She intensified the kiss, their tongues sweeping, meshing, exploring, until she wrenched her mouth from his and moaned loudly, her body trembling, announcing her climax. Unable to resist one more second, he plunged into her pussy one last time, succumbing to the waves of pleasure crashing through him.
…
“What do you have going on today?” Izzy asked after they woke up.
Ever since the previous day, the words she’d uttered slapped her back on the face. I love you. She hadn’t lied, trying to convince herself she had was even more dumb than saying those words. But where did they go from here? Love hadn’t stopped Harold from dying. Love hadn’t stopped Mary from traveling on a trip with no return. Sometimes, love wasn’t enough.
Nassor finished dressing up and glanced at his watch. “Lots of business stuff. How about you? Do you need the driver to take you anywhere?”
“Your mom said she could show me some attractions later.”
“My mom. Be careful. I still think her being nice is too good to be true.”
“She’s probably getting to know me to dig up some dirt she can use against me later,” she said casually, even though she hoped that wasn’t the case. She slid out of the bed and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Queen Kesia had been nice, attentive but not overbearing. Why was it easier not to compliment her?
He smiled. “My mom isn’t evil. She’s just—”
“A mom. I’ll know it someday,” she said, then brushed her teeth violently, wishing she could erase what she just said about being a mom someday. Why the hell did she say that?
The image of her with a couple of children invaded her mind before she could brush it aside. She had never thought about motherhood much. She loved children and didn’t mind babysitting for a colleague, but she’d hate to bring kids into the kind of unstable situation she experienced growing up. She’d never met someone who had her think of having kids with—Nassor, though, would make a good parent. She finished brushing, reached for the clear cup and turned on the tap. He was caring, fair, and had a big heart. When he’d told her about his friend Jonah, she could sense the regret in his voice. The nostalgia.
She was wiping her mouth on the hand towel when a couple of dings announcing text messages caught her attention. Was it her cell phone? No. She’d turned it off to sleep.
Nassor walked into the bathroom. “Vadik, the IT guy, has requested a meeting. I told him to go to my office. Get ready so we can ask him what he’s got on Obasi.”
“Yes.” She peeled off her nightgown and dashed to the closet, picking the first pair of pants and blouse she spotted.
She slid on her shoes and smoothed her hand over her attire. When they walked through the hallways, she walked one step behind him, as it was the tradition while in public. Only a wife walked alongside the king in public, others—men and women—trailed behind. Wife. Wives.
Would their feelings for each other change anything? Change people’s minds and centuries-old traditions?
When they reached his office, she sat on the chair across from him. She glanced at the pristine desk, at the nicely decorated large interior. The room exuded an old-world charm with modern day technologies. Even though her chair could accommodate another person, she sat at the edge, too nervous to be comfortable.
He texted Vadik, and a few minutes later, the medium-height, glasses-wearing man walked into the office, carrying a briefcase.
“Vadik, this is Ms. Lima. Anything you have to tell me, you can tell her.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, offering his hand.
“You too.” She shook it and shifted in her seat, nervous.
He took the seat next to hers, with Nassor across from them. “I looked into Rasheed’s phone calls and emails, hunting for a liaison with Obasi Akenzua. Unfortunately, I found none. Rasheed used a different man to provide him the sex workers.”
“A different pimp,” she said, frustration throbbing in her temples. A different pig. Madame Alexa’s auction came to mind, but she brushed it aside—Madame Alexa would never hurt any of the auctionees, and drugs were strictly prohibited.
Vadik blushed then glanced down, obviously not used to speaking about such subjects so openly with someone from the opposite sex. “Yes. That. But I was able to check into Rasheed’s pimp information online. He exchanged a couple of emails with Obasi in the past about ongoing rates. So, while they don’t mention any names, they had a connection, which leads me to think…”
“Obasi was also a pimp.” Nassor popped his knuckles.
Disappointment lanced through her heart, and she fell back on the chair. The man Mary had left her for…was a pimp. He had used her. They hadn’t shared a love story or a hot affair. He’d simply used her—but why? “Why did he need to recruit someone from out of the country when he had potential victims here?” she asked out loud.
Nassor’s gaze met hers, a cautionary message sparking in the irises of his cocoa eyes. Clearing her throat, she squared her shoulders, willing herself to be on guard. Nassor probably had given Vadik very little information about the assignment so as not to compromise himself or her.
“What Ms. Lima means is there’s a rumor Obasi was involved in human trafficking.”
Vadik opened his briefcase, pulled a few sheets out and handed them to Nassor, who glanced at them and quickly shared them with her. She looked down at the print copies of what looked like email messages, but didn’t read them because they weren’t in English. “These are the emails between them. Apparently, Obasi flew under the radar and he only had a few high-profile clients. They all looked for different kinds of women. Some a bit older, some white, some with a specific body type. Particular preferences.”
Particular preferences. Izzy balled her fingers into a fist, wishing she could punch the person who deserved a good smacking. How many of these women had played along because of their own free will? How many of them had been fooled and trafficked like endangered animals? Her throat grew thick and dry.
