A big work desk lined the far wall, and all sorts of fabrics hung draped over mannequins and rods throughout the space. Calla appeared a moment later, beaming and flushed, from beneath a gown on a mannequin. She brushed a lock of cocoa-colored hair out of her face.
“Hello, Vanessa! It’s so lovely to meet you!” Calla rushed forward, arms out for a hug. “We’re sisters now, right?”
Vanessa could only laugh as Calla wrapped her arms around her. The soft floral scent of her hair felt calming, even as another wave of nausea threatened her.
“It’s so good to meet you. And yes, I’m pretty sure we’re automatically blood related ever since our wedding in Vegas,” Vanessa cracked.
“A lot of things changed after that Vegas wedding,” Amad teased.
“Mostly for the better, I hope!” Calla chirped. She squeezed the sides of Vanessa’s arms. “It’s so good to have you here. I’ve been waiting for an American sister.” Calla nudged Amad’s side. “You think your little brother will marry an American girl too?”
“One can only wait and see,” Amad said.
More ladies entered Calla’s studio then, carrying bolts of fabric. Calla introduced them all to Vanessa—all members of the tribe, some of them married to distinguished tribal leaders—and Vanessa couldn’t help but notice how Amad looked totally at ease while surrounded by almost a dozen women.
It was one of the small things she respected about him. He could handle any situation, be anywhere, and still look cool as a cucumber. And now that she’d seen his traditional homeland, it was somehow sexy that he’d turned out more progressive than the others. The only man to dress in Western clothes. The America-based sheikh.
As Calla led Vanessa through the studio, explaining her designs and some of the plans for the clothing, Amad took her hand in his. The warmth of his rough palm sent a jolt of security through her.
She loved this. Right here. Being wrapped in the warm embrace of a homeland that, even though it wasn’t hers, felt familiar and safe. Visiting women who welcomed her and smiled fondly, even though they’d just met. Dipping her toe in a new culture that would become an undeniable part of her baby’s life and future.
“I want to steal your wife for tea tomorrow,” Calla said to Amad as she held up a swath of fabric against Vanessa’s sun-kissed arm. “What do you think, Vanessa? Can we meet for tea around eleven?”
“Of course,” Vanessa blurted. “I’d love that.”
“And Calla and the other ladies can help answer all your questions,” Amad said.
“I might not have all the answers,” Calla said with a knowing grin, “But I probably have some.”
7
Vanessa awoke the next morning feeling caught between two worlds. She knew that if she got out of bed, nausea would strike. But she didn’t feel sick quite yet. In fact, she felt slightly normal. Horny, even.
Amad rolled over beside her. He hadn’t taken an early meeting that day, so they’d been snoozing and cuddling since the wee hours. She spooned him from behind, nuzzling her face in the caramel expanse of his back. He mumbled something, reaching behind him to stroke her bare hip.
“You know what, babe?” She dragged her lips over his shoulder. “I think we need to have sex.”
That seemed to catch his attention. He rolled onto his side to face her, bleary eyes narrowing. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Like, right now.”
“Sounds urgent.” His voice was groggy and deep. He pinched an eye shut as he tossed back the covers, exposing their naked bodies. They always slept nude together. “Good thing I’m on call for sex emergencies.”
Vanessa giggled as he buried his face in the hollow of her neck. His hands wandered between her legs, gently exploring the heat there. He moaned low a moment later, once he’d slipped a finger inside her pussy.
“Damn, Vanessa.” He pushed to sitting, his eyes clearer now, more alert. His cock jumped to life between his legs, standing long and hard. “You are so wet. Have you been this turned on all morning?”
She nodded as he took his position over top of her, the heat of him between her legs a welcome pressure she’d come to crave. He groaned appreciatively as he nestled himself into place. His cockhead skimmed the folds of her pussy, sending a jolt of anticipation through her. They hadn’t had sex since their wedding night, mostly due to the onset of early pregnancy symptoms. Even though it had been days, it felt like years to her. She needed him inside of her. Filling her. Completing her.
The thought jarred a cold fear through her as Amad eased his cock into her pussy. She dug her fingernails into his shoulder, resolving not to think too hard about it. Amad didn’t complete her, no matter how much it felt like it. Because she didn’t need a man. It was the pregnancy hormones speaking. Or something.
Her eyes fluttered shut as the sensations overcame her. They started a slow, gentle rhythm—perfect mid-morning sex—and it wasn’t long before her entire body tensed at the precipice of an orgasm. Amad’s sexy grunts and intense but slow thrusts had her unraveling in mere minutes. She wanted to keep quiet—who knew how sound traveled in this palace?—but moans escaped her anyway. She threw her head back as a long, low keen ripped out of her.
Amad came a moment later, tensing and stilling as his low abs jerked with the orgasm. They lay sated and panting on the bed, Amad’s arms wrapped tight around her. He pressed lazy kisses to her shoulder blade as they recuperated.
“I think I like Amatbah better than America,” Vanessa ventured a moment later. She could feel the curve of his grin against her skin.
“Oh yeah?”