Page 60 of The Geek and the Sheikh

Colin had hesitated. There had been something in Colin’s eyes that he had never seen before—a flash of fear. Colin had covered it, but Andrius was sure that was the emotion that had been in the other man’s eyes for that split second.

Colin had ripped off a piece of cardboard, written a number on it, and shoved it into the pocket of Andrius's shirt. He had started to reach for the piece, but Colin had reached out and gripped his wrist in a brutal grip.

“Do not call that number unless you have no other choice. If you do, I hope the number is no longer good because if it is… then god help you. You'll be dealing with the devil himself.”

Those chilling words were the last ones Colin Coldhouse had spoken to him. He turned the flat fibrous material between his fingers and played Coldhouse’s chilling warning over and over in his mind.

“...tell us who thou art... thy living feet dost move along through Hell. He in whose footprints thou dost see me treading..."

Andrius murmured the quote fromDante’s Inferno’s Canto XVIby Dante Alighieri. He had not thought of the poem in decades. What did Colin mean? What kind of man could frighten a man like Colin Coldhouse? A man without a soul.

Only the Devil himself.

He curled his fingers around his cellphone, punched in the number, and waited. He was about to hang up on the fifth ring when the telltale click alerted him that someone had answered.

“I have a job for you,” he said in greeting.

Seventeen

“Oh, Jameel. I love it when you’re naked. I think the Greeks and Romans were onto something with their appreciation for the human body,” Junebug said with a happy sigh.

Junebug’s voice, laden with desire, stopped Jameel in his tracks between the bedroom and the bathroom. He had been drying his damp hair and thinking of her. Gilbert had escorted him to this room after dinner and drinks while Junebug had disappeared with Agatha.

His plan was to shower then search the upper bedrooms to check on her. Instead, he was greeted with a vision lying on his bed wearing his shirt. He swallowed hard.

Wearing my unbuttoned shirt.

“That looks a hell of a lot better on you than it does on me,” he replied.

His brain had short-circuited somewhere around the word naked. He completely agreed with her assessment on that part. He had a living, breathing Aphrodite in his bed.

The towel in his hand fell to the floor while his other hand tugged at the one wrapped around his waist. He tossed it onto the end of the bed. Seconds later, he was crawling up her body.

She slid down as he climbed. The heat of his skin and the chill on hers created a delicious contrast, adding another layer of sensitivity to their coming together. His lips latched onto one of her extended nipples. The rosy bud was hard as a pebble and begging for his hot tongue. Her loud gasp and the way she gripped his head on both sides to hold him to her sent fire straight to his shaft.

“Oh, yeah. This feels like one of my hot spots,” she moaned.

Her hips were rocking back and forth. She was doing her damnedest to get as close to him as humanly possible. She wound one of her legs between his thighs. One second, he was laying over her, and the next he was on his back with her straddling him.

“I think I could get used to this position,” he murmured, reaching up to grasp her nipples.

“Keep doing that,” she moaned.

His little Junebug was a wildcat. She was rubbing her body along his, taunting him with wicked words of all that she wanted to do to him. The images she was creating in his mind were dark and delicious.

“What do you want me to do to you? Do you want me to swallow you?” she breathed in his ear.

“Yes," he choked out. "I want to watch you. Oh, sweet heaven, where did you learn that?”

“It is amazing what you can learn online if you know where to look,” she murmured.

He tilted his head back, bowed his body, and let her have her way. She rose up, gripped his throbbing cock, and rolled a condom over it before she sank down, her silky-smooth core encasing his cock like a glove.

"Oh," he gasped with pleasure and humor. "You wanted the shirt for the pockets, huh? How many condoms do you have in there?"

"A few." She grinned as she leaned over him, and then began riding him in earnest. The only sound in the room came from their kisses, their moans, and their bodies sliding against each other. She bit down on his earlobe, then sucked the sting away. He was learning that she liked to not only use her hands, but her mouth when they made love.

“I want to—” she said, her voice broken by their kisses.

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