A/N; 1st of all, I have failed to say this yet. Obviously, I don't own Twilight. It all belongs to Stephanie Meyer.
2nd, I am sorry it's been a couple of days, but here's your next chapter. I want my readers to know that a lot of this story is based in reality (some people and situations, not the whole plot); many of my non-twi characters are based on people I've known.
Oh, and I've only gotten 3 reviews. Ante up, folks!
Sameh Mohammad Abuti (Sami)
The cabin was dark. Most of the passengers were sleeping while they had the opportunity; it was one way to waste a 15 hour flight. Since it was my job to remain awake and attentive, I decided to spend the flight reading. Having just finished The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, I opened the photocopied packet of materials that Dr. Randall had given me during our fifth counseling session.
I hadn't even skimmed any of it before today, but I knew I had to do the right thing, for Jacob's sake.
"There are no official diagnostic criteria for sexual addiction. Patrick Carnes, a proponent of the idea of sexual addiction, proposed using:
Recurrent failure (pattern) to resist impulses to engage in extreme acts of lewd sex.
Frequently engaging in those behaviors to a greater extent or over a longer period of time than intended.
Persistent desire or unsuccessful efforts to stop, reduce, or control those behaviors.
Inordinate amount of time spent in obtaining sex, being sexual, or recovering from sexual experience.
Preoccupation with the behavior or preparatory activities.
Frequently engaging in violent sexual behavior when expected to fulfill occupational, academic, domestic, or social obligations.
Continuation of the behavior despite knowledge of having a persistent or recurrent social, academic, financial, psychological, or physical problem that is caused or exacerbated by the behavior.
Need to increase the intensity, frequency, number, or risk of behaviors to achieve the desired effect, or diminished effect with continued behaviors at the same level of intensity, frequency, number, or risk.
Giving up or limiting social, occupational, or recreational activities because of the behavior.
Resorting to distress, anxiety, restlessness, or violence if unable to engage in the behavior at times relating to SRD (Sexual Rage Disorder)."
Two things occurred to me just then. One was that the Doctor and I had never discussed how I would handle my little problem. We had merely accepted that there was something amiss, and labeled it. Two was that one of my very favorite people lived in Cairo, where we would be landing in two hours and twenty minutes.
It seemed obvious to me that abstinence was the right course of action now. If sexual compulsivity was like drug addiction… and if drug addicts had to go cold turkey in order to get better, then so would I.
But what about heroin addicts who require methadone treatments? They wean themselves off of their addiction by using a replacement therapy. Maybe I could simply limit my activity until the Doctor had advised me of some official course of action. It seemed like the most livable solution, if not the most effective. Part of me knew this was ridiculous, that I was rationalizing my behavior in an effort to continue doing something I knew wasn't good for me.
Whatev.
After a mundane landing at the massive Cairo international airport, I processed my paperwork and stashed my sidearm at the Egyptian Public Security Checkpoint. I was starving. Thankfully, Cairo International has a Kentucky Fried Chicken.
After eating a three piece with mashed potatoes and a side salad, I headed toward the duty free. The shop was full of tiny, child sized tee shirts; makeup, liquor and other pricey gifts.
One of the difficulties of traveling frequently was the matter of food consumption. You always got hungry when there was nothing around, and you had no idea where the restaurants and markets were located. Worse yet, as a traveler, you were always limited to "safe" foods; well cooked meats, rice, and produce that had not been washed in water. Ice was a no-no. This meant no iced coffees, fountain sodas, salad, apples, or food from street vendors.
I had never enjoyed going on the requisite "food hunt" when I inevitably got hungry; furthermore, I hated ethnic food, which complicated things quite a lot. As such, I now scanned the duty free for something I could pack away and eat later. I selected a large bar of Milka, a package of shortbread cookies and a liter of Southern Comfort.
No matter where I was, two things would always be available, safe and delicious… candy and alcohol.
After making my purchases, I sat on one of the benches in the central courtyard of terminal three and reorganized my carry-on. I fleetingly considered calling Le Meridian to make a overnight reservation, but quickly set the idea aside. Instead, I picked up my blackberry, and began dialing a number I knew by heart.
20-2-3377 7070
"sameh's phone."
"Sami, its Bella."
A deep voice chuckled warmly.
"Ahh, Bella. This is Sameh's good friend Ahmad. I'm afraid your Sami is in the shower, but I am certain that he would wish to speak with you. Will you hold on for just a moment, pretty lady?"
"Of course" I said in a small voice.
I held for maybe two or three minutes, tapping my foot anxiously against the stone tile of the terminal floor all the while. Finally, there was a rustling noise on the line as someone picked up on the other end.
"Hiii sexy" came the silken voice. It was literally one of my favorite sounds in the whole world.
"Sami."
"So sorry to have kept you waiting, Bella. I am so glad that Ahmad was here to pick up my phone for me. I would have been so sorry if you were not able to reach me. Would you have called again?"
He spoke elegantly, and always in a formal manner. I supposed that this was caused by the language barrier; Sami's English was very good, but he had been taught a formal version, entirely free of slang. It sounded almost princely. It befitted one of the most renowned financial analysts in Cairo.
"Isabella, please allow me to send my car for you. You will join me tonight in my home, will you not?"
"Of course, Sami," I said, trying to sound seductive and somewhat composed. Truthfully, I wanted to jump off the bench and do a cartwheel.
"I have to tell you," I advised, "I have been traveling for almost a full day. I'm a disaster."
He clucked at me, and said something that sounded like a teasing admonishment in Egyptian.
"My Bella, you have never looked less than perfect, dear."
I felt giddy
"Still, my sweet lady, I would like to make certain you are very comfortable. Please, allow me to extend some hospitality to that end." His voice was filled with pleasure at the idea of providing me with some type of comforting surprise, which would more than likely involve exorbitantly luxurious pampering. My Egyptian friend was very wealthy, and in the Middle East, the wealthy really knew how to do luxury.
"Oh Sami, there really isn't any need for…"
"Now Isabelle..." he sang, "Please allow me, as your dear friend to make you feel welcome here. My colleague Ahmad and I had planned to get out for a drink with one of our business partners just now. If it pleases you, I will just step out for a short time, and leave you here with some little necessities, I think."
I almost let out a giggle.
"That would be fantastic; and certainly, I would not want to interrupt any plans that you had for the evening."
"Oh, no no Ms. Isabella, you certainly must not think that you were troubling me. I would always be so much happier to have your company for the evening, rather than to work. I would stay home in an instant if you wished, but I prefer to leave you some time to rest and feel relaxed." His tone was playful, but sincere. Ever the gentleman.
"I can't wait to see you," I half-whispered.
"Truly, Bella. Now where may I tell my driver to meet with you?"
Twenty minutes later, a black Jaguar with tinted windows pulled up to the 'pick-up' zone outside of my terminal. A middle aged, golden skinned driver exited the car and nearly ran to the rear passenger side to open my door for me.
"Ms. Bella?"
"Yes sir."
He smiled at me warmly.
"I knew it was you. Mr. Abuti only told me to look for the loveliest light-haired woman at this terminal entrance." He winked playfully, and I had to laugh. Middle Eastern men were so sexual.
'Light-haired.' I laughed lightly as I entered the back of the vehicle. It had always been amusing to me how my chocolate colored locks were considered nearly blonde in this area of the world. My coloring made me a prize, a sort of a trophy acquisition for men like Sameh. I would have minded a little if he weren't such a peach.
As I settled into the leather seats in the back of the chauffeured vehicle, I realized that someone had placed a small, wrapped gift on the back driver's-side seat. A tiny envelope was tied to the package with a satin ribbon.
No doubt observing me through the rear-view mirror, the driver encouraged me.
"For you of course, Miss Isabella. You are such an honored and cherished guest of my employer." He grinned, and it made me wonder what he thought her knew.
Lifting the box from the seat, I carefully detached the envelope. It was no larger than a post-it, but was made from translucent white paper. Inside, a white note card read simply, "Beautiful, like my Bella."
Corny.
Awesome.
I carefully untied the red satin ribbon, and laid it on the seat next to the card. The wrapping paper was embossed, and appeared to feature some black and white Egyptian-inspired hieroglyphic design. Having always enjoyed a unique scrap of paper, I had a mind to keep the wrapping.
I looked out the window for a moment, and drew in a breath. If bad food was the downside to near-constant foreign travel, this was the definitive upside. Looking out at the River Nile from the mid-section of the 6th of October Bridge, I could see the lighted reflection of modern Egypt shining in the famous waterway. I considered the history; the romance of that River, and it sent a chill through me.
With my eyes still on the water and the pictures of the shining towers playing across it, I moved my left hand to uncover the box I held between my knees. I felt something smooth, and something hard.
Looking down, I could see that the outer box contained a silk garment and yet another box. I wondered how my dear friend had procured such a gif on such short notice. Did he have a stock of opulent gifts for female guests?
I left the garment in the box, presuming the mass of silk was a robe or nightgown of some kind. No need to whip out intimate gifts in full view of Sami's driver.
Next, I tore into the wrapping that contained the smaller box. As I ripped the pattern away from the hard object within it, my eyes met with a distinctive red and gold jewelry presentation box that could only have come from, no…
Cartier.
Well fuck me sideways.
I couldn't lift the lid yet. Instead, I placed the half-wrapped gift box into my carry-on, and zipped it tightly. No telling how much my little necessity was worth.
When we arrived at Sameh's building, the driver ushered me out of the car and into the main lobby of the massive twenty seven story tower. I had learned a while ago that the first twenty five floors were mainly offices; that only the top two stories were luxury residences. An express elevator would send me flying to the top in under a minute. There, some other member of Sameh's staff would escort me into his apartment, and help me settle in.
Tonight appeared no different, until my new friend and assistant Bahti and I had arrived at the master suite. There, oil burning lanterns filled the room with a low, flickering light. I noticed that the gentle heat of the room was occasionally interrupted by a smooth breeze, and found the doors to the balcony open. The moonlight cast a subtle glow on the marble floors of the master bedroom, which contrasted with the dancing golden firelights.
In the bathroom, a tub had been filled for me. It was fragrant with crimson and white petals. I thought I smelled jasmine. Bahti pointed me toward the bath, and suggested that I use a bottle of fragrant oil when I was finished bathing, "to prevent the skin from rough feel." Before leaving the massive bathroom, my companion left me two large white towels, and a plush white bathrobe.
I slid into the bath gratefully, and my mind turned off. I thought of nothing for a long time.
"Bella."
A sumptuous voice called my name.
I opened my eyes to see that my insanely handsome companion had come home from his evening business engagement.
I smiled at him gleefully, and he seemed pleased at my excitement.
"Darling, I am so sorry to interrupt your bath. I had not wanted to, but I could not stay away any longer."
"I've been waiting for you, Sami…" And when I said it, I purred. I rose out of the water, letting my wet brown hair drip down my pale form.
"Beautiful." His eyes gleamed. He wanted to possess me, to own my body for one night. This man, who had everything. This golden, Egyptian god.
Some emotion shook me, then. Something deep within me came alive.