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“Nothing?” Malik asked, his thick eyebrows raising in unison. “So, what, you come home from work and do nothing?”
Birgitta smiled. “I . . . watch TV with my husband. I spend time with my family. I go for runs.”
“Runs?” Malik asked. “You like to run?”
“Mhm,” Birgitta nodding. She was glad they were finally moving onto a safe conversation topic. “I live just a few minutes from here. Lots of hills and great views.”
“That sounds great,” Malik said. “Maybe I should join you one day, see how great these views are.”
Birgitta couldn’t help but gulp, feeling her dry throat rasp. Malik was dominant, clearly intent on inserting himself into her life. Birgitta looked him up and down, admiring his wide chest and broad shoulders as she thought about something else she’d like him to insert.
Stop it, she thought.Stop it, stop it, stop it.
It was too late, though. Her mind was racing, imagining what he would look like shirtless. How hairy was he? What would it feel like to run her fingers through the hairs on his chest? Did he have muscles, poking through his skin? Did he have that sexy V-shape that pointed down to his cock? Would he have a bush of pubic hair, or did he shave?
Birgitta clenched her thighs as she tried not to think about it. The last thing she wanted was to get aroused, right here in the cafe. She wouldn’t be able to reach down and touch herself while talking to him . . . would she?
“So, you told me that life is going well for you?” Birgitta asked, trying to concentrate on their conversation instead of thinking about her sex pulsing between her legs. “You’re doing an internship?”
“I am,” Malik said, nodding slowly. “It’s messy work, but it’s fun.”
Birgitta chuckled. “Mmm, messy work is not for me, but I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
“Oh, come now,” Malik said, almost moaning. “I’m sure a woman like yourself doesn’t mind getting down and dirty every now and then.”
A strange look flickered into his eyes then. A playful, teasing look. His pink tongue lapped at his top lip, wetting it a little. Birgitta watched it, fascinated. She couldn’t help but wonder what his tongue tasted like as it flashed out of his mouth.
The only way Birgitta could stop thinking about it was by shoving her hand between her thighs, letting her thumb rub against her clitoris. She started to calm down as she touched herself, finally able to concentrate on the words coming out of his mouth.
“It’s not great pay now,” Malik said slowly, “but, in the future, I will be able to make good money. I’ll be able to support my family, at least.”
Birgitta smiled, feeling her thighs tremble as she continued to touch herself. “That’s fantastic,” she said. “I’m so glad things are going well.”
“My mother always talks about you,” Malik said, almost shyly. He looked down to the table between them. “She tells me,you must find that nice white woman who helped us.”
Birgitta laughed. “Now you’ve found her,” she said softly.
“And now she’s not going to let me rest until I bring you home for dinner,” Malik said, a hint of resentment in his voice.
Birgitta stopped touching herself and frowned, picking up on his reservations. “What?”
Malik shook his head. “She’s so friendly,” he said. “She doesn’t fit in here. I think she’s lonely.”
It only took a second for Birgitta to sober up from her arousal. She was seeing Malik in a new light. He was a human being, with feelings and memories and family. He wasn’t just some object to fantasize over. He was real and deserved her undivided attention. She brought her hand up from between her legs and placed it on top of his, squeezing a little.
“She’ll be okay,” Birgitta promised. “Women are strong. There are plenty of communities out there that would be lucky to have her. You just need to find them.”
Malik nodded, agreeing in silence. “True,” he said. “She hates going to that church—it goes against everything she’s ever known, setting foot in a Christian place—but she’s found some people there.”
“It’s natural to worry,” Birgitta told him. “I see it a lot. But you have to know that this community won’t let you suffer. They’re good people here. All you have to do is reach out whenever you need something.”
Malik’s hand twisted under hers and his fingers gripped her wrist. Within a second, her arm had been pulled across the table and her hand was placed between both of Malik’s. He stared at the slice of pale flesh between his dark hands and allowed his fingers to stroke her soft skin. Birgitta felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as she watched his fingers learning the shapes of her hands, inspecting every inch of her that he could.
Footsteps sounded to the left, the sound of heels clopping against the tile floor. “I’m sorry,” a cheery voice said.
Birgitta snatched her hand from Malik’s grip. She wasn’t sure why she did it. She only knew that a shock of terror had rolled through her heart. What if the waitress had seen? What if rumors started spreading?
“I didn’t know anyone had come in,” the woman continued, completely clueless to what was happening at the table. She pulled out a pen and small pad, poised and ready to take their order.
