He sensed she was attracted to him, and he knew he could have her. A no-strings fling would ease the stress and monotony of this California trip. Tariq kept reminding him that they weren’t here for a vacation. But surely there was nothing wrong with a little fun after a hard day’s work. And he would ensure Samira had as much fun as him, if not more.
Ivan knew how to please a woman. He wasn’t an ill-mannered moron like those idiot boys on the beach. Women deserved respect – and Ivan prided himself on ‘satisfaction guaranteed’ in and out of the bedroom…
He glanced at Samira now as she led him up the brick driveway to her two-storey home – which possessed massive windows, a huge peaked roof, and its own lush palm garden. Ivan imagined the upper-storey probably overlooked the ocean, and he was keen to get up there to find out – hopefully while f**king Samira into a frenzy... But for now, he followed her through the backdoor and into the kitchen, where Tariq was busy chopping up vegetables at the marble counter.
Ivan threw Samira a grin. “I see you’ve got your cousin well-trained.”
She laughed. “Yes. Please be welcome in my home, Ivan.”
Tariq turned at the sound of their voices. “Cousin! Come here and hug me!”
Ivan stood back and watched Samira and Tariq embrace tightly. Their affection lifted Ivan’s spirits, and he realised that the atmosphere in here was vibrant and fun – the radio was playing old songs from his youth, and the kitchen décor was homey and modern. It was painted cream throughout, and the wooden floorboards complemented the oak rafters – giving it a rustic feel. Ivan suddenly realised that this business trip might actually be enjoyable. Staying in this welcoming home with the beautiful Samira…
Tariq set Samira back down on the cool kitchen floor, then he glanced over at Ivan. “I see you two met, then?”
“Yes,” Samira said. “He saved me from some boys who were hassling me on the beach. I can usually take care of myself, but I was grateful for the support this time.”
Tariq raised an eyebrow at his cousin. “You know you need to stay out of trouble and keep your head down. I worked hard to get you over here… I’d hate for you to get kicked out of UCLA for something stupid. Your visa depends on you doing well in college, right?”
Samira raised her hands defensively. “I know, I know. I’d hate to lose this opportunity, too. I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Tariq. Okay?”
“I’m glad to have you here in America, that’s all. I don’t want to lose you.” Tariq smirked at Ivan. “And, Ivan, always bulldozing in there for a fight.” He glanced at Samira. “He’s always been the same – he ran to my rescue a lot when we were kids. He’s a good friend, and I wasn’t always as manly as I am now!”
They all laughed. Tariq was manly – he was six-foot tall and strongly built with a shaved head – but as a child he’d been bullied because he was different – his parents were from Iran and he’d never been that good at hiding his sexuality. But Ivan was always happy to help his friends. He’d been born fighting. His father had been in the US army, so he’d spent his first few years living on a military base where he’d learnt to stick up for himself. That fighting spirit never had left him and he’d often found himself brawling in the rough neighbourhoods they’d been hawked around before their dad had made his fortune. As soon as their dad had started to make good money, life had changed fast, and Ivan and his siblings had been educated well. The younger brothers had changed too, adopting more amiable dispositions, but Ivan had never lost that fight. His dad had taught him the value of practical skills – how to fix a car, how to wire a house…. how to punch someone’s lights out. No one messed with him or his own. And now that included Samira. If he ever saw those as**sholes from the beach again, he’d gladly go for round two with them.
And as for Samira…. Well, he wanted to give her so much pleasure that she’d remember him and their erotic liaison for the rest of her life; never knowing quite as much sexual satisfaction with any other lover to come…
The sight of Samira sticking her finger into Tariq’s pan of sauce and sucking it pulled Ivan out of his thoughts. “What are you cooking up for us, huh?” she asked.
“Persian chicken curry. I thought Ivan should be treated to a traditional Iranian dish for his first night in your home.”
“Smells great,” Ivan said, gazing at Samira and remembering her sweet floral scent.
“You wait until you taste it,” Tariq said.
? Also By Julie Farrell
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