The Mediator: Egyptian Style

Jesse answered the door, not even bothering to button up his pants on the way. I saw the look on the delivery guy's face. It was priceless.

Jesse paid the guy, tipped him, and brought back our food. We had a kitchen in our suite, so he put it in there. "Querida," he called from there, "are you still hungry?"

Did he even have to ask?

I mean, seriously. I was horny as hell and the freakin' delivery man came too soon, so I didn't get any.

Of course I wasn't hungry. Well, for food, I mean.

I got out of the bed and sauntered (as sexily as possible) over to the kitchen area. I put my arms around his waist from behind and kissed his neck. "Yes, I'm still hungry," I said, in answer to his previous question. When he turned around with disappointment on his face, I grinned. "But not for food."

He took that information pretty well.

He bent down and kissed me . . . well, hungrily. I kissed back, of course. Then he lifted me up, sat me on the counter, and stood between my legs. He kissed me so passionately and - and just . . .lovingly that I couldn't take it any more. I needed him. And, by God, I would get him.

So I edged myself closer to him, pulling his bottom half closer to mine. And - uh . . . I could feel that he was quite ready for me.

I hopped off the counter and walked away toward the bedroom. I could tell Jesse hesitated at first, but then when I turned around and grinned mischievously at him, he seemed to give in. Not that I thought he wouldn't.

When I reached the bed, I lay down in it and tried to do a sexy pose. But I don't really do sexy too well. I just . . . haven't had much experience with men. Although, by the look on Jesse's face - and the big bulge in his pants - I could tell I had done well.

I patted the spot beside me for him to come and join me. He did so, very eagerly might I add, and we started undressing each other.

And, well, you can guess what happens next.

- § -

My head was on Jesse's (naked) chest. We were both breathing pretty raggedly. I mean, I guess that's what amazing sex does to you.

We were both just laying there - naked - with the sheet draped over us.

And who should show up right then?

Why it would be none other than Mr. Harrison Matthews, officially the most annoying ghost I have ever encountered - well, other than Heather Chambers.

After he materialized, I heard him give a frustrated sigh.

"Can I help you?" I asked, trying not to let the anger seep into my voice.

He looked at me. "Yes, actually. And why is it that I can never catch you two with clothes on?"

Sarcastically, I said, "Uh - maybe it's because we're on our honeymoon? You know, that thing people go on after they get married to be alone?"

He dismissed that comment with a wave of his hand. I was about to tell him where he could shove his hand, but Jesse put his hand on my arm and whispered, "Querida." Well, that was enough for me to melt into a puddle of goo right then and there.

"What can we help you with, Mr. Matthews?" Jesse asked politely.

"Well, first," he said, looking me up and down, which caused me to shudder, "you two can get dressed. Second, I have some information on my . . . murder." Then he dematerialized, leaving me aggravated. I mean, we were on our honeymoon. Can't we have some privacy?

I looked at Jesse. He looked a little mad, but intrigued at the information - that Harry had news on his murder. I was just plain angry. "Jesse," I whined, "can't we just ignore him? Please? I mean, we finally get away from civilization to be alone and we can't even do that. Be alone, I mean. God, I officially hate ghosts. Can't they go bother some other Mediator and leave us alone—?"

"Susannah, just get dressed," Jesse cut in. He looked a little peeved - at me. What? What did I do? Just because I wanted to be alone on my honeymoon, I get Jesse mad at me? What is wrong with this world?

"Fine," I grumbled. Then I grabbed the sheet, yanking it off the bed, and put it around me. I grabbed some pajamas from the dresser and went into the bathroom. I didn't want to give Jesse the satisfaction of seeing me naked again. He'll just have to wait until I'm not highly pissed off anymore - which might not be for a while.

After I came out of the bathroom, I flopped down on the bed, ignoring Jesse entirely. Jesse was over next to Harry talking to him about his murder, I presume. I honestly could care less, now. That Harrison guy has caused enough trouble as it is.

I just stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the ghost to leave. After he did, well, just expect an atomic explosion.

"Susannah," Jesse said, stirring me from my musings. But, of course, I just ignored him. I wanted to get him angry first. He's so cute when he's angry—

GOD, Suze, you're supposed to be MAD at him, remember?

"Susannah, please," he said, trying to take my hand. I pulled my hand out of his grasp and just kept staring at the ceiling.

"Querida," Jesse said, using his silky smooth voice and letting his adorable accent seep in. He just HAD to use that word. He knows what that does to me.

Just . . . whatever you do, Suze, DO NOT RELENT!

That was when Jesse hoisted himself over me so I could stare at the ceiling no longer. All I saw was his face. Which, actually, is better than looking at the ceiling.

SUZE, my GOD, you're not supposed to give in!

"Querida, I'm sorry," he said softly. "Once we solve his murder we'll be alone." I still was ignoring him. "Susannah, what is wrong?"

That's when I snapped. I mean, the NERVE to go and ASK WHAT'S WRONG WHEN HE KNOWS PERFECTLY WELL WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG!

Calm down, Suze. Deep breaths. In . . . out . . . in . . . out . . .

"What's wrong?" I asked, trying not to let the anger seep into my voice, but to no avail. "You wanna know what's wrong? Well, let's see, Jesse. First of all, we're on our honeymoon and shouldn't have to deal with these DAMN GHOSTS! Second of all, you always seem more interested in these ghosts when they are murdered or something than you seem interested in ME, your WIFE. Third, you're crushing me." After the last part, he moved so he was sitting next to me.

He wasn't really. Crushing me, I mean. I was just saying that because I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I'm sorry, querida," he said. "I really am. As I said before, once we mediate him, we'll have the rest of the honeymoon to ourselves, even if another ghost visits. I promise I'll ignore them. Just don't be mad at me, querida. I can't live with you being angry with me."

Then he was about to kiss me, but I rolled over, turned the light out, and said, "Goodnight, Jesse."

Disclaimer: Meg Cabot owns all of the characters you recognize. For everything else, there's Mastercard.