5 comments/ 11388 views/ 16 favorites The Little Taste of Marrakech By: MistressRum_Cocoa It was 15 minutes before ten pm and the spacious, yet cozy, Moroccan restaurant and bar was packed. Friday and Saturday nights were always the busiest nights at the restaurant but tonight it was a haven. Given the gentle rain outside and the drop in spring temperature, the restaurant provided warmth, comfort and distraction. The wall of the establishment was exposed brick, the floors were made of stained bamboo, and there were tasteful touches of morocco. The light fixtures were stained glass lanterns that cast a warm ethereal glow depending upon the colors. Every booth and chair was well cushioned and covered in fabric weaved with elaborate colors. Most importantly it reminded Aziz of home. He'd wanted to create something relaxing and cozy where guest wouldn't feel the need to sit upright and eat then dash out the door. Aziz received exactly what he wanted due to careful planning and anal overseeing. To say that Aziz was anal was an understatement. Most of his staff, in fact, thought he had OCD. All candles had to be perfectly centered on the tables. The cutlery must be spotless, the napkins folded a certain way, and he must check the staff's uniforms before the night began. His personal assistant, a short stocky Sudanese girl named Bethany, normally did the once over before he got there but sometimes she missed things. Bethany was like his left hand to his right. She handled the iceberg of his business while he was able to handle the rest. Regardless, Aziz was a thorough man who double-checked and triple checked things. Tonight, Aziz took a drag of his hookah and spoke casually with his colleagues. He'd made sure to sit them in a cozy booth under the window so that at any moment Aziz chose to drown out the sound and music of the restaurant he could substitute it with rain. They spoke of the usual business, of mistresses and wives, of children, of mail order brides, and lastly of money. The arguments were never anything new. It was always about who made more, whether their business practices were ethical or unethical. On average, Aziz was the quieter of the bunch. He was always much of a listener but tonight, after a few beers; he joined in a little bit more. It was to his distraction of course. She was dancing tonight. When she was dancing, it captivated everyone's attention. That scared Aziz and he wasn't a man to fear much. He'd been shot twice, nicked in a knife fight once nearly losing his eye, and been in his share of brawls. At 32 he'd made sure to leave that behind years ago but the one thing he did fear was the power a woman had over a man. Aziz knew all too well what the love of a woman could do to a man and he'd vowed that wouldn't be him. He would rather be shot again, before that. Normally, he didn't have anything against women. Aziz found himself to be a handsome man. He had olive skin a bit on the darker side, a buff body that wasn't anything like those body builders. His hair fell in long raven waves to his shoulders, a strong jaw line with a well-trimmed beard and moustache a little longer than stubble. Women came to him all the time and he bedded a few but never stayed with any of them. Now, she on the other hand garnered far too much of his attention. As if on cue, the music began and she sauntered out, hips rolling from side to side, two sabers balanced on her head. Sasha Montano stepped onto the circular platform erected in the middle of the restaurant. As always the music was live and filled the space, drowning out the stream of conversations. Aziz tried to continue to engage his fellow businessmen but all he received was half assed answers. He knew it was pointless because when Sasha begins to dance all previous thoughts dissolve faster than Alka-Seltzer in water. The first time he experienced it, Aziz was dumbstruck. He'd seen many dancers before but none left him staring, mouth agape, and a raging hard on. Sasha was beautiful; every man knew it and so did she. Her height was average, about 5'5 but that was the only average thing about her. Tonight she wore an ivory and gold costume with aquamarine accents. The colors offset her burnt sienna skin perfectly that the audience had no choice but to look at her. As Sasha's hips dropped and swiveled, Aziz's eyes followed the movement ignoring the catcalls and sounds of encouragement thrown Sasha's way. Lowering one of the sabers, Sasha brought it broadside to her crotch and wriggled suggestively. Then flipped if over her hand, grabbed the hilt, and swiveled it behind her back in one motion to hover it over her ass as she worked that area turning slowly for all to see. Aziz tapped his foot under the table, trying to think about anything but what his eyes were focused on. She had the perfect ass. Two nicely sized semi-globes that moved in time with wide hips. What would his cock feel like plunging into all that cushion, he wondered from time to time. In fact, once she did this burlesque belly dance fusion while she stripped. Seeing that ass in various stages of undress had him nutting for days. That ass and the c-cup rack Sasha was currently balancing the edge of the saber on. She leaned back halfway, rolled her stomach muscles, with one leg lifted, all the while continuing to balance each saber on her rack and her foot. With a mischievous spark in her brown eyes, Sasha flicked her foot up, caught the saber, snatched the second off her breasts, and began to dance in time to the quickening music while wielding each saber like a seasoned professional. Jiggle, shake, roll, swivel, spin, Aziz's eyes kept up until the room came to complete silence. Sasha smirked knowingly when the audience erupted in applause. Sasha turned in Aziz's direction and bowed to him. She always did that whenever he was in the room. Aziz clapped grudgingly, keeping his face stoic. Of course she was good, one of the best he'd seen. He had given Bethany the task of finding new talent. When Bethany came to him with Sasha, Aziz had to admit he was skeptical. When he first met Sasha, she was a Diva in every sense of the word. She was arrogant, temperamental, stubborn, but very intelligent. She was still that way. Every time he brought himself to the brink of firing her, he always ended up booking her for an extra day. Their original agreement a year ago was she would dance once a month. Yet, if one of his bands canceled, she would be the first he dialed. Then he found himself dialing for her to fill in even when there wasn't anything booked. Now, he just had Bethany deal with her. The two seemed to get along quite nicely. Every time he complained to Bethany about Sasha, Bethany would always keep this annoying-knowing smirk on her face. What the hell did she know that Aziz didn't? Not a single person could frazzle Aziz the way Sasha did. Sasha knew it too because then she would get that annoying-knowing smirk on her face. It was as if he was being double-teamed, triple-teamed if you counted Irena his bartender. Sasha left the stage to change and the live music continued. She had two more performances to do before the night was done but the live music gave her a brief respite in between each performance. As she sashayed her way to the back locker rooms, Sasha's eyes locked with Aziz's and she nodded in greeting. If it was one thing, she always showed him respect regardless of their differences. Sasha gave Aziz that smirk he hated so much then disappeared into the back. For Sasha, tormenting the uptight Aziz was a favorite past time. He was always so quiet and reserved. Never a button out of place, no stains on his shirt, shoes always shined, and sometimes he'd taken to picking up things with his handkerchief. There was even a bottle of hand sanitizer in his blazer pocket. He rarely wore sneakers or jeans, and if he did, they all looked like it came right off the rack or out the box. She used to frequent the restaurant months before she ever started dancing for him. Whether she was by herself or with her friends, Sasha always noticed Aziz hovering in the shadows. He was very invested in his business. More like a lot of control issues. Sasha smiled as she shimmied out of her skirt and fumbled with her top. A pair of cool hands rested on her gently. "Let me help you with that, girl." It was Irena. The olive skinned bartender was about 5'9 in height, built like a model. Actually, Irena did do some modeling on the side. "Thanks." Sasha lifted her thick curly hair, as Irena worked with the buttons. It was because of Irena that Aziz and Sasha managed to exchange their first words. -_-_-_- Sasha walked into the restaurant by herself on dreary Wednesday evening. It had been snowing outside so the warmth of the restaurant was a welcomed feeling. As soon as she entered the restaurant, Sasha was approached by one of the waitresses. Eight out of the ten waitresses were from the Middle East or North Africa. All of Arabic descent, Sasha noticed. "Hello, Miss. Table for one?" The waitress asked. Her voice heavily accented. "Uh, no. I think I'll just sit by the bar." Sasha gave the waitress a tired smile. "As you wish." The waitress gestured for her to go to the bar. Dropping her tote on the seat, Sasha unwound her long thick knitted scarf from her neck. She didn't like hats much so all her scarves were long enough to use as a hood too. As she looked around the restaurant, Sasha noticed that it was practically empty. Not surprising really, it was one of those miserable days that people stayed in their houses and out of the cold. Not Sasha, she needed some drinks in her system after yesterday. She had one of those days when she had it to the pinnacle of her patience and beyond with her employer. After the nagging bitch daughter of the gallery director tried to tell her how to do her job as a gallery assistant, Sasha had lost her cool and told her to stick the photographs, the catalogue, and the schedule up her ass to say the least. Sasha said a few more things that were a bit nastier than that but she made sure to drink all those memories away last night. It was now day two and Sasha felt like she had some celebratory moping to do. While today was stress free it was also a reminder that Sasha just kissed goodbye to good pay, decent medical benefits, and dental. Today, she was able to curl up and read a book, play with her cat, and practice her dancing. It gave her time to think about what she'd done. Too much thinking leaves one to bleak freedom paved with nothingness. So who better to talk too than the bartender of the restaurant whose heard numerous woe-is-me stories. On cue, Irena backed out the door that led to the kitchens with a large and heavy looking box in hand. She rests the box on the bar top, bent and fumbled with whatever was beneath the bar. Sasha walked waywardly a little further down the bar toward Irena, and leaned over the bar. "Hey, stranger!" Sasha looked down grinning as Irena looked up. "Ah, came to get shit faced again?" Irena grinned up at her acquaintance. "I heard you hit the pub on the corner last night after quitting your job." "How'd you know that?" Sasha stood up straight as Irena did. The two leaned on opposite sides of the bar faces inches from each other. Sasha's light brown eyes looking into Irena's green ones. "Well, you know me. I take care of my boos." Irena looked Sasha over suggestively then winked. Sasha reached up and tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind Irena's ear. Her fingers traced over the eyebrows, over the strong nose known in Mediterraneans, across the bow shaped lips, and caressed the softness of Irena's jaw line. "You are such a man-whore!" Sasha smiled. "I bet it was the cute bus boy that walked me home last night. I was hoping to score with him last night! Ahhh! I'm so glad I didn't! I would have compared myself to you all night!" Sasha covered her face in mock embarrassment. "We either need to stop going after the same men or you need to stop sleeping with half the city." "Or maybe you need to move a little faster." Irena laughed at Sasha, head shaking. "So what will it be to start off your happy hour?" "Hmm, let's start light... How about a Margarita?" Sasha sat down and settled in next to her bag. "That's at light start?" Irena looked at her funny shaking her head. "Girl that is a rock and not a pebble, okay!" Nonetheless the bartender went about making the drink while Sasha grinned from ear to ear. "You didn't even say a martini." "Martini's are for wusses. I want some pina colada next!" "Hon, you do realize it is below twenty outside right?" Irena set the drink down in front of her. "Did you lose some sense along with that job of yours?" Sasha blew out a breath long and hard. "I think so. Fine, all hot drinks after this starting with a Caribbean coffee." "Now that I can do." Irena stated. The two ladies chatted aimlessly as Irena served other customers as the evening went into night. By this time, Sasha had enough drinks in her system that her eyes glistened and she leaned slightly to one side. Aziz, who'd been watching, thought that it was time he stepped in. Sliding behind the bar he gently took Irena's arm. "Don't you think it is time you cut her off?" Aziz gave Sasha a once over. "I already did. It's been regular coffee the last two cups." Irena beamed. "I got my girl. She'll be okay." "As a man I don't think you should even allowed her to get to this point as your woman." Aziz chastised lightly. "Hey!" Sasha was suddenly right next to them. "Don't you pick on her! I'm the customer and if I said I want more then she gives it to me." "With all due respect, miss, you need to go to the other side of the bar." Aziz said coolly, "And how I choose to reprimand my employees is my business. I am paying them." "Fuck that..." Sasha leaned against the bar. "I don't care who paying who. You employers always think you can get away with any and everything and no one's gonna tell you anything!" Aziz looked to Irena questioningly. Sasha wasn't making a lot of noise, she wasn't even swaying, nor was she disturbing any of the customers. The situation, however, was fast becoming uncomfortable for Aziz personally. He was being put on the spot. He thought he was sticking up for Sasha. He already knew Irena was a man. The only thing Aziz requested was that Irena wore pants instead of dresses to work. Irena complied by wearing female pants that complemented his figure but pants nonetheless. "Just let her vent, she just lost her job." Irena mumbled. "I mean you think you get to say and do whatever all because you're signing the check but people have feelings too." Sasha gestured to Irena, "Poor girl doesn't even want to be a he... or called he. She wants to be feminine so you must respect that!" While Sasha went on and on, Irena patted Aziz on the back and went back to servicing customers. Aziz felt trapped taking the rant that probably would have been said to Sasha's former employer. When Sasha finally came to a close Aziz was livid. He was called everything from cheap and disrespectful to shoddy and questionable manhood. After Sasha handed Irena her credit card to pay, she snatched up her tote a little too roughly and giggled her head off when it weighed her down. She stepped toward the door but Irena called after her. Out of annoyance Aziz picked up Sasha and took her to break area dropping her on the couch. He threw her coat and tote on the nearby chair. "Hey! Y-you can't treat me like this! I'm a customer!" "Exactly! Which is why I can tell you whatever the hell I want because there will be more customers after you." Aziz stood and lifted her chin forcing her to look up at him. "You're drunk, so I'll excuse your rudeness. Secondly, whatever went on between you and your employer, taking it out on other employers will only ensure you a jobless life. Thirdly, if you want to do whatever you want then open up your own place!" "Oh my!" Sasha giggled clapping her hands and swayed in her seat. "We've got ourselves a badass here." "You're lucky you're a regular so I'm not tossing your ass on the street, lady." Aziz snapped as he forced her into a laying position. "Now sleep it off so Irena can take you home in the next 2 hours and the next time I see you, you'd better come back with a sober mind and a better attitude, lightweight!" "Lightweight!" Sasha floundered to sit up but Aziz held her down, so she grabbed his collar pulling his face closer. "Bring me a bottle and we can talk about who's the lightweight!" "At most I am bringing you is another coffee!" Aziz was anxious to get away from such close proximity to Sasha. He tried to pry her fingers from his shirt all the while praying she didn't wrinkle his clothing. On top of that her breath smelled of coffee and alcohol. It could have been worse, it could have been stale coffee or coffee and vomit considering her drunkenness. Finally prying off her fingers, Aziz stepped out to the bar to retrieve her coffee. "Please choose your friends better, Irena." Aziz frowned. "Really? I thought she was doing a great job at rallying to the cause of employees." Irena grinned. "Please don't start!" Aziz gave the man a sharp look before turning back to the coffeemaker. "Bad enough you left me there with her. Just take her home when your shift is over." "Of course. I never let my friends hang." Irena wiped down the bar once he cleared away the customers. By the time Aziz returned with the coffee, Sasha was fast asleep. He rests the coffee on the table and surveyed Sasha's sleeping form. How'd she walk over through the ice and snow in those 4' high boots. She could have broken his scrawny neck. Women! -_-_-_- Sasha swathed herself in a black and gold costume this time. This one was a little more tribal than the last, darker in feel. Irena pulled Sasha's unruly curly hair into a ponytail as Sasha touched up her make up. It was normal for them not to speak much when Sasha was in the mad dash of getting dressed. "I think you should use the spear this time." Irena suggested, picking out the unruly curls so it haloed Sasha's head more evenly. "Element of danger." "Nah, maybe next one where the dance is more sensual. I don't have as much room for the spear as I did the swords. I might accidentally spear someone." Sasha giggled darkly. "Could you imagine what Aziz's face would look like if we got blood on his precious floors?" "He'd have you head, this time among other things!" Irena's eyes twinkled as she chuckled. By this time, Irena had been taking her daily supplements including estrogen. Her features looked more feminine. She handed Sasha the twin daggers and Sasha tucked them into various parts of her costume. "Is he enjoying it at least? I can't tell at all." Sasha began to walk out, Irena on her heels. "I should think he is. Before I came back here he ordered a bottle of red zinfandel." Irena nitpicked with Sasha's hair as she walked behind her. "What? I thought it was against his religion or his culture to drink?" Sasha stopped walking and looked up at Irena. "That's my point. He's usually such a steadfast man and you're the only woman to make him drink." "Bullshit. Make him stop." Sasha signaled for the musicians that she was ready. "I need him sober when I ask for an advance so he can't use 'too much drink' against me as an excuse. And bring me that spear!" She passed Irena the daggers as she returned with the spear. Sasha put on a smile as the music began and she sashayed out again. "Easier said than done temptress." Irena muttered as she slinked off. Sasha slunk out into the crowd weaving between the tables, purposefully slow, pausing to do stomach rolls all the while keeping the spear behind her. Aziz sat up in his seat. He'd never seen this one before. Yeah, Sasha normally did tribal fusion but usually with daggers and sabers, things that were a safe distance. Aziz tried to make eye contact with her but Sasha deftly ignored him. He poured himself a glass of wine as he quickly calculated the height of his ceiling, the distance between the light fixtures the audience and her reach. Aziz began to sweat under the collar as his fellow businessmen murmured in delight, eager to see where this was going to go. Aziz gulped down the first glass of wine then poured himself another. The Little Taste of Marrakech Ch. 02 Sunday morning, Aziz made his way out the restaurant kitchen to the small beautiful courtyard behind his restaurant. The rain had finally stopped in the wee hours of the morning and the sun shone brightly over the courtyard. He placed the freshly made bread on the round table next to the assortment of jams. The table could easily seat six, just as comfortable as it could seat two. It was made as an equivalent to the chef's table put in the courtyard right off the kitchen. The courtyard was small and intimate. Here were flowers planted along the mosaic walls, a fountainhead of a lion spewed water gently into the pool below where floating lotus blossoms bobbed and swayed. His Somali cat, Mina, sat at the pool's edge observing his master's movements while the bushy tail swished back and forth. It was meant to be a sanctuary away from the bustle of the outside world. It held up well, really. So much so that it was the meeting spot for Sunday brunch between him, Irena, and Ibrahim. Truthfully, Sasha invited herself one Sunday with Irena and never left. Free food and drink always got Sasha through anyone's door. The woman had a hearty appetite and that much he could admire. Aziz smirked as he looked down at the set table. He was rather proud of himself. Even though he always cooked Sunday brunch, didn't mean he was always happy with it. However, there was an added addition. Towards the middle of the table was a flower arrangement that boasted Maui flowers, Orchids, foliage and Bird of Paradise. The latter was Sasha's favorite flower. Trust Sasha to favor a flower that looks as though it can take someone's eye out. Aziz chuckled to himself as he stroked the orange petal of Bird of Paradise. Then he sighed. In his heart Aziz knew that the flowers were just a peace gesture to placate his own guilt. Over the last two days he'd contemplated how to address Friday night's folly. No matter how he convinced himself, Aziz couldn't help but feel as though he had gone overboard. Yes, Sasha had pushed up on him but she'd done that many times before. However, not once had she come to touching him inappropriately. On top of that, the look on her face was not one he could erase and it made him afraid. There was sadness, disappointment, and fear in the expression that marred her beautiful features just before she replaced her mask. He'd seen sadness and disappointment on her features but never fear. The fear is what bothered him the most. Sasha was his lioness... His? Before he could explore the thought further, the sound of footsteps got his attention. "Why are you looking at flowers so intently, my friend?" Ibrahim rubbed his scruff in an just-woke-up fashion. And indeed he must have because he was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Sunday brunch was the only time Ibrahim could care less who saw him on the way over to Aziz's restaurant. "No reason." Aziz said quickly. "Nothing to see, really." "Aziz Dehbi is finally losing it, eh?" Ibrahim eyes his friend suspiciously, "First, chuckling at flowers then scolding at them, now denying their existence." Aziz gave his friend a sharp look before retreating to the kitchen to put the kettle to boil. "Woman troubles, I suspect." Ibrahim smiled mischievously. "Really? Then maybe Sasha has man troubles because girlfriend would not, and could not get out of bed this morning." Irena strut in briskly, whipping off her sunglasses. A hangover is what I suspect." "Oh please! The last time she had food poisoning and she still brought herself to breakfast!" Aziz grumbled from the kitchen. "She's just whining!" The two men exchanged looks. "Know something we don't?" Irena tilted her head right back through the open doorway. There wasn't really a need too considering the doorway was made of sliding glass. "No!" Aziz snapped at them as he walked past them right to the table, kettle in hand. "Now eat or starve." Aziz went about pouring tea his brows knitted in concentration. A strand of hair fell from his loose ponytail into his eyes. If Sasha were here she would have tucked it in for him without a second glance backward. Aziz frowned, why was she cowering. She never cowered. How do I know that? He chastised himself. Because she doesn't like to lose... He was concentrating so much on his thoughts that Aziz almost missed Mina reaching for the salami on the table. Gently he lifted Mina off the table and back onto the ground. "I'll put you back inside, you bad boy!" Aziz sat down and the other two followed suit and began to eat brunch. "Just know that she'll come. Late, but she will come." _-_-_- After Irena's departure, Sasha slunk out of bed and into the bathroom looking like the red-eyed, bedraggled, lioness. Quite frankly her head felt like she had the life force drained out of her. How she'd made it home last night after the bachelorett party was beyond her. At first, Sasha had RSVP-ed that she wasn't coming a little over a week ago. Then Friday night rolled around and Sahsa found herself in a real state of depression after what happened. She ate twice as much while sitting in front the tv screen playing point, shoot, and/or stab video games on her PS3. Sasha was a firm believer that when one can't act out violently in reality, video games will suffice. She'd learned this years ago in her middle school stages. Sasha always had a temper that sometimes ended in things being destroyed or people being hurt. It was something she had to learn to control very quickly after two arrests. For Sasha, sadness would turn to anger and anger would turn to rage very quickly. Even though it took quite some time for her to get to the point of anger, it was always simmering. One transgression would add to another until the cauldron boiled over. She didn't know what to feel after what happened with Aziz Friday night. A part of her hoped that he was serious. Aziz had encroached on territory that usually, is quite forbidden to joke about. Sasha'd been beating the thoughts back about if he was serious or if what he did was truly all in jest. That hard on wasn't a joke. Every bit of it was solid, pulsing, and hot. Sasha gripped the edges of the quartz bowl that made up her sink as hot pulse struck her core. Friday night she was fighting with herself not to break her morals and to keep their banter light but the moment Aziz snaked his hand up her shirt, Sasha had forgotten all about where they were and the why nots. Sasha turned on the cold water and splashed her face. Yes, she wanted Aziz Dehbi. She'd wanted him for months now. But the divide and conquer Sasha could never bring herself to openly tell him. There was always this nagging insecurity that he wanted a nice Arab girl that suited his taste or that her burnt sienna complexion was too dark for him. Rejection was not an answer- ever- to Sasha. If she had ever taken no for an answer in her life; the world had better believe she was coming back stronger, better, more determined than ever to make it rue the day it told her no. It was all fun and games till someone got hurt. Sasha squared her shoulders as she looked at her face in the mirror again. So what she got her feelings hurt. Mama never taught her to be a coward. Sasha was going to this breakfast and deal with Aziz just like she normally would. Nothing her insecurities said was going to change that fact. After a shower and some eye drops, Sasha stepped out the door with her purse in hand and head held high. As she walked to her designated parking spot, Sasha dug around for her keys only to find that they weren't there. That didn't seem right. This was the purse that she used last night. When Sasha finally looked up, it seemed as though her car decided to follow her keys to the kingdom of lost. Apparently, arriving toward the end of brunch was now in play. Well, if that was the way life wanted to play it, then Sasha would follow suit. Forget the wedges, she whipped out a pair of stylish boat shoes from her purse and stuffed her feet into them. Sasha had ten long blocks to rehash the night; between when she left for the bar to arriving home at four in the morning. -_-_-_-_- By the time she arrived, the men were finishing their second round of eating. Mina was the first to notice her arrival and leapt off of Aziz's lap to strut across the courtyard in her direction. The cat wound himself around Sasha's legs and let out a contented purr when she scratched behind his ears. Aziz looked up from his plate and visibly relaxed but his eyes narrowed once he honed in on her pants. Today she wore those pants he abhorred so much. They were supposed to be skinny jeans but were a size too big for her. That wasn't the part that bothered him the most though. It was the fact that those pants had every stain imaginable that didn't go away after washing. There were paint stains, food stains, even oil stains, singe marks, and lastly rips and frays at the knees and threadbare, including a hole, on the inner thigh. Sasha called them her 'comfort' jeans; the pants she wore when she didn't want to wear sweatpants. They were rolled up a few inches above the ankles and hung loosely off her hips with a leather belt. The plaid button up blouse was tucked in and paired with a purse and boat shoes. The entire get-up on that fine line where it looked like she got dressed in the dark, when in fact, Aziz knew damn well Sasha was just too lazy to give a damn. He liked to call those jeans the-don't-give-a-damns. However, nothing would give Aziz more pleasure than stuffing it in his fire pit and adding lots and lots of lighter fluid. Even so, the overall outfit was passable enough to walk out on the street in. "Hello Mina. Everyone!" Sasha grinned, as she plopped herself down between Ibrahim and Irena. "Oh my god! So sorry I'm late. I had to walk all the way over here." "Um... Why?" Irena asked. "You could barely get out of bed this morning." "Well..." Sasha stalled by putting rose jam on her pita bread. "My car wasn't where I thought I left it." "What?" Aziz looked at her confused as he placed the halal salami in front of her. "I gave all the tenants designated parking spots. You and Irena included." "I know, I know, but-!" "Come to think about it. It wasn't in the parking lot this morning." Irena popped a grape into her mouth. "Where is your car?" "I was kind of hoping you could tell me that..." Sasha looked embarrassed looking down at her plate. Ibrahim burst out laughing. "Oh this is good! She lost her car again!" "Again?" Aziz looked at him questioningly, nudging a free strand of hair out of his face. He'd never known Sasha to be irresponsible. "Shut up! I didn't lose it!" She took a bite out of her pita bread to mask her next sentence. "Ay joos dun no where eet iz." "Hmm, that sounds familiar. Did you lose it in a game again?" Irena grinned. "Does Ibrahim have to play a few rounds of poker to get it back for you?" "How do you lose a car, Sasha?" Nor did he know her to be a gambler. Aziz couldn't help but smile despite the seriousness of the situation. "Do you at least have the keys?" Sasha cleared her throat and stuffed her mouth even more avoiding eye contact. "I take that as a 'no'." Ibrahim chuckled. "How much did you really have to drink last night, lightweight?" "I'm not a lightweight!" Now we got to the heart of the matter. Aziz shook his head. Two drinks should be Sasha's limit, always. He had to instill that upon her after his first encounter with her drunken ranting. An episode, Sasha conveniently forgot about afterward. "Yes you are!" Irena answered for everyone. "Look, whatever. It's either two places. The police impound or with the bartender at the cabaret club." "Or stolen." Ibrahim chimed for good measure. "Man, be quiet!" she whacked him a couple of times playfully. "Christ! You just keep wishing ill on me!" "Me?" Ibrahim's eyes opened widely. Sasha hissed as she through him an annoyed look. Aziz rose from the table, taking the teapot with him. "I'll go make you some fresh tea and then you can tell us all about your night at the cabaret club where you "misplaced" your vehicle." When he reached the kitchen he heard Sasha ask about the bouquet on the table. "Hey, what's with the obnoxious flowers?" she grinned jokingly, "I hope the owner wouldn't notice if I snagged one." "I hope not. I think they're yours after all." Irena smiled. "Bullshit!" Sasha shook her head. "No one's ever given me flowers before." "There's a first for everything." Ibrahim stated kind of serious. Sasha didn't respond. After the tea was made and Aziz was settled, Sasha launched into her story of how she remembered the night going. Though there were some holes to fill, the trio listening found themselves laughing at appropriate moments and cracking their own jokes. It wasn't long before Aziz found himself paying more attention to Sasha's facial expressions and mannerisms than what she spoke of. It was well after one, when Ibrahim decided to leave. Irena had some errands to run so as the late straggler Sasha stayed on to help Aziz clean up. For a while they remained in silence as she washed dishes and Aziz cleared away the table and put away any extra food. When he was finished with his duties Aziz studied Sasha's form. The girl was balanced on one leg, the adjacent leg was bent at the knee and bracing the first. It was an awkward pose that she would occasionally shift from leg to leg as she washed. Sahsa was relaxed except for the posture of her shoulders that alerted him to her awareness of him. He'd noted the way she watched him in silence from the corner of her eyes. Even now, Sasha was aware of Aziz's gaze on her. She refused to be the first to break the silence though. Always, Sasha wanted to be near Aziz, soaking up his warmth and his attention. A lot of the times she felt silly and would suddenly find a reason to leave. Even now, Sasha could feel herself becoming antsy. Aziz's scrutinizing wasn't helping either. "How are you feeling? Better since this morning's hang over?" Aziz asked. "Mhmm..." Sasha smiled, "All thanks to your lovely tea. It gave me my strength back." "You make it sound like an elixer." He nudged her gently before continuing. "You shouldn't drink so much. Nights like last night could turn dangerous." "Don't start, mister." Sasha turned over a glass and continued on. "I'm twenty-six years of age and frankly I don't go out much. I'm a homebody outside of here and work. Last night was an excuse to let loose." "Hmm... was losing your car part of that plan?" Aziz teased. "Here we go again." Sasha stopped washing and looked at him. "I simply forgot it. I remember dropping the keys in a jar with the bartender! I think that's pretty responsible." "Please, Sasha. I'm beginning to think you'd lose your head if it wasn't attached to your body!" he continued. "Remember the time your forgot your clientele book here?" "Among other things..." she snorted. Her response wasn't one he was expecting. "Like?" Sasha looked at him for a moment, her eyebrows knitted together with a deciding expression. There was a response lurking behind her eyes and was just on the tip of her tongue but instead Aziz could see her visibly choosing a different answer. "Like as a kid I used to go shopping with my mom and forget the shopping bags I was holding in the previous store. I would always put it down when some mischief caught my attention." What Sasha really wanted to say was something along the lines of her heart, but that would be far too cheesy. Aziz laughed. "I bet you took your share of beatings for that." "You got that right." Sasha nodded, smiling more to herself that to him. "Or once I went on vacation to Venezuela to visit my father's family and lost my glasses under their half built house." "You wear glasses?" "Sometimes. I mainly wear my contacts now." Sasha drained the sink and emptied excess food waste into the trash bin. "I only wear my glasses at night before bed or if I'm home all day." When she looked up, Aziz was in the middle of scrutinizing her again. Aziz picked up a dishtowel and began to dry the dishes when he realized he was staring. Imagine that... Aziz felt compelled to know more. There were many things on his mind that he wanted to ask her on top of wanting to apologize. "I couldn't tell how blind you were, given how accurate you are at cleaning up." He teased. "Well, I'm used to it. I clean up after Irena, or my ma or pa cooks. I don't do the cooking- ever- and it is better for everyone that way." Aziz paused midway drying and studied Sasha. "You don't cook?" "Come on, Zi. Ever notice I show up after all the cooking is said and done? I think it is a fair trade I clean up, no?" Sasha laughed at this confused facial expression. It then dawned on him that she was right. He always thought that she was just being courteous. "Sasha... you don't know how to cook?" Aziz leaned against the counter top genuine surprise on his face. "That's right." Sasha giggled nervously as she avoided his gaze by putting away the dry dishes. "Go on, tease me all you want." "You've never tried to learn?" "Oh, I've tried. I can cook at least twenty-five different recipes of ramen out the packet but everything else just comes out atrocious." Sasha snorted. Nervously, she bit the corner of her lip and looked at him sheepishly. "Why? Is that a deal breaker?" "No, it's not!" Aziz found her nervousness cute. He snapped the towel against her ass as she turned to put away another dish. Sasha yelped and jumped nearly dropping the dish. "Damn it, Aziz! What was that for?" Sasha rounded on him, putting the dish down and lunging for the towel. He caught her hand easily and pulled her to him. "For looking sad. How about I teach you how to cook?" Aziz looked down at her with a heat in his eyes that made her shiver. It made her nervous and gave her a feeling that built in the pit of her stomach then down to the apex of her thighs. If he looked at her like that a little more and she wouldn't be able to keep her clothing on. "Greater men than you have tried." Sasha shrugged. "It's not just bad tasting food but I'm also a hazard." "Well, you've never had me as a teacher." Aziz leaned in close. His face filled her vision, their noses barely touching. "I bet you don't pay half as much attention to them as you do me. Am I right?" Did he know? Sasha wondered. I haven't exactly made a secret about it. Her light brown eyes searched his hazel then wandered down his face to his lips. Unconsciously, Sasha own lips parted and she lifted herself on her toes, grazing them against his. She waited for him to pull away, but he didn't. Heart pounding in her chest, Sasha embedded her fingers in his hair and pressed her lips to his hungrily. At first, Aziz was shocked at he fervor and didn't respond but then he pulled her totally into his arms. He lifted her off the ground and onto the countertop. As he slowed their kiss, Aziz's hand slid over her ass and gave each globe a squeeze. "Sasha?" Aziz looked down at the spaced out Sasha whose lips were less than an inch from his. "The answer to me teaching you?" Sasha blinked, finally coming back to reality then rocketed out of Aziz's hands, knocking over the nearest pair of glasses. "Oh no!" she knelt to pick up the shards. What the hell had she been thinking? It was one thing to have fantasies in the privacy of your bedroom but right in front of a love interest was a recipe for disaster. "I'm so sorry!" "It's okay." He squatted to help clean up. God damn it! It would be so hot the way he'd unbutton her shirt and groped her chest. Then how sensually slow those tough hands grazed her nipples. She moved across to the kitchen to the trashcan, holding the glass tensely in her grasp. Sasha shivered with her eyes squeezed shut then moaned out loud. Aziz looked up from his sweeping when he heard her moan. There was a trail of blood across the kitchen to where he stood. The Little Taste of Marrakech Ch. 02 "Sasha!" Aziz snatched her around to witness a piece of glass embedded in her palm. Quickly he plucked the glass out of her hand and wrapped the dishtowel around it. "You're never this clumsy!" Sasha looked down at the blood staining the towel. Aziz gave her a worried look. He thought she moaned because of the cut. That couldn't have been further from the truth. "It's okay. I have a higher pain tolerance than most people." She looked down at the blood sprinkled across the floor and glass pieces. "I've made a bigger mess." She tried to smile at him. "See. It's begun already. The kitchen hates me other than when I'm cleaning up!" "No, it doesn't. You just have to pay better attention. I don't care how high your pain tolerance is, the kitchen can be a dangerous place if a person is not careful." Aziz led her to the sink, turned on the tap and began washing the wounded hand. He was very gentle in trying to make sure that all the glass was out of her cut. Sasha suddenly felt very self-conscious. She needed to leave. Just this morning, she was all gung-ho about showing him how strong and capable she could be and there she was being all clumsy. Frankly, this was sad in her eyes. The man was handsome, and her crush had turned to like. But after Friday night, he was completely disarming to her. "Wait here, I'll get the first aid kit." Aziz began to walk away when he turned to see Sasha venturing out the glass doors into the courtyard. He'd sensed her frustration and wanted a chance to ask her about it. "Where are you going?" "Home. I n-need to go home to think over your offer." Sasha lied. "I hate to see you burden yourself with a hazard like me." Aziz looked her over for a moment before speaking. It was an un-Sasha like response, they knew it. There was nothing to think about really, it was either yes or no. Sasha all but glared at him as she dared him to pry any further. "Fine, but first let me dress the cut." He stepped off to get the kit then poked his head back in the kitchen. "Stay." "What am I? A dog?" Sahsa grumbled, as he went for the kit. When he returned moments later, Aziz pulled a chair up in front of her. He took his time in applying the alcohol and trying to be as gentle as possible. Sasha's brows laced together because of the stinging but she didn't even flinch. "At least you don't need stitches." He gently rubbed ointment on the cut then applied gauze. There was this thoughtful look on Sasha's face as she turned her attention to the flowers. She fiddled with them for a moment before speaking. "I guess I am a light weight." She wrinkled her nose. Aziz smiled at the gesture because that was a sign that Sasha hated admitting defeat out loud. "Well, at least I only drink socially. Mostly..." "As long as you're careful. That's all I ask." He wasn't going to tell her, she was making excuses. Sasha already knew that much. Aziz cut the medical tape twice then pressed it down to hold the gauze in place. Taking his own sweet time, Aziz cleaned up the mess and closed the box. When he turned back, Sasha was looking at him with a thoughtful expression on her face. He looked back at her equally as thoughtful. Becoming fast uncomfortable with the scrutiny, Aziz cleared his throat and pointed to the flowers. "These are for you. Please accept my apologies for overstepping any boundaries Friday night. I have no excuse for-." Sasha reached out to him, placing both hands on either side of his head; leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. Her thumb stroked his cheek idly afterward as she looked over his face. It was always a bad habit of his to get overly formal when uncomfortable. "Since the restaurant is closed on Sundays and Mondays, Monday evenings would be best for me. I'm trusting you to take care of me." Sasha grinned. Aziz blinked a few times, color lightly appearing on his cheeks, before nodding. Her hand grazed his cheek as she tucked a strand of his hair away. "Good. See you tomorrow, then." Sasha picked up the flowers and her bag. "Thanks for the flowers!" Aziz watched Sasha go feeling as though a little piece of her was still left with him. It warmed his cheeks and his loins to know that. -_-_-_- The Little Taste of Marrakech The only other woman on this earth that ever made him this nervous was his mother. Thank god at least she was back in Marrakech living it up off his father's money. That woman did some things to undermine a man's authority and bruise the ego, now here was Sasha tempting fate. When Sasha brought him the daggers, he said okay. When she brought him the sabers, Aziz thought about it skeptically and nervously before he decided to give it a try. When she brought him the fire without his consent, Aziz had a nearly had a nervous breakdown. Aziz prayed to Allah, Yahweh, and every other single god being and then some as he forced himself to keep his eyes open and face still. He was scared to death that the whole place was going to go up in flames cooking him, the guests and the kitchen staff too. Could you imagine the headlines? Well, to sooth the soul, the edge of the spear wasn't flaming. First there would be flaming spearheads, then flaming swords and then some poor sod was going to end up with their arm cauterized on their dinner plate along with what they ordered. Imagine Couscous Marrakech made with grain, chicken, and lamb with a side of human fingers already cooked to perfection. Shut up, shut up before you project those ideas into her silly little head. He chastised himself. Aziz gulped his wine trying to stem the flow of his thoughts. He knew he was getting ahead of himself. Really, Sasha could be quite sensible at times. But then there were other times that her stubbornness got the better of her and the infuriating part was that 90% of those times she came out on top. Given those odds, Aziz forced himself to relax and ran his fingers through his hair. He hated to sweat too much, it always left him feeling grungy and that was unbecoming especially in front of company. At least the dance was subdued without any wild antics. In fact Sasha used the spear more like she would a cane or a pole. She moved and contorted herself in ways around the spear that he never thought possible while keeping in time with the music. He had no idea she was so flexible. Sasha did mention something about gymnastics when she was younger but her last competition had to be around 16, which meant that was ten years. Maybe yoga. Sasha danced flipping the spear over and over in her hand and spinning it over her head moving hips and chest. When the song came to an end, Sasha leapt off the stage and returned to the back to change for the final dance. If she was nervous about the new routine, Sasha never let on. Aziz had to hand it to her for confidence. He settled back into his cool demeanor as the talk resumed at the table between the three businessmen. "Hmm, where can I get more girls like that?" Ibrahim raised his eyebrows suggestively. His line of work as a club owner allowed him to scout out many beautiful girls and lure them to his club. Most of the women and some men at his club did a certain amount of double duty, which mainly entailed sexual favors. Ibrahim was quite a friendly and generous employer once he was getting a cut of the extra the girls made. In a way it seemed fair in his eyes considering he provided the girls with protection, a clean place to work, and decent wages. "Nowhere here." Aziz bristled knowing full well what his old friend was suggesting. It said something for his character that he liked Ibrahim well enough as a businessman but his line of work was directly in conflict with Aziz's. Ibrahim gave his friend a questioning look but made a gesture to say he got the message. "Come now, brother. Even Aziz knows good talent can go to waste in your establishment." Fahir laughed in high spirits. "Aziz, you've got an eye for good entertainment." Fahir was a short, squat and graying man in his early 50s. On average, he was a very serious man who was sharp except for when he had one too many drinks. That's when Fahir almost became an open book. Although tipsy, age had taught Fahir what his limits were and how much he was willing to speak about. He worked in immigration for some time before retiring to open up stores that exclusively sold imported Arabic and Turkish goods. While it was Fahir's first time seeing Sasha dance, it was not Ibrahim's. Unfortunately his old friend was annoyingly accurate when pushing Aziz's buttons. Ibrahim was only being a tease since he was quite familiar with the palm of Sasha's hand. However, tonight was not just a night for show. Aziz needed Fahir's help with immigration. One of his new workers was being held and he needed her out before she was deported back to whence she came. The second unfortunate circumstance came in the form of an expiring visa. It was always best to deal with the most pressing problem at a time. "Shokran jazeelan, sadiqi." Aziz began and continued in Arabic. "But it wasn't just the talent of my part timer that incited your invitation." "That doesn't surprise me." Fahir responded suddenly serious. "What can I help you with?" "I have a girl of mine being held in immigration. She's come out of a very bad situation and I will need her to officially enter." "I'll see what I can do." "She can't go back there, Fahir." Aziz pleaded without actually sounding like it. "This was her family's parting gift." "All of your girls can't go back to where they came from, Aziz." Fahir eyed him as he chewed methodically on prawn he'd stuffed into his mouth. "Your line of work comes with many heartaches and unhappy endings." "Only if I let them." Aziz conceded, pouring himself another glass of wine. "Does she have a visa?" Ibrahim asked just to join in. "Mm." Aziz nodded, "Which is why I don't understand the level of hesitancy." "It must be something small." Ibrahim continued sipping his drink. He had no qualms about consuming alcohol and made it a habit to do so on the most expensive of drink. "I wouldn't worry, brother." "Ibrahim is right but I will look into it for you." Fahir looked up at Aziz then his attention turned to something beyond Aziz. Apparently Sasha returned sooner than expected and was in a coral sari with the blouse replaced by a bustier bra. As she danced suggestively, Sasha allowed guests to slowly unravel the long cloth. "I have a second request if it is not too much to ask." Aziz asked as he was beginning to get distracted. Sasha was doing a strip number. Those always excited him because she never did it the same way twice even if the end result was the same. "Mhmm..." Apparently Fahir was excited too. It took him a few minutes to answer with only that. Before Aziz could continue, Sasha was upon them. The last length of cloth, Sasha thrust into Aziz's lap where he had to choice but to uncoil her. As it fell away, Aziz inhaled deeply, and quickly, at the sight of her ass clad in underwear and a cloth sash made to fit like a garter belt around her waist. On the sash were gold coins and tiny chains that clinked as moved. Aziz didn't even know he was staring until the cold broad side of the dagger was under his chin forcing him to lift his eyes to Sasha's face. There was this satisfactory smirk plastered there and a mischievous twinkle in those eyes. As quickly as she came, Sasha danced away again, leaving Aziz with the sari cloth on his lap to cover his boner. "You're next request?" Ibrahim asked, grinning from ear to ear. "Maa? What?" Aziz blinked turning to him. Then turning his attention back to Fahir. "Right. One of my waitress's her visa will be expiring in two weeks, do you think there are any string you can pull to get it renewed?" Fahir tore his lustful gaze from Sasha to Aziz. "Sure. Now let's talk payment." "I can pay anything within a reasonable price range." "Even her?" Fahir tilted his head in Sasha's direction. Aziz's gaze turned cold and his voice hardened. "Sasha is not that kind of woman and I will not ask that of her." "You're asking for death!" Ibrahim joked, "And I don't mean by Aziz's hand." "Then a simple dinner." Fahir stated simply. "Just dinner and a thousand dollars." Aziz glared at Fahir. Ibrahim looked between the two men before attempting to break the tension. Knowing how much it meant to Aziz to help out the women working for him, he leaned into Aziz. "Just ask for the dinner. It can't hurt." Ibrahim whispered. "If she says yes, you won't have to pay the two thousand he normally asks and if she says no you pay the two thousand. Either way you get what you want." Aziz held Fahir's gaze in silence for a minute then spoke. "I will ask but I won't make any promises. Whatever decision she makes I will respect it." Fahir smiled triumphantly. "Deal. Hada shay'un Jameel." "Well, Tosbeho 'ala khair." Aziz gave Fair a cutting glance. "I will call with the answer." Aziz waited until the two men left the restaurant before heading to meet Sasha. By this time Sasha was already back in the break room getting redressed. Aziz slid out of the booth, cloth in hand, and walked to the back of the building where he knew she would be getting dressed. Aziz watched through the crack in the door as Sasha bent over, giving him a fantastic view of her ass before she shimmied into her skinny jeans, zipping up and buttoning them. She was still in her bra when she plopped down on the bench and pulled her socks on. It was a really nice view of her chest as it bobbed and dangled as Sasha stuffed each foot in her boot and bent to zip them up. "Sasha?" Aziz knocked on the door as if he had not been watching her the last few minutes. "Yeah?" Sasha looked up, smiled, and stood to face him. "Aziz, if you've come to chastise me about not running the spear by you, I'm just going to say it turned out fabulous anyway and no one else would have been able to make it work other than me." "And what if it hadn't?" there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Then I was throwing Irena under the bus for talking me into it." She grinned as she dug through her locker. Finding her shirt, she pulled on the gold sequined top. "So since it turned out so wonderfully, I think I deserve an advance on my fee a little." "Are you asking for a raise?" Aziz frowned. Acquiring these new papers was turning out to be quite the expensive task. "No, I don't think that was quite asking." Sasha pulled out her dark blue velvet blazer, shut the locker and leaned against it, looking at him. Aziz looked at the female before him. Somehow, he got the feeling that she was testing the waters. He looked down at the bundled sari cloth in his hands, then handed her one end as he took the other. "Maybe." Aziz stated simply as they walked up to each other, touching the two ends of cloth, folding it in half. "Hmm. Maybe isn't a no." Sasha smirked stepping back as they shook the folded fabric out that brought it in again to fold the half in half. "What do I need to do to make that a yes?" "Dinner." Aziz began as he watched for her reaction and they folded again. "I think that can be done for you." Sasha's smile turned seductive as her brown eyes locked with his hazel. Or at least that's what Aziz thought but then he was never quite sure how she was going to react to things. He'd seen that smile many times before never actually paid attention to it. "Not with me but with Fahir." Aziz paused, surprised, as they came together. "You would actually want to go out on a dinner date with me?" "Who the hell is Fahir?" Sasha snapped and dropped her end a bit disconcerted from the change. "Don't tell me the elderly man sitting across from you in that booth." "Yes, him. He loved your dancing and wanted to repay your entertainment with dinner." Aziz continued to fold the cloth by himself now. It was more of a distraction really, Sasha temper was going to boil any second now as he'd hoped. "Bullshit! You know exactly what kind of desert he is expecting after dinner!" Sasha reopened the locker and gathered things for her purse. There was a feeling of triumph seeing her annoyance to his request. At least she wasn't going down without a fight. "No, I promise you it is only dinner. Fahir is a man of his word." "And why in the seven levels of hell would I do that?" Sasha rounded on him, "Because it sounds like you're trying to convince me even though I have declined." Aziz contemplated telling her the truth. Sasha didn't know about the service he provided to the women working in his restaurant. It wasn't that he didn't want her to know, but it wasn't something he made a habit of speaking about. Legally it was just as wrong as Ibrahim's work. Perhaps, she would accept the half-truth. "He has connections in immigration and one of my workers, Leda, her visa is expiring soon. She doesn't have any family to go back too." Sasha gave him a withering look before snatching the folded cloth away from him. "Curse you for playing on a woman's sensibilities." Aziz knew it wasn't fair to back her into a corner like this so he said nothing. He studied her facial expression as she chewed the corner of her lip in thought. Sasha placed the sari back in her duffle bag in the locker then turned back to arranging her purse. "Fine but understand I'm doing this for Leda," Sasha zipped her purse closed. "Not to save you money. I won't even ask how Mr. Fahir is going to accomplish this visa thing." Yep, sensible Sasha. Sometimes Aziz thought she was too smart for her own good. Aziz picked a ball of lint out of Sasha's hair when she faced him. "Fair enough." he gave her a once over. "Going somewhere?" "Yeah work is done and it is time to play." She stated coolly. "In that case..." Aziz pulled out her scarf from the locker and draped it over her neck loosely. "The spring night is still a bit brisk. Take care and thank you for tonight." "Mmmhmm... " Sasha walked past him, "Just remember to tell your pal that it is only dinner. Emphasis on dinner." "Sasha?" Aziz stepped out into the hallway after her, taking an umbrella out of the bin by the door. Sasha paused and looked back at him so he continued. "I bet your hair will look, as you say, a hot mess if it gets wet." Sasha snorted at Aziz's attempt making peace. She returned, took the umbrella from him. "You owe me dinner." "I owe you dinner." Aziz smirked as he nodded, "I'll even come make it for you. My treat." "Now you're just being cheap." There was a glint in Sasha's eyes the one she always got when antagonizing Aziz was in session. "What? That's ridiculous!" Aziz frowned, "I thought women loved it when a man cooked for them. Only you ever call me cheap!" "Nuh-uh. Not you. You like a woman that can cook and clean and take care of the kids." Sasha took careful, deliberate steps towards Aziz where her chest brushed against his. She looked up into his eyes. "You're a businessman at heart so you want as much revenue to stay in your pockets." "That doesn't make me cheap." Aziz rolled his eyes. He took a tentative step back, Sasha knew perfectly well about his space issues. Everyone and everything must keep their own scent, dirt, and whatever else to themselves. Arms length away is what he preferred. "That just means she's a keeper!" "But you'd rather cook one meal a month to show your appreciation rather than pamper her a little." Her breath smelled faint of citrus. Sasha pouted a little, pursing her lips. Aziz's eyes glued to those lips. The dark raspberry color of her lipstick helped to give the illusion of extra plumpness. "Such a slave driver you are." "I mean not even a little tip for her to do a little shopping?" She wriggled her fingers in front of him, palm up, to indicate money. "Your kind of girl should be looking pristine, always." "Sasha, you have a full time day job. Maybe a little less Christian Leboutin, Prada and Manolo Blahnik with a little more saving and you wouldn't be trying to squeeze another two hundred out of me." He chastised only half serious. Of course he knew her day job was with a company that entertained at parties and events using the kills of acrobats and dancers. They also hosted classes. "For your information, these are Enzo Angiolini shoes bought on a sale rack with an extra twenty percent off, placed on my beautiful feet and paired with an outfit made to look expensive. " Sasha made a face, again pursing her lips. Then draped her arm around his waist, pressing herself against him. There was nowhere for him to go, considering his back was now against the break room door. "But I really do like where you are going with that; seeing as I was talking about a girl for you and not myself. She should save some money to buy all those things with a hard ass like you to date." "I don't want a girl..." Aziz began, still looking at her lips as they curved into that smirk he so hated. "I want a woman." He'd had enough of her teasing and gave it back to her in full force. Aziz pressed his lips to hers. His tongue snaked its way through her lips, which were parted in surprise. When he began to explore the inside of her mouth, Sasha tried to step away but Aziz wouldn't let her do that. Quickly and forcefully, he crushed her body to his and pulled her through the door where he pressed her against the wall. When their lips parted, Sasha gasped for air. "Aziz..." she managed to whisper before he placed his fingers on her lips. She watched him with uncertain eyes as he brushed the hair out of her face and caressed her cheek. When Sasha opened her mouth again, Aziz kissed her. This time it was slow, sensual, and Sasha became a willing participant. She moaned into the kiss when Aziz's hands slid down and grasped her ass, hoisted her up. He groped and squeezed and Sasha only melted into him, legs locked around his waist. Aziz was already semi hard after watching her strip tonight, but now he was harder than he'd been all night. Their lips parted again and there was only the sound of their ragged breathing as Aziz rubbed his hard member against her crotch, his lustful gaze burning into hers. For once she was the underdog in their usual tit for tat. Speaking of tits, Aziz continued to pin Sasha to the wall with his body as his hand snaked under her shirt and grasped her breast. Sasha's breath hitched and she whimpered. If Aziz slipped his hand between her legs, he would feel how wet she was. In fact, Sasha's underwear was plastered to her bits and Aziz's insistent rubbing was helping the situation far too much. He tongued and sucked against Sasha's neck with an undeniable hunger that there was measure of fear in Sasha's whimpering. Maybe she pushed him too far? She was only teasing... maybe? Perhaps she should stop him. Ground him. "Aziz..." Sasha panted suppressing a moan, "...I... you can't do this... n-not to me." Aziz looked her over like a hungry tiger, "Oh but I can, Sasha. You started it." "But I-I was just having a little f-fun with you like always..." she whispered in a breath. "Exactly." She gasped as Aziz pressed hard against where her sensitive bud is located. His lips found her earlobe and nibbled on it. A loud groan escaped her lips. "Like always but tonight wasn't the night." Before she could answer him the door opened as a waitress backed in. As soon as she looked up and saw the look on her boss's face, she hurried right back out the way she came. Sasha took that opportunity to lower her legs but Aziz grasped them and kept them right in place. "I didn't tell you could lower them, did I?" He grasped a fistful of her curly hair in warning but didn't pull. Sasha shook her head looking at him with eyes filled with questions. He leaned in kissing her gently, lips trailing down her jaw, and his tongue lapped at the hollow of her neck. Suddenly Aziz chocked then burst out laughing then dropped Sasha's legs. For a moment Sasha looked confused as she studied his face. The Little Taste of Marrakech "I'm really disappointed in you right now, Sasha." Aziz chuckled deeply, his face still buried in her shoulder. Sasha was stock-still. "I was expecting you to say a resounding no and sticking too it. Matter of fact I was expecting a right hook." He finally stood up when she didn't respond. Looking down at her expression, Aziz wasn't laughing so much anymore. "You should totally see the look on your face right now." Sasha's eyebrows were knitted together and her eyes were watery. She stood there not answering, not responding as she focused on her breathing. "Sasha?" Aziz reached out and touched her cheek. In actuality he meant to touch her arm but he didn't like the look on her face. Sasha forced her features to become stoic and she slapped Aziz's hand away. Without saying a word, Sasha turned away from him and pushed her way out the door into the hall. "Sasha, I was only-!" Her hand being held in front of his face cut him off. She bent, picked up her purse, and then turned on her heel. "Sasha!" Aziz called after her one final time. -_-_-_- Sasha stepped one foot it front of the other as she stepped out onto the pavement. There weren't many people on the street seeing as it was still raining. That didn't matter because Sasha wasn't paying attention. She was more interested in walking back to the flat that her and Irena shared. Forget the night out on the town. That idea went out her head the first moment Aziz's lips connected with hers. She tripped over nothing in particular and steadied herself on a sapling. For fucks sake! Sasha's shoulders trembled and she forced her eyes shut, shaking her head. This was ridiculous. Sasha didn't get sad. Sad was an unfamiliar feeling for her. There was always anger before sadness. Anger she could own, twist and turn it into drive but not now. Now, there was just disappointment. More than a year she's watched him from the shadows. Brought friends and co-workers to his restaurant, sometimes just to get a glimpse of him. Sasha always imagined what their first kiss would be like and it was better than she had hoped. Now it was a joke. Sasha began walking again. Unconsciously, she decided to take the long way home when she'd forgotten an umbrella. Lord, thank goodness it was night because in all honesty, tangled curly hair, smeared lipstick and disheveled clothing was not a cute look. Actually, fuck how she looked at this moment. Sasha needed to clear her head because the disappointment and the sadness were sinking in. Somehow someway she had to turn that around to something she could use.