Jane rushed down the deserted corridors toward the elevator. On the landing, she tapped the call button and tightened her grip on her laptop bag.
Did Mahsood drive all the way to Montgomery? No, he wouldn’t. She shuffled from one foot to another. No patience. She darted to the staircase and sprinted down.
The lamplight reflected in the huge dark windows of the stairwell.
She couldn’t see anything through them. Another flight and she barged into the empty lobby. At this hour, even the concierge had gone home. Pray she didn’t get locked in here. Jane shoved one of the hefty door panels and hurtled out of the building.
The heavy humidity of a summer night descended upon her. Occasional street lights illuminated the vast semidark parking area. Underneath one of them, right by the entrance, stood her husband’s Audi. Mahsood, dressed in a knee-length tunic and loosely-fitting pants, leaned on the car’s hood. His gaze lingered on her as he straightened up.
“Get in.” He walked over to the side and opened the passenger door, his eyes glued to the asphalt under his feet.
Jane’s cheeks warmed as images of the previous evening flooded her mind. Was he recalling it too? Is that why he wasn’t looking at her? She stepped toward the vehicle and hesitated.
“My car’s here.” She nodded toward her lonely Prius on the far end of the lot.
Mahsood’s chin jerked up. “You will not drive.” He glanced at her and looked back down. His tone softened. “Not at night on an intercity highway…Too dangerous.”
Jane chuckled. Mahsood’s erratic driving presented the biggest threat to her and other innocent motorists. Still, he seemed to care about her. Flutters spread through her stomach.
“I’ll need to come back here in the morning,” she said. Taking an Uber to Montgomery wasn’t in her budget.
“I’ll drop you off on the way to work.” He rounded the vehicle and climbed into the driver’s seat.
Jane batted her eyelashes. Uncle’s office sat around the corner from their mansion. Unless he had another one… The man owned gas stations all over the State. She slipped into the Audi, fastened her seatbelt, and gripped the overhead handle. This one-hour roller-coaster ride to Birmingham wouldn’t be for the weak of heart. She took a deep breath and held on.
With one hand on the steering wheel, Mahsood cruised onto the roadway.
He hadn’t explained how he ended up in Montgomery. Or how he knew where to find her. Jane opened her mouth to ask.
His phone chimed with some middle-eastern melody. He pressed a button on the front panel, turning on his auto’s Bluetooth. Through the speaker came Uncle Gafar’s mumbling in Urdu.
“Yes, Uncle. She's all right. Go rest.” Mahsood spoke in English.
He was making a point. Jane fidgeted. Who knew Uncle Gafar would lose sleep over her? She’d long since stopped reporting her whereabouts to anyone. She hadn’t had a live-in boyfriend for ages, and Mom resided on the other side of the State.
“Sorry. I didn’t think they would worry,” Jane said.
Mahsood furrowed his brow. “What world do you live in?” His voice surged. “You’re my wife, Uncle and Aunt's niece, and Awad’s cousin. You’re a woman who is out this late without advising her family. How can they not worry? Who do you take them for?” Huffing, he squeezed his fingers, his knuckles turning white. “Gafar tayaa brags about you every day, and Ilma tayi received you with her whole heart even though you are…different.”
Jane shrugged. No doubt Uncle’s chief concern was for his nephew’s green card. And Aunt Ilma’s warm care amounted to loading her with dirty dishes until dusk. She didn’t regard Mahsood’s relatives as her own. Having to stay with them was difficult enough.
“Next time I’ll call,” she said.
“This job is not for you.” Mahsood’s nostrils flared. “Find another. Or better, help tayi. She’s getting older, and you need to learn house management. We’ll buy you clothes and everything else with the family's money.”
Jane gaped. Quit a successful, prestigious, and well-paid position? Put an end to the career she’d built for years? And for what? To become a free maid for the Khans. A cold shiver ran over her. Jane clenched her fists. “No.” She looked at Mahsood. “This will never happen. Remember what I said—never.” She turned away. She had nothing else to say to him.
***
Houri stared into the blackness on the other side of the window. With her lips squeezed into a thin line, Jane’s face froze into a blank expression.
She didn’t reckon with his opinion, and he didn’t know what to do. He had no power over her. Mahsood returned his attention to the road ahead.
Father would lose his temper when Mother contradicted him. No matter how minor her transgression, Father’s response to her would be the same—divorce, social stigma, and loneliness. Mahsood gritted his teeth. The Quran gave men the unlimited power of divorce. But if he separated from houri, then all the more she wouldn’t listen to him. Of course, he could find another, more obedient wife. But, he didn’t want another wife. He wanted this wife to be obedient. Even though he despised her no less than he despised himself, he couldn’t imagine anyone else in her place. Indeed, Allah was wise in his rewards and punishments. Mahsood sighed as he wheeled the Audi into a parking spot in front of the mansion.
As soon as the vehicle stopped, Jane slipped out and hurried to the house.
He rested his chin on the steering wheel, watching her.
The slender figure moved through the fog. Several locks had loosened from her high hairdo and fluttered in the breeze. So fragile and gracious, she was a true creation of heaven. He’d never seen such a beautiful woman, seductive and cruel.
Mahsood closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he got out and headed inside. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and entered their bedroom.
The nightlight spilled onto the bedcovers that remained smooth and untouched. One of the bathroom’s double doors stood half open.
Mahsood crossed over and flung it ajar.
In the transparent shower stall, naked houri fumbled with the faucet.
He caught his breath. He’d forgotten these doors didn’t have latches and without them wouldn’t stay shut.
The water gushed and flowed along his wife’s perfect, snow-white curves, dripping down from her hardened nipples.
Mahsood swallowed. He should’ve left.
Houri wetted her hair and lathered it, arching her delicate neck.
Just like the model in the Playboy magazine over which he’d lost sleep in his youth.
She moved on to her bosom, caressing it with a loofah.
Sweat rolled down Mahsood’s forehead and trickled to his collarbone. She’d argued with him. Had disobeyed him. Had refused to understand when he’d pleaded and explained. Mahsood unbuttoned his sherwani and dropped it to the floor. In two strides, he reached the shower, jerked the door open, and barged inside.
Houri turned her head, and her blue eyes widened. Staring at him, she bit her lip.
Planting his palm on her back, he traced up and sunk his fingers into her dripping hair. He pushed her forward, spooning her against the wall.
The sweet, flowery scent of soap mixed with the rising steam. Jets of hot water hit Mahsood’s temple and rolled down his shoulders. His soaked cotton kameez clung to his torso.
Jane’s face strained, and her breasts rubbed against the rough stone-like tile.
Mahsood groaned. He slid a knee between houri’s legs and loosened the ties of his salwar. With his left hand, he guided his penis into her folds.
Houri pressed her behind against him. She rotated her hips, bringing him deeper inside.
Mahsood clenched his jaw. Even in this, she couldn’t follow his lead. He caught her forearms and raised them above her head, locking her wrists in a tight grip. He slithered his other palm across her navel and down to her mound.
Jane moaned and wriggled in his hold. Sultry sleekness engulfed his fingertips.
He drew them up and down her sex, then halted. Mahsood lowered his mouth to his wife’s ear. “Will you do as I say, angel?”
“Mmm…” She wedged her butt against him.
“I don’t hear you.”
“Yes…just don’t stop.” She whimpered.
He smiled and with full force thrust into her. He plundered the depths of her, stretching her to the limit. Her silky tightness squelched and glided along his length. Mahsood panted, his hand vacillating between Jane’s nipples, pinching one and then moving to the other.
Houri rasped and squirmed underneath him. Bits of foam flowed along her lustrous hair and down her back. She tensed, her muscles spasming around his manhood. Her body shook, and she cried out.
An orgasm shattered Mahsood’s entire being, plunging him into a sweet delirium. With his penis pulsating inside of her, he leaned forward, both hands planted on the wall. Arching his back, he gasped as semen shot out of him and flooded houri’schannel.
Jane trembled and dropped her head back on his shoulder, her wet locks sticking to his stubbled cheek.
Mahsood wheezed. Holding her against him, he shut off the tap and stepped out of his salwar that had long fallen to the floor. He pulled his drenched kameez over his head and reached for the towels. Wrapping one around his middle, he threw another one over his wife’s shoulders, then lifted her up.
Jane’s arms flew up and wrapped around his neck. She buried her nose against his chest. “Thank you,” she said.
Mahsood grumbled and, with houri nestled against him, stalked to the bedroom.
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