SHEIKH'S SURPRISE BABY: A Sheikh Romance (34 page)

BOOK: SHEIKH'S SURPRISE BABY: A Sheikh Romance
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"I don't want anything," Shawna assured him, still feeling somewhat timid. "You're the one who insists he'll follow me around and take me out. I just happen to be a girl who can't say no."

"You should learn," Clark said with a laugh. "That kind of attitude is going to get you exactly into the kind of trouble I like."

A blush crept through her cheeks as Shawna caught his meaning. She definitely hadn't meant it like
that
, but Clark was bringing out a side of her she'd suppressed out of necessity. Maybe some of that college flirtatiousness was emerging as well.

"I didn't mean it like that," she mumbled. "You know what I mean... I-I was serious about that boyfriend, you know. He's waiting for me back home, and I really don't mean anything..."

"Yeah, yeah," Clark said. "I'm used to it. Now come on. Let's go out and enjoy the night a little bit. The temperature's nice compared to what I've gotten used to."

Together they left the gym, Shawna's gym back weighing against her shoulders. Clark had dug his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, and from them he dug a set of keys. They crossed the parking lot and stopped at the far end. Clark approached the passenger side of a sedan, and Shawna hesitated. Was he going to open the door for her? But instead of fit the key into the lock of the sedan, he kicked a leg up and straddled the motorcycle parked beside it. The key fit into the ignition, and Clark turned the engine and brought it to life.

"Let's ride," he told her. The thick back tire turned slowly as he reversed, retracting so that they were side by side. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now."

What would Ben say if he knew about this? Shawna's eyes swept from Clark to the bike, inspecting it. It seemed sturdy enough. Glossy black casing was meticulously cared for and hand detailed, although speckled with dirt and other signs of wear. The seat was worn in and generous, with enough space to accommodate a passenger. But was it right?

Well, if Ben wasn't interested in doing anything exciting, maybe it was best if Shawna got her fix elsewhere to get it out of her system. Doing this didn't weaken their relationship any. If anything, it would help make it stronger. If she came to resent Ben for never wanting to go out, eventually their relationship would sour — if it hadn't started to already.

"No. No, I'm not. I just don't know how I'm going to ride with a skirt like this."

The skirt came down to her knees and clung tight. Clark looked it over, ran his tongue across his cheek thoughtfully, then shrugged.

"Only one feasible solution I can think of." And without asking permission, his thick fingers found their way against the hem of her skirt and rolled it up until it barely covered her at all. Shawna felt her cheeks grow red as he exposed her creamy thighs and the nude stockings that covered them. Like this it was almost as though she wore short shorts, and she hadn't done that since she'd been a freshman.

"Are you serious?" Shawna muttered to herself. Clark heard, and replied.

"Unless you want me to rip it down the side. Didn't think you'd like that solution too much, though."

"No," Shawna insisted. "You're not ripping my skirt. We're going like this. I'll just deal with it."

Casting a lingering glance at Clark to see if he was peeping, she swung her leg over the bike and settled in against his back. Both of her arms wrapped around his waist to hold herself steady, and he laughed, sensing how unfamiliar she was with riding.

"Hold on tight, blondie. Don't want you to fall off."

"My name's Shawna!" Shawna insisted, but Clark didn't seem to listen. The bike shot backward, and seconds later they'd sped from the parking lot of the gym, Shawna's gym bag rippling against the wind.

The roar of the engine and the drag of the tire so close to her legs was thrilling in a way Shawna had never believed. Her wet hair whipped against the wind, and the sticky leather across Clark's back clung to her chest and shirt. Shawna buried her head between his clothed shoulder blades to protect herself from the harsh cut of the night air, but she could not deny that feeling it against her arms and through the fabric of her slacks was a rush. As frightened as she was at the new experience, there was also wild joy. As Clark sped even faster, weaving his way between cars recklessly, Shawna cried out in delight. Motorists leaned on their horns as they darted in and out, but Shawna found she didn't care. As much danger as she was in, Clark's erratic driving made her feel alive.

"Where are we going?" Shawna shouted out against the shrill shriek of the wind and the traffic around them. Clark had said that he would take her out, but that they'd discuss it later. Neither of them had a chance to discuss anything — wherever he had in mind was his idea alone.

"S'a surprise," he shouted back. Without the ability to properly converse, Shawna had to leave it like that. Tonight Clark was going to take her out somewhere new, and she'd explore the city as she never had before. The stars had just risen, the moon was already bright, and the night was theirs to seize. They turned sharp corners that made the bike dip dangerously to the side, and Shawna's arms tightened around his waist to hold on for dear life. Clark's shrill laugh rang out against the night, and they rode on.

They sped down the inner city streets until they'd distanced themselves from the seediest commercial area to enter the low income, high volume residential area that Ben and Shawna had called home since they'd graduated from college. They could afford better, but every penny pinched meant a house that much sooner and that much cheaper. Had Clark found out her address from the front desk of the gym? Shawna had no other idea why he'd ever take her into her dreary neighborhood.

Now that they'd escape the buzz of main road traffic, Clark slowed. Although they still sped, they did not take the side streets with the same breakneck rapidity they had before. Shawna was both relieved and disappointed; as the danger died down, so did her excitement. Now that Shawna had a taste of it, she was hungry for more.

As Clark directed the bike down the street Shawna's apartment was on, he slowed, and for a moment Shawna thought they really would stop outside the doors. Instead, they turned down the corner before her block and dove deeper into the residential area. Finally they came to a stop outside a derelict apartment building. The upper units were darkened, and Shawna could make out broken window panes and boarded up windows. Some of the siding was crumbling, and amateur graffiti was scrawled across the non front facing walls. The lobby was lit up, and Shawna could see activity inside, although thick graffiti across the wide glass panes made it hard to see what it was.

Was this a drug den? From time to time Shawna heard that buildings in this area got busted for cooking or selling drugs. Taking a wild ride with a stranger was its own kind of rush, but she wasn't willing to get involved with activity that was so illegal it could put her behind bars.

"Is this a drug den?" Shawna whispered, concern obvious in her voice. Clark had killed the engine, and he turned his head to look at her. The laugh that burst from his chest was deep and unrestrained, and as striking as it was, it made Shawna feel a little self-conscious about her remark.

"You're a suburbs girl, aren't you? Take you away from the safety of a two story house and a white picket fence and you're seeing crack whores and rapists on every corner."

"Hey! No, it's—"

"Well, it's not a drug house," Clark said, turned at the waist to look back at her. "Now get off the bike so I can get off, too. It's hard to disembark when there's a girl clutching your waist who just won't let go."

It wasn't until Clark brought her attention to the fact that Shawna realized it. Even though they'd slowed and stopped, she hadn't stopped clutching him. The grip had loosened since they shot down the main avenues, but it had not fallen away as it should have. All at once Shawna yanked her arms back and awkwardly hopped from the bike, stumbling and probably flashing Clark a little more skin than she would have liked from how her skirt was hitched so high. As soon as she got her footing, Shawna yanked her folded skirt back to normal, the fabric riding high at the waist and ending at the knee.

"That's better," Clark said. He hopped down after her, tucking the key to his bike back in his pocket. "How was that for a first ride? Do you have the thirst for it, yet?"

The thirst. The cool thrill of the wind in her hair, and the feel of a strong body against her shielding her from the brunt of it. Trusting another with her life, and giving in to the thrill of the unknown. Shawna knew that it was what Clark had spoken about, but she refused to acknowledge it out loud. At least, not to the degree that she'd truly enjoyed it. After so long of having to lead a boring life bound to work and little else, a change was exciting.

"I'm glad that we didn't hit the pavement when you took some of those turns," she said truthfully. "And I guess it was a fun experience. I don't think I'd ever have another chance to get on a motorcycle, so I... I appreciate it. It was a good learning experience."

Clark snorted and hitched an eyebrow in a move she was now beginning to recognize as typical of him.

"You can deny it if you want, but I see that glint in your eye. You're like a kid on Christmas, peeping between the banisters to see the presents piled beneath the tree. But I'm not going to pull it out of you if you don't want to share it with me. It's no skin off my back." He shrugged and gestured towards the apartment's front door. "Now come on. I want to show you this."

His boots clapped heavily against the pavement of the sidewalk as he made tracks for the front door. Shawna watched, and then followed. As she approached the building, the graffiti across it became clear. Although the stuff tagged on the side was the act of delinquents, the paint across the window had been put there on purpose. The swooping letters and vibrant backgrounds, near invisible against the night, spelled out the name of a storefront that Shawna could only imagine was a restaurant. When Clark pulled open the front door and a bell chimed in time to it, Shawna knew she'd guessed right. The people that milled behind the glass were wait staff, and the lobby was stuffed with booths and tables at which patrons sat. One or two seats remained empty, but the place was otherwise overrun. She'd lived in the apartment literally down the street with Ben for years, and never had she known of a place like this.

"Welcome to The Rat's Nest," the hostess chirped. She had a tiny desk set up near the door. "Do you need menus tonight?"

"Nah," Clark replied. "I know what we're getting already."

Shawna couldn't believe how brash and presumptuous he was being, but even as she took mild offense, something stirred inside of her. It was exciting that Clark was taking control and forcing her to discover things she'd never even knew existed. When was the last time Ben had gone out of his way to do something romantic? Really, when she thought about it, the only time she'd thought about Ben that whole night was to drag him into a comparison against Clark.

It left her feeling guilty, but also incensed. All these years she'd been clear with Ben about what she needed from their relationship, and time and time again he favored networking and penny pinching to indulging her. Shawna was a reasonable girl with a good head on her shoulders, but she knew that he'd dropped the ball and dropped it hard. And now Clark was picking up where he'd left off.

The hostess led them to a comfortable booth with benches upholstered with red vinyl, and Clark saw her Shawna sit before he did.

"Do you take strange women to hole-in-the-wall restaurants on the regular?" Shawna asked once they'd settled. Clark spread his arms across the back of the booth, getting comfortable. There was a casual ease to him that spoke of a simple, but fulfilling life, as though he didn't have a care in the world.

"Only the prettiest ones," Clark replied. Shawna felt the heat spread across her cheeks, and she knew she'd turned red.

The waitress stopped by their table, and Clark gestured her over with a curl of his index finger and whispered something in her ear. The waitress grinned at him, glanced over at Shawna, and grinned wider.

"I'll be back in a second," she said, then disappeared into the back.

The more time that passed, the more Shawna felt that this wasn't just an excursion. Sitting here with Clark felt a lot more like a date than she was comfortable with. If she'd been single, maybe it wouldn't have been so scandalous, but with Ben waiting at home...

"Maybe I should get going," Shawna said. The thought of going and missing out on the excitement that Clark offered stung, but she was a good girl, and doing this to Ben was wrong.

"Stay just a little longer," Clark insisted. "You haven't even seen what I have in the works yet. Clark Upton doesn't disappoint."

Clark Upton. The name was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Shawna shook the feeling and glanced at Clark from across the table.

"I heard that you just got back in town from out of state," she said. It would be no surprise to him that she'd been eavesdropping on his conversation. "So what are you doing visiting the gym and taking girls out instead of getting settled back in? I'd imagine you have to get your new apartment in order. Aren't you worried?"

There was a short silence. Clark's eyes narrowed like he was trying to figure her out, his head cocking just slightly to the side. The more he stared, the more self-conscious Shawna had become. All through her college days she'd been sure of herself and in control, and in her life as an alumni, she'd never hesitated to make a choice or succumbed to the pressures of life. And yet now Clark was disarming her like she was a little girl. How could he press all of her buttons like this?

"I don't worry about anything," he said. "Why should you worry? Whatever happens in life is going to happen, and there isn't much you can do to stop it. If you let go and roll with the punches, you're going to be a lot happier than if you spend your whole life with your head in the sand, scared of what the outside world's about to deal you. Truth is, your might feel like nothing can get to you like that, but your ass is poking out and ready for a spanking. I'd rather see the hits coming than bog my head down with worry. Do you follow?"

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