case an issue arose that would create a dangerous situation.

Heading towards the large crowd, he kept his eyes open for Emma, wanting to check on her status, and just wanting to see her once again.

As he came closer to the cheering crowd, Dharran was taller than all the others so it was easy for him to see over the heads of the rest. And what he saw made him so furious he could barely contain his temper.

Emma, the woman he’d been patiently trying to get into his bed, was sitting on a platform being tumbled into the water. And each time, his body grew harder as the clothes were plastered against her skin with the water. Her lovely, lush figure outlined perfectly as the water dripped down her clothes. He’d known she would be lovely but, even with his tutored eye, he had no idea what she’d been hiding under those hideous clothes. And even so, he’d been drawn to her from the moment he’d set eyes upon her. Not even aware of how sensuous she would be. It was ludicrous that he’d been blinded by her smile and those insane curls and hadn’t seen what lay beneath the tee shirts.

He tried to be rational as he listened to the crowd cheering each time she was dunked. But with every roar and clap, his patience was strained.

One of his guards came up and suggested that they end the performance but Dharran was loathe to do so. He knew that only a few in the crowd were cheering and watching for the same reason he stood there. It was difficult though, to not have his men disperse the crowd and take his Emma under cover, whisking her away to some place where he could peel those clothes off of her delectable body and show her exactly what she could experience at his hands. And his mouth.

When Emma finally called it quits, she climbed out of the dunk tank amid boos and laughter, with clapping sprinkled in. The crowd was satisfied a moment later when one of the extremely large teens climbed up into the tank. All of them jostled amongst each other to be the first to throw the baseball and within moments, the huge male was splashed down into the water, the yells and applause even louder then when Emma had gone down.

A towel was thrown around Emma’s shoulders, and at that moment, Dharran had endured enough. He wanted her next to him and he was furious that others had seen what he wanted to see, only without the previously shapeless shirt that was still plastered against her body.

“Come with me,” he demanded, taking her arm and dragging her into the Rec Center, directly to her office and slamming the door closed.

Emma was furious and tried to pull her arm free, only to have him grab her more securely. When they were behind closed doors and he’d let go of her arm, she spun around, ready to rip into him for dragging her anywhere, and completely fed up with a second encounter where he did exactly what he wanted despite her opinions on the subject.

“Just who do you…” she started to say, but her tirade was cut off as he pulled her into his arms, his mouth covering hers and kissing her with a passion that would have terrified her if her mind had been functioning. As it was, the kiss stole her breath away and she didn’t even realize when he pushed her back against her desk, leaning over her while one hand pulled her closer and the other lifted her leg so that it was practically wrapped around his hips.

Emma moaned as desire swamped her senses. Her hands reached out to grab his shoulders but once she gained her balance, his shoulders weren’t enough. She wanted to touch him as well.

With his hands firmly around her back, he pulled her against him, his arousal plain as it pressed against her stomach. Emma felt it and was amazed that she could have so much power, but then he touched her back, pulling the wet, black fabric up so his hand could touch her bare skin.

With a growl, Dharran pulled the fabric up over her head, tossing it onto the floor beside them. His eyes looked down at her, looked at her sumptuous breasts encased in simple black cotton edged with lace. “More,” he demanded and with a simple flick of his wrist, the strap of her bra fell off her shoulder, revealing one perfect, creamy breast, the black cotton hanging from her taut nipple.

Emma’s breath was rapid now, her body shivering as she watched Dharran’s hand close over her breast, cup it’s fullness gently at first. But then he bent her back so she was almost laying on her desk, papers and all, so his mouth could cover her nipple and Emma almost screamed out with the pleasure that rocked her body, her hands coming up to grab his shirt with fists as her legs wrapped around his hips. She closed her eyes and arched against his mouth, inviting him to do more.

He obliged by using his teeth to move the cotton fabric off her nipple before coming back, his hot mouth covering her nipple once again, the heat of his mouth shocking her, but nothing compared to what she felt when he started to suck, gently at first, but with more power as she held his head, her body writhing underneath his hands.

“We can’t do this here, Emma. Come back to my suite with me,” he groaned, his hand moving to the other breast, giving it the same attention. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

Emma’s mind was quickly coming out of the passion induced fog but with his words, something filtered through. “Finish?” she whispered, then groaned as his mouth covered her other breast, moving downward.