Sheikh's Hired Mistress(5)

By: Sophia Lynn & Ella Brooke


“I do?” Laine found herself mesmerized by his intense hazel-green eyes.

Aziz murmured a “yes” and their lips came together once more. His kisses were deliberate, firm. He moved in for a long kiss, and then sucked in her lower lip teasingly. It was like each kiss was punctuated with another. Soon, Laine was very, very warm.

“Mmm.” Laine sighed as Aziz pulled away.

“There are other parties in this city. Other things to do…that we could do together,” Aziz suggested.

Laine hesitated only a moment before taking Aziz’s arm. “I didn’t drive here.”

“I will take care of our travel.”

“Oh? And how does a sheikh travel?”

“Only at the height of style.” Aziz lifted his chin as they walked back inside, looking every bit the foreign conqueror. Laine was sure the stars and socialites were duly impressed and intimidated.

Laine caught her sister’s eye before she and Aziz disappeared through the front door. Emma’s eyes sparkled with scandal and mirth. When they’d reached the elevator and the door closed behind them, Aziz pushed Laine against the wall, and his eyes flashed. He devoured her neck mercilessly with little kisses, nipping and sucking and dragging his teeth along the tender flesh. Laine flattened her hand against the elevator wall. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she carded her fingers into Aziz’s lush hair.

“Already this party is better,” she gasped.

Aziz let out a deep-throated chuckle.

When she caught a moment, Laine shot Emma a quick text: “Your hour’s up, sis! See you tomorrow!”





Chapter Three

A limo ride, several city blocks, and two appletinis later, Laine and Aziz were back out on a dance floor. This time, though, with the lights lowered and other people dancing around them, Laine started to forget where they were and who was around them. Oh, she was vaguely aware that there were other people at the club and one of Aziz’s scary, bald-headed bodyguards was discreetly lurking somewhere, but none of that was at the forefront of her mind. Nothing was, aside from the raw physicality of Aziz as he danced, the energy crackling around them both, and the beat of the music reverberating throughout every atom in the club.

Laine had rarely been to clubs in the city; she honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone dancing, or the last time she’d gone anywhere with a guy without having planned it out several weeks in advance. On the way over, that had made her a little nervous. She’d barely put any thought into leaving the party with a man she didn’t even know. But something about Aziz was so tremendously honest that she couldn’t believe that he was anything other than what he seemed. Even if it turned out the bit about being a sheikh was bunk—though she doubted it—Aziz presented himself as a man in control, invested in having a pleasurable evening, and confident that he could ensure that however and with whomever he wanted. Laine was good at reading people, unless he was a method actor.

The lights strobed over them in blues and greens, turning the dancers into ethereal turquoise revelers. The music pumped and swelled, and the two of them moved together. First their eyes were locked on one another as they danced, not touching but close enough to feel one another’s heat. Then Aziz took her hand, as though to keep her close, even though she wasn’t going anywhere. Laine smiled and turned her back to him, keeping their fingers woven together above her shoulder as she looked up and back at him. She grinned, causing him to smile as well. Aziz reached around her, moving his hand first down her stomach, then along the front of her thigh. Their bodies rolled along with the music as one.

When the music changed, Aziz leaned over to press a kiss to the curve of her neck. Laine closed her eyes and felt something releasing inside of her, like a cord pulled tight that had just been unhooked. Her breaths came more frequently, more deeply. She squeezed Aziz’s fingers and arched her neck to give him access, which he boldly claimed. There would be no question, if anyone had been looking, that she was his for the evening. Not that anyone was looking, and that in itself was freeing, too. Everyone here was their own audience, and no one else’s. Everyone here, including the two of them, was immersed in their own private party.

So they danced on, fueled by the adrenaline and exuberant joy that dancing brings, causing the heart to lighten and the joints feel loose and eager, until Aziz touched her hair and leaned close to her ear.

“Come with me!”

Laine turned her head, uncertain if she’d heard him right. The music was so loud. Aziz pulled on her hand, and she turned to follow him. Quickly, she recognized where they were headed. She knew this club and the owner well. She had been assigned to the recent redesign. They wove through the crowd and then up a steep winding flight of metal stairs that led to the second level and the private, restricted rooftop area. The security guard by the large door that led outside gave Aziz a nod and opened it for them. There was only one other couple there, sitting off to the side and talking quietly.