Dangerous Infatuation

Lust

"Just go to work Sophia! You stupid child" he screams at me.
His favourite insults, "child" "silly little girl" "baby" ...
Well why did you marry me then? Pervert!
I'm immune to his emotional abuse now, his harsh words no longer break me or make me feel inadequate to him. Because I no longer care about him, I don't love him, in fact I despise him! Bastard... and he can't even last long in bed. He's a joke!

I grab my handbag and march out of the door, slamming it shut behind me.
I've had enough of these episodes every morning. He says he's embarassed of me, going to work looking like a million dollars, but collecting cash in hand chicken change.
Apparently, I should stay home and be bored, because he earns enough to look after me.
Apparently, I throw this luxury back in his face, every time I go to work and make an honest living.
My money, that I work for, not his dirty drug money.

I'm 23, I need contact with the outside world, I need human interaction, noise, banter...
I've explained my boredom to him.
I didn't go to college, nor uni, I haven't acquired many friends throughout my life. But to him this boredom is "childish" and I'm making him look bad.
I don't care though, the bakery gives me joy. Happiness is helping to bake Mediterranean breads and desserts. Talking with the hilarious and often unusual customers. Banter between the staff, especially the girls, our little gang.... Sophia, Ayla and Kiki.

This is my life now, for £50 a day, I mean something to people. I'm charming, I'm fun, I'm desired! I feel free, flirting, dancing, singing.
An escape from my dull reality at home with the husband, from my past secrets and pain. The loneliness and emptiness I felt before, working at Sultan Bakery, was diminishing within me.

"Morning my sexy Spanish señorita" shouts Dave, a regular.
"Dave, I've told you 100 times I'm Cuban, not Spanish"
"Same shit"
I roll my eyes and say "ignorance is bliss" and I catch the confused look on his face as he tries to digest my comment inside his teeny tiny brain.
Ufff, and I'm the foreigner....

Ahmet, the bakery owner, the big boss, glides over to me a huge grin on his face. He's always pleased to see me and gives me the warmest Turkish greetings each time. His footsteps light and graceful, contrasting with his stocky stature and wise face.
"How are you kızım (my daughter), early as usual" he says, giving me a kiss on each cheek.
"Early is what you get, when you love your job" I reply, and I mean it! This place and the people in it are my family...

It's unusually quiet, but the morning flies past when the girls finally arrive. I've helped prepare the dough, iced and decorated 3 cakes, made a batch of baklava and taught the staff elements of a traditional Cuban style dance, the mambo!
All of this and it still wasn't two pm, he still hadn't arrived.

"Aylaaaaa, why isn't it two yet" I moan irritated!
"Calm down girl, you've got ten minutes" Ayla says, giggling at me and my impatience.
There was something about Mr 2pm, coming in every day for his coffee fix, two shots espresso coffee! Something about his smoldering gaze, his mysterious demeanor and his oblivion to the power his presence has over me.
Uff, sexy!!
He was definitely a foreigner in London, he barely speaks, which adds to the sexiness and mystery. But each time he did speak I'd detect a hint of an accent.
He has a seductive voice, smooth, soothing, but dominant, very masculine!
Although we don't exchange deep words with one another, I feel like I'm his favourite. He always stares into my hazel eyes as if he's looking into my soul, searching for my story. I know he's intrigued by me.
He could be fixated on the other girls, they're gorgeous.
Kiki, a fellow Latina, Puerto Rican with a mix of Jamaican in her, that gives her a clear Caramel complexion, a head of tight curls and big brown eyes.
Ayla, a gorgeous Turkish girl who bewitches every male with her emerald green eyes and long dark brown hair.
He could choose them, but it's me he wants. I can feel it, he doesn't say much, but the way he looks at me is enough!
I guess it's my personality and sunny disposition that draws people to me. I'm used to being the life and soul of the party. It's my coping mechanism! When I'm charming and entertaining, I'm in my own show, the Sophia show, where depression, anxiety and pain doesn't exist.
But it's not this character he sees, I'm shy around him, on edge, turned on and can barely think straight.

"Well, well well Mr 2pm it's now 2:02 and you're nowhere to be seen. Miss Sophia must be dying" Kiki shouts, walking out of the kitchen and interrupting my thoughts.
"Girls, I'm going to get more out of him today! He has to speak!"
The girls look at me and laugh, they've had one month of my putting up with my obsession with Mr 2pm.

In he walks, tall, confident, authoritative.
I can feel myself getting hot, his presence alone is enough to arouse my female senses and awaken a burning desire inside of me.
He's at the counter now and looks me straight in the eyes "Espresso, two shots please"
"As usual" I seductively say with a cheeky smile on my face before proceeding to make it.
He never replies to my comments he just stares with his smoldering gaze, straight into my eyes. His lips curved into a half smile, or maybe it's a smirk, I don't know! All I know is that it makes me weak in my knees, I feel like melting....
I turn around after making the espresso and see him walking towards the toilet. Even his walk turns me on, so masculine, like he owns the room.
Kiki rushes up to me and squeezes my arm "Sophia, he never talks, I can't cope! Can't he speak, I just want to slap it out of him"
"You want to slap it out of him! I want to fuck it out of him" I whisper aggressively! I'm turned on and frustrated at this point! A burning desire rising up inside of me.
Kiki and Ayla are laughing at my crude comment, holding onto the counter to support themselves whilst the giggling takes over. This is usual for us, laughing until our stomachs hurt, tears streaming down our face. I love it! My girls!!
He exits the bathroom and we try to compose ourselves and keep a straight face. I feel myself getting hot again as his presence nears the counter.
He hands me a five pound note and I activate the till to give him his change.
The usual scene that follows is, hand over the change - he says thank you - I smile - he leaves - I'm left standing there tingling with desire.
Not today Sophia, you're going to get a few words from him!
As I hand him the change I calmly say "What's your name" his eyes widen at my question and I feel like a naughty school girl, who has spoken out of turn.
"Delkash" he says in his low sexy tone.
He turns around proceeding to exit the bakery, but stops abruptly, turns around and says "you?" his eyes piercing into my soul.
Why do I feel scared?
" Sophia" I reply, my voice almost shaking.
He keeps staring into my eyes, but his lips turn into a cheeky smile. "Sophia" he repeats, followed by a short pause the whole time peering into my soul, "sexy" he states, before turning around and leaving.
I'm holding it in until he's out the door, the girls are too, I know it.
Once he's safely outside and walking away from the bakery we burst, squealing and playfully slapping each other on the arm. Wow, I cannot even breathe, my face hurts from smiling.
"Calm down girls" Ahmet shouts from the kitchen.
We try to settle down, but we can't get over the fact he's referred to my name as sexy. We're repeating the scene over and over, reenacting the conversation.

"I want him" I whisper to myself with definiteness.