Annabelle leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the dusky sky. The sun was setting in brilliant crests of shocking red and burnt orange, a heavy layer of cobalt night sky threatening at the edges.

“This is the grand finale,” Imaad said. He sat cross-legged in his chinos, impeccably handsome in this rustic setting. He’d laid out an enormous blanket over the sand, big enough for them to lie on. Their tent sat several dozen yards away, a small fire lit near the edge of the camp site.

“And here I thought that stew you made for dinner was the whole reason we came out here.” She grinned up at the sky, enjoying the drop in temperature. Imaad had warned her it would get cool at night, but their tent was loaded up with blankets and even separate mattresses.

“The stew I reheated,” he clarified. “A very talented chef named Padideh made that stew.”

She laughed, stretching her legs out over the sand. It still burned a little in the waning heat, as if it had been super-packed with warmth through the long desert day. The sky blazed before them, a spectacular display of colors illuminating the scorched, salty earth. The dry salt flats had crusted patterns in them, geometrical designs like puzzle pieces carved from the salt.

“This place is amazing.”

“I thought you might like it.” Imaad scooped sand into his hand and then let it fall through his fingers, gaze fixed on the sky. “I like to come out here when I can. When I’m able to get away.”

“You work a lot for your father.” She meant it as a question, but it came out as a statement.

“Too much. I’m the youngest, so…”

His words left question marks hanging in the air. “So?”

He dragged a fingertip through the sand, drawing something known only to him. “So I have to work the hardest to be recognized.”

As the sun sank below the horizon, tiny dots of stars followed in its wake.

“I’m the only child,” she offered after a long stretch of silence. “But my father has never recognized me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was a love child,” she said, trying to make it sound light. “My parents never married. My father was in my life, but only when it suited him. I’m here because I’m his only blood relative and it’s something he needs for his business, not because he’s any sort of father to me.”

“Surely he recognizes you,” Imaad said softly.

“Not in the way you might hope.”

A few moments passed before Imaad spoke again. “Looks like both our fathers use us as they see fit, then.”

“You’ve got that right.” Annabelle hugged her knees to her chest. It might be the only thing they had in common.

Darkness descended around them, stealthily fast, until night predominated, and the only remnant of the sunset was a distant burning strip at the edge of the Earth. When it faded, Imaad took a deep breath, tilting his head back up at the sky.

“This is dessert,” he said. She tilted her head back to look and gasped. The sky was crammed with sparkling dots, so many stars that Annabelle got dizzy when she stared for too long. She blinked, searching out the horizon, looking for the grounding reference point of the tent.

“Holy shit. I’ve never seen so many stars before.”

“Lie back.” He leaned back onto the sand, resting his hands on his low belly. She did the same, gasping again as she took it all in.

“Fuck,” was all she could say.

In the quiet between them, the immensity of the sky bore down on her, made her feel breathless and exhilarated and excruciatingly small.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” she blurted. The words had burbled up out of nowhere. She turned to look at him, using the dim outline of his body as her grounding rod. “This is a weird situation. I know it’s just as hard for you as for me.”

Imaad pushed up onto an elbow and looked down at her. Her whole body prickled with expectation, the heat of him pouring over her in waves despite the now-chilly air. Once her eyes adjusted, she could see the sincerity on his face.

“It’s not that hard,” he said softly, his fingers tracing invisible patterns in the sand next to her. “Not right now.”

She grinned. “Yeah. Looking at the unfathomable universe isn’t so hard.”

“No, I mean, with you.” His fingertips danced feather-light over her forearm, and her whole body lit up like a firework. He was hitting on her.

Her pussy clenched with excitement. “So, you mean not being a raging bitch makes things easier?”

He laughed, his fingertips dragging up her bicep, up over the curve of her shoulder. She shivered.

“Things got easier when I stopped being an asshole,” he said, his voice coming out gravelly. He lowered his head, the centers of his eyes the same as the inky sky beyond. “May I kiss you?”

All she could do was nod her head. Imaad pressed his mouth to hers, silky heat filling her, making her weak and gelatinous against the sand. The scent of him from so near was an aphrodisiac, as if Eau de Imaad could be bottled and sold worldwide.

She made a little noise as they kissed, his velvety lips brushing over hers like a dream. His fingers slid up the side of her neck, pressing behind her ear, cementing her to her spot. They kissed until she broke for air, chest heaving as she struggled to process what was happening.

“That was nice,” she said, drawing shaky breaths. “But we’re just pretending with this whole marriage thing, remember?”

He didn’t move away from her, just stroked the side of her neck while he gazed deeply at her. “But some moments are just made for kissing.”

A smile spread across her face. “Aren’t you just Mr. Romance?”

* * *

Imaad kissed Annabelle the way he’d been dying to since the moment he laid eyes on her. The penetrating darkness made him bold—he certainly hadn’t planned to make out with her when arranging this trip—but more than that, something about Annabelle begged him to make a move.

He pressed his tongue gently into her mouth, moaning low as she welcomed it, their tongues meeting hesitantly. In the distance, the fire crackled. He squeezed her hip, desperate to explore more of her as need overcame him.

She pushed at his shoulder a little and he pulled back, breathing heavily.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered, but she didn’t sound convinced.

“Why?”

She searched his eyes for a moment. “It just seems wrong somehow. I don’t like mixing business and…pleasure.”

He nodded, unable to move his hand from her hip. He searched her face for some sign that it might be okay to kiss her again, but none came. Squeezing her hip gently, he pulled away, lying back on the sand, desire thrumming through him.

They lay in a tense silence, his heart pounding in his ears. Those kisses wouldn’t leave his lips. He could still smell her, taste her.

He let his eyes drift shut, trying to calm down. When he opened his eyes to take in the sky again, she was above him, eyes wide and desirous.

“I was just kidding,” she whispered, her hand knotting in the fabric of his shirt. “I actually really want you to keep kissing me.”

He grinned, cupping her face in his hands, pulling her down on top of him. She released a little noise, lips crushed against his. Needy kisses emerged, each one juicier than the last. He pulled her on top of him, the stickiness of their skin forming a seal. He wrapped his arms around her waist, the heat of her pulsing through him, his cock hard and seeking against the waistband of his chinos.

“You kiss too good,” she whispered, tilting her head as he dragged his lips down the side of her face. “It’s not fair. I can’t say no.”

“I can do other things even better.”

She groaned, pushing up from him, locking her legs around his hips. By the faint light of the stars, he saw her grinning down at him.

“Then maybe we should make this our actual dessert,” she said, smoothing her hands over his chest. “A little fun under the stars. A one-time event.”

He moaned a little, grabbing her by the hips, pleased by the way she rocked on top of him. “How could I say no to that?”

Her normally clear eyes were a dark abyss of desire, one that drew him in. Before he could even say anything, she tore her shirt off, revealing those heavy breasts encased in a satiny bra. He trailed his hands up the sides of her waist, fingertips drifting over the smooth fabric. She shivered as he cupped each breast. She was so much woman, and every part of her was divine.

Annabelle was the stuff of his fantasies, and if she wanted to let her guard down for a night, he’d be there to catch her.

A moment later her bra slid off, and he bolted upright, lips seeking a taut nipple. She moaned as he suckled at each breast, her flowery soap mingling with the scent of sand and sweat, a heady combination that rocked him with desire. He grunted as he flexed his hips beneath her, starting a slow roll, looking up at her for confirmation that she felt the hardness.

Her voice shook. “God, that feels good.”

He grinned, smoothing his hands over the swell of her ass, grabbing big handfuls. “We should take this off you.” He tugged at the belt loop of her jeans. “Right now.”

She nodded, pushing off him, wriggling out of her pants quickly. He slid his own pants off, tossed his shirt aside, and pulled her between his legs, her back pressed up against his chest.

“I just want to do one thing first,” he whispered, lust clouding him, searing hot trails through his veins. His hands drifted between her legs. He stroked her inner thigh while dragging fingertips over the damp fabric of her panties. She shivered in his arms, goosebumps rising on her skin. He pressed soft kisses along the back of her neck while he dragged his thumb over the stiff peak of her clit.

She tensed, a whimper escaping her. He pinched at her clit through the panties, then slid a finger under the fabric, the slick folds of her pussy welcoming him. He moaned in her ear, pinching and massaging her clit, and then slipped a finger inside her. Heat flooded him. Her pussy was softer and tighter than he could have imagined. He took a soft bite of her shoulder, working his fingers in and out, thumb knocking against the base of her clit.

Annabelle clutched at his forearm, fingernails digging into his skin. He gritted his teeth, rocking slightly beneath her, desperate to feel her wrapped around him, but not before she had her own peak under the stars.

Imaad rubbed at her, breathing heavily into her ear, her hips bucking and tensing as he worked her. She whimpered, head lolling back over his shoulder, and then she stilled against him, mouth caught open.

A little groan emerged, and then her breath hitched. “Ohhh, Imaad!” He didn’t let up, not for a second.

“Look up.” He rolled her clit between his fingers, watching as she came undone in his arms, her eyes popping open to look at the sky as she shuddered with pleasure.

Her chest heaved for a few moments, and he dragged his lips over her bare shoulder, loving the sticky, sweaty seal between them, the dampness on his fingers, the hazy euphoria she wore like a cloak.

“Fuck.”

He laughed, nipping at her earlobe. “How was that orgasm under the stars?”

“Life changing.” She came to her knees, eyes glinting. “And now it’s your turn.”

Imaad welcomed her on top of him as she bent her legs behind her, settling on top of the bulge in his briefs. “I don’t have a condom,” he whispered, dragging his lips over the tops of her breasts.

“I don’t care.” She skimmed her nipples across his face. “I have an IUD.”

He pushed his underwear down, cock springing free. She cooed as she rubbed her palm up and down his length, sending a powerful shudder through him. He cupped her breasts as she settled into place again.

“I want to feel you inside me,” she whispered, yanking aside her panties. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

His mouth parted as she sank down on top of him, her velvety heat wrapping around him like the most precisely fitting glove. He groaned, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation hijacked his brain, rendering him immobile and useless in the presence of such a powerful pussy. She giggled, sinking down on top of him until there was no more space left. Her breath hitched once he was buried to the hilt, and she rocked on top of him, starting a slow rhythm, one that made him grunt with pleasure.

“Jesus.” Her breath came out in short puffs as she rode him, rocking in devilishly slow circles on top of him. “I could stay here all night.”

“Please.” He tilted his head back, and her lips found his, the tangy floral scent scorching through him, as if she’d branded him. She bounced on top of him, her heavy breasts jiggling at his chin, and he groaned, grabbing at her hips, desperate for her to slow down and draw this out but unwilling to make her stop.

“You feel…” The rest of his sentence withered in the air between them, and she rode him harder, bucking like a wild animal on the plains, her silky heat crashing down and then rising up, over and over again, until his head spun and the dam broke and every bit of pent up energy rushed forward at once.

He groaned low and gravelly, gripping at her hips, letting out a guttural noise that traveled through the Salt Desert like a cry from a wandering animal. Annabelle didn’t let up, bucking against him, and he came so long and hard that his head dropped to her chest.

Annabelle breathed heavily against him, running her fingers through his hair. Nobody said anything for a long time.

Once his head cleared enough to speak, Imaad looked up at her, found a warm and secret smile waiting for him.

“I saw stars,” he croaked, arms fastened around her, sweat pooling in the crease of his elbows. “But they were in my eyes.”

Annabelle grinned, kissing his forehead. “I’d say that counts.”