Page 27 of Good As Hell

I feel like a deer caught in headlights as he stalks over to me. His eyes warm on the passion marks spread across my neck, breasts, and thighs. His nose flares, scenting me.

“If I had time, I’d make you even messier. I like you covered in my come, jameela.” Roughly musing as his hand dips between my legs. His gaze rakes over my face. I hate and love his touch. It’s something about the obsessiveness in his need to possess me, then transcends everything I know I should want.

Finger dripping with our spent emissions, he sucks one digit clean before pressing the other into my mouth. He makes me like the nasty things he does. I savor our mingled flavors.

“Stop, Hassan.” I try to pull away, but he holds me fast. “What are you talking about?”

“Ah, that your family is here?” He puzzles out, looking at me before seeming to remember. “I forgot to brief you yesterday while we were otherwise occupied. Your family came in yesterday and will be dining with us tonight. The wedding will be in haste, but we shall still observe all the formalities, which includes our families having a formal dinner.”

He may as well smack me. I dropped back down to the bed, stunned.

“Shit has just gotten real, huh?” His clipped words seem to almost relish the torment I’m feeling. “Yeah, my secretary informed me your parents were floored to find out you had a baby. You didn’t tell them either.” Judgement wedges into every syllable of his words.

I feel sick. I want to disappear. Sink into the bed and never rise again. But Ayaan, my sweet baby, needs me. People are still counting on me to salvage something of my life and career, so they can live theirs. I just need to moment to square my reality with the sucker-punch I just took square in my solar plexus.

I’m pulling the cover over my head, trying to escape reality when it’s snatched back with brutally quick efficiency. “Why didn’t you tell your family?”

I don’t bother looking at him. I mange to squeeze out. “Not everyone’s family is as close as yours.” What would have been the point? More judgement, hypocrisy and recriminations? No, thank you.

Silence drops between us like a cannon ball — hot and loaded.

“You gave me a pass, so can you leave me be for a while?” I’m proud that my voice doesn’t sound choked. I’m even prouder that I don’t scream, cry and roll over the floor like a lunatic gnashing and wailing.

His highhandedness needs to stop. However, at the moment, I don’t have the words or energy to process any of what’s coming. I’m still on yesterday. My utter failure and preserving what little resolve I possess in dealing with this man. One touch from him and I melt. Yet, he looms over me now with disdain. Dare I to check, probably disgust at me being a terrible daughter by not saying anything to my family about Ayaan.

He drops the cover. “I’ll be here to escort you. Be ready.”

Pulling the covers over my head, I ignore him. He doesn’t deserve my story. He made up his mind about me long ago.

Now, I get to make an informed decision about him. He’s a judgmental asshole, who makes snaps decisions about folks when he doesn’t know anything about them.

Heat burns my eyes. Soon, the need to retch has me up and emptying the meager contents of my tummy into the toilet.

Trembling, I rinse the ick away as well as the remnants of the man who’s changed my life in the most glorious way in one moment and is now single-handedly ruining it now.

“You look beautiful.”Hassan’s cool gaze eats me up as he slowly walks around me, looking at the blue dress that matches his tie, pocket square and lapel pin of lapis lazuli. The modest creation is an intricate pattern of lace opening into a V that stops just at my décolletage, flowing into a sheer skirt that overlays another bejeweled skirt that stops at my ankles. Jeweled encrusted ballerina flats wait by the entrance of the suite will cover my feet for the evening.

“Thank you,” I murmur, not quite meeting his piercing gaze. He looks amazing, having changed into another exquisitely bespoke suit. The anxiety of the day almost took me under. I was so overwhelmed by the thought of seeing my family. From what Aliah says, all three of my sisters, Kadence, Song and Harmony, are here. I’m surprised my mother allowed them to come. I don’t know what persuasion the Al Rasheeds used to convince her to attend the dinner of her daughter, the liar. I’m sure me being rewarded for my sinful ways is the last thing she wants to have my sisters’ witness. Then there is Rob, the dick — my stepfather. Them being here obviously is his doing. Money and the chance to benefit some way off my fame has always been an incentive for his trifling ass.

Anytime there have been leaks about my life to the press about some diva behaving badly BS, I know exactly who is responsible. His presence in my life has been nothing good, save for the fact he’s my sisters’ father.

Thankfully, I had the entire day, thanks to Hassan’s consideration, allowing me to rest in the wake of his lovemaking, to face them all tonight. The guilt at having to leave them behind as I pursued my career. The only thing that saved me was theknowledge they didn’t have to endure my mom’s disdain, doubts and recriminations.

“Everyone is waiting on us in the receiving room. Here.” Taking my hand, he slips a blue diamond on my ring finger.

“It’s beautiful.” Eyeing the at least twenty carat pear-shaped cushion gem set on a titanium band, I wiggle my finger watching how it catches the light.

“It’s pales compared to you, jameela.” Knowing he’s just saying the smooth words as a polite response does nothing to prevent my heart from slamming against my rib cage at twice its previous rate.

“I bet you say that to all the girls you give ten-million dollar diamonds.” Smirking at him, I let myself take in the magnificence of his form. Clean shaven and smelling like heaven, he’s every temptation made real.

His strong, chiseled jaw kicks up. “Yeah, all one of them. Come, our families await.”

Taking his offered arm, I find a strange comfort in the muscles rippling beneath my fingers. I push down the trepidation sitting heavy in my heart, drawing on the strength I’ve always had have since I learned sometimes stepdads are the monsters hiding under the bed.

“So how did allthis come about?” Just as the second course is served, Mother frowns at me, looking around the grand expanse of the private family dining room of the Al Rasheed’s residence within the place grounds. It may as well be a halfway house for all she cares about the opulence. Her being unimpressed by wealth would be commendable if she weren’t being so fucking rude to her hosts. Which is her way of showing her disapprovalof what she deems are my choices — running away, living my dream in defiance of them, and now having a baby out of wedlock.

Like most royals, the Al Rasheed’s use the state dining room for official functions and a much smaller, yet just as posh room for family events.

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