Chapter 12
3:55 AM
It had been three days since he had heard that loathsome conversation featuring her and that fucker on the phone. Ooooh I miss you NK! I hate Mumbai! Come make me happy NK! I am soooo helpless in Mumbai! OOOH NK! He thought, almost snarling. Tough cookies sweetheart, because you’re stuck here until NK is out of your life. For good. Arnav had convinced himself that getting Singhania out of her life would be a boon to her - and if it was one to himself as well, then, he shrugged, it was just the icing on the cake really. Then there was the small, pesky case of sexual attraction, he thought wincing, from his part towards his innocent, naive ex-ward. Arnav felt like the worst kind of deviant every time his body stood to attention when she came into the room, smelling like the musky sexiness that was her perfume alone. He had asked her once what she had taken to wearing, and Khushi had smilingly told him that it was Thierry Mugler’s Alien. Bull! Arnav had smelled Alien before; sure it was nice but she smelled like sex on legs. How was that possible? Arnav’s body reacted like Pavlov’s dogs, the predictability of his loss of control, almost... almost comic, if he was a masochist bent on dark humor. Arnav wasn’t. He didn’t... couldn’t handle craving her. Wanting her with the intensity that felt like sharp nails were scoring all over his skin, bleeding him. A dull ache buzzing underneath it. A predictably high blood pressure, that dry mouth, that buzz that built slowly, steadily when she was around. Drugs. That girl was worse than his youthful forays of smoking up. Lethal, he thought, when she glided into the room and, ignoring all the room around them, settled against him, sending a gentle smile his way. Arnav scowled into his papers. He did not feel like being gentle. If he could, Khushi’s pretty floaty little skirt would have been up around her hips, while she was against the wall, those glossy legs around his waist while he drove into her. Again. And, again. Until he emptied in her. Rid himself off the spell she put on him. Arnav shook his head, trying to clear it. Horrified at his thoughts. Horrified at finding that his hands were shaking with want.
She shook her head, the thick gleaming, spreading that... that aphrodisiac like smell, dispersing, he thought darkly. An osmic sneak attack. Snaring him with it. God! Arnav implored to the deity he didn’t really believe in, but called, sporadically when he wanted - a holdover from the past and an intensely religious mother. He shook his head, now he had his mother mixed into this. He needed help. Arnav was about to tell her about work, about some emergency that had come up requiring for her to go. For him to go. Anything. But then, she comfortably draped one leg over his own, settling against him more securely and watched a brainless comedy on the TV, laughing gently and he felt his heart drop a beat. He could feel the heat of her naked... NO! Uncovered. Yes, he thought, uncovered. Uncovered skin through his jeans, the heat from it, sinking into his bones. Coaxing him. Cajoling him to come out and play. Arnav shook his head, the perfuming making it swim. Making him sweat. Although, he thought, sardonically, he couldn’t give her scent the whole credit really, the Mumbai summer too had lent its hand. The muggy heat, the perfume combined together had packed a sucker punch. Beckoning him to pull her over to him, pull her summery pink spaghetti top down the sides of her arms - imprisoning her. Rendering her unable to move her hands. As good as handcuffs, he thought, smiling darkly. He would then feast on the sides of that graceful neck. On the upper parts of the glorious globes that were her breasts. He would leave his mark on them. Lave them with his tongue, judge their size, shape and weight with his lips. Arnav drew in a sharp breath, gasping almost. What the fuck was wrong with him? To think, he thought, that he had put up with this; As she laughed, and stretched her legs, the skirt raised by an inch or two; gloriously displaying the expanse of her silky thighs for his hungry eyes. He feasted on them. Tore his eyes away, cursing at himself. At his thoughts. To think, that Arnav had suffered like this for three bloody days, in his attempt to distract her and keep her away from Singhania. He had succeeded on one level; she hadn’t gone out. Preferring to spend time with him after work. Bonding, she thought, he sneered. On another level though, the process had left him to suffer the tortures of Prometheus. Arnav swallowed as the skirt moved up by a centimetre or so and forced himself to avert his eyes. Fuck it, even if it killed him she wouldn’t know that her Arnav... her.. ex-guardian was nothing but a bloody fucked up pervert. She was a.. a child really, for Goddsake! He thought, even as a traitorous voice in his head chimed in, take a good look Raizada, she hadn’t been a child for a long time now.
He got up on the pretext to fetch some cold water to drink. He needed it, sure, as he noted his parched throat; but he needed to be away from her. Way more. Away from that intoxicating smell... he sighed. Relief and misery was an odd combination, he noted fuzzily but his temporary relief; if it was even that was noted the moment he returned to their living room. She had adjusted her skirt but had crossed her legs and slouched back on the couch. Arnav could see the beautiful shapes of her legs, the awkward backward slouch displayed the thrust of her breasts to their full capacity, for his rapt eyes. What was worse, she hadn’t noticed, she was simply too tired to, he knew. Having put in over 4o hours at the office in the past three days alone - at his machinations to keep her away from NK fucking Singhania. He knew that he had done the right thing but the lavender shadows under her eyes, resembling bruises told him that there were probably less brutal ways to do it. Unfortunately, he thought frowning, as her eyes fluttered close, slick lips parted slightly in a soft “o” and her scent rose, once again to wrap around his senses like an oil slicked, silk scarf wounding around him and lust punched him in the gut again. Fuck it, he thought, gritting his teeth. What the fuck was he to do? When she in her sleep arranged herself on the couch, half sitting up, half lying down on it - tenderness tangled with the lust creating an unrecognizable monster emotion that made him want to cradle her in his arms, protecting her from the bloody world and then fuck her brains out. Arnav breathed in, and calling himself all kinds of names, he strode towards her, scooped her up in his arms and took her to her bedroom. Arnav laid her on the bed gently, all the time wishing that he could slide in beside her, and wake her up with his kiss. Slowly unwrap her, until they lay next to each other skin to skin, sharing a breath. He would then stroke her entire body with his palms alone, drawing her image in her mind. Imprinting it. Burning it in. Arnav would then... He swore ripely, the harsh sound causing her to frown, murmur and settle in a more comfortable spot on the bed. She looked so pretty, he thought, struck, giving in to the urge of running a soft hand through her silky baby soft hair. So kissable. Fucking Sleeping Beauty on his mind, he thought bitterly even as stroked her hair some more before finally moving his hand away from her head, reluctantly. At least, he was pretty clear on the fact that he wasn’t the bloody Prince Charming. No, not really. Not ever. Not even if a twisted part of him wanted to be.
He stroked her again, running his fingers through that skein of silk masquerading as her hair, her peach soft skin and when she instinctively turned around to snuggle into his neck, he froze. He could smell that jasmine-amber-musk of Alien on her skin that somehow warped into an aphrodisiac that only he could smell. It was as if it was designed for his DNA profile and for his only. It called out to him, beckoned like the cartoon fingers of perfume in Merry Melody and Loony Toons, calling out to those poor unwary characters, more often than not to their doom. Arnav as a child had laughed at them, now he sorely sympathized. Nothing like being on the same boat to stir the compassion in the hardest of hearts, he thought sardonically, lips twisting in a semblance of a smile. That scent, he thought despairingly, it was stirring over his skin, seeping into it through the miniscule pores. Giving his glands a workout, pumping his heart that much faster. Sweat coated his forehead, eyes glazed and breathing quickened. Arnav was sorely... so sorely tempted to slide a hand under her gauzy little skirt, feel if their attraction was mutual. His fingers shook, itching to see... If the heat being generated in him echoed in her body, making her slick. Slippery. So Slippery, just for him. Bodies, he knew wouldn’t lie, even if that tempting little mouth did. He knew that he could make her want him, it took very little to stroke fire in women and Arnav had at one time, devoted himself to learning all about it. He could lean over, slowly nibbling down the length of her neck. Biting her earlobes or the delicate outer shell of it. Scraping his teeth on the delicate nubs of her nipples even while his fingers stroked, squeezed them. All he had to do... Arnav jumped off the bed as if it had bit him. Appalled. Horrified. What was he about to do? What was he about to do to her? How could he even think like that for a moment? Her! Khushi. It was Khushi! He stared, breathing hard, mouth drying again. The jarring motion had shook her a little, and she murmured in her sleep, irritated, searching for him in her sleep, he thought bitterly. Not aware of what storm had escaped her, barely, she spread eagled on the bed, searching for a cooler spot, the blanket he had covered her with kicked off. Glorious legs tangled up in them, hands spread out, lips parted slightly, calling to him. Not aware of what had just happened, her hands searched for him. Not understanding the danger he had posed to her. Him! He strode out of her room, without a backward glance and closed the door behind him. He couldn’t... He couldn’t be around her. It made him question his integrity. She was.. this thing he was feeling for her was tearing him up to pieces from the inside. Arnav sighed, and rubbed his chest without noticing what he had done. Why did it hurt?
He walked out, he needed fresh air, a walk, anything. He just needed to get away from Khushi. Right Now. He couldn’t jeopardize what they had... how... how would he live if he knew it was him who was responsible for ruining his Khushi’s life? More importantly, how would he live without his Khushi beside him? Because sexual tension and lust, he winced even as those words rang clear in his mind, were all in their place- but when this storm decided to blow over... it would leave the shards of their life together in its wake. And Khushi was the only family he had left. He shook his head. No, nothing like that was going to happen, because he was not going to act on it. A traitorous voice inside his head said, but she’s already having casual sex Arnav, his subconscious smiled knowingly. Why not with you? You know you would make it good for her. What woman doesn’t want that? Arnav shook his head again, trying to clear it. Failing miserably. His subconscious still smiled. He needed to get out. He needed fresh air- he needed to clear his head. He needed to clear and clean it of all those... thoughts and images that he was having of her. And so, Arnav Singh Raizada walked out the apartment, sprinting his way down the stairs- not bothering to use the elevator.
And yet, his pesky subconscious kept reminding him of what he was capable of. Telling him that he would indeed make it good for her, if ever they were in such a situation. Hell, the way he wanted her... He wouldn’t just make it good for her, he would make her scream! Over and over and over again until she begged for it. Until she wanted him to take her as desperately as he wanted to her now. He was a masochistic bastard. God! What was he thinking? He closed his eyes and threw his head back, welcoming the breeze that blew his hair around. Trying not to think of Khushi that way. His mind went back to the time when he had discovered the pleasure of flesh combined with the disarming charm that the world now associated with ASR. He had to thank two women for it; ironically, none of them was Khushi Kumari Gupta - Thank God. Thank God! He rolled his eyes, hands in pocket and looked out at the children’s playground, not really seeing it. Where there was supposed to be the slides, he almost saw her. Them. A trip down the memory lane, with Shomaya and Keertika Malhotra. Daughter and Mother. An episode of his life that made him who he was today, and at the same time, an episode he didn’t look back on much; and when he did, it wasn’t fondly. Today though it was as if a dam had been opened to release the pressure - The memories kept on coming; bludgeoning him. He still let them - anything was better than the thoughts that was having before. He would put up with the bitter trail left by the memories of the past a hundredfold if it meant that it would keep Khushi safe. He wasn’t self sacrificing enough to do it happily but he would do it resolutely because he couldn’t consider the alternative.
He woke up, feeling oddly happy and cheerful, and stretched. He had just opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight streaming in from the large windows, when he realized where he was, and just what he was doing there- or done there. He smiled then, and looked around for her. Shomaya Malhotra. He folded his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling for a while- happy to lie in bed, feeling a bit tired from last night. Shaking his head, he got up, and looked at the time- it wouldn’t do to be late for work, even if he was helping the Boss’ daughter, he thought with a smirk and walked out of the bedroom, in search of his bedmate. He had just made his way into the kitchen, when he saw her, sipping a cup of coffee as she read a newspaper. The butter yellow of the suite walls a perfect foil for her cherry brown tinted hair. The unconscious pout on those succulent lips gave away the fact this one was a brat, but a gorgeous one - Arnav could live with it. The loosely tied belt of her petunia inspired jade and fuchsia japanese silk robe flashed an apple of her breast to him, almost while the shoulder on the other side dipped to reveal a creamy portion of her back to him, making Arnav’s mouth water. She sat on the bar chair at the breakfast bar, legs crossed provocatively revealing her silky legs to him, seemingly lost in the morning crosswords. She was setting a scene, he knew - a flash of intusion. Shomaya didn’t acknowledge him.
He had just made his way to her, and leaned forward to whisper a soft and hoarse ‘Good Morning’ in her ear, smiling, when she got up and turned around abruptly. Raising her eyebrows, she sidestepped him and turned to face him again. her face a cold, indifferent mask. Arnav’s smile began to falter.
“Well? What are you still doing here?” she asked him, haughtily, and something in the pit of his stomach tightened.
“Breakfast?” he asked her- trying and succeeding in keeping the weakness away from his words. She chuckled then, shaking her head as if he was a naive fool to stand in front of her and demand breakfast after their night together. Apparently, that is exactly what she thought.
“No, Arnav. I don’t have Breakfast with boys like you, even if you are employed and highly thought of by my Father.”
Arnav’s fists clenched involuntarily, as the clear insult stung him like a slap on the face. Boy she’d called him. And yet, he still stared at her- itching to retaliate- but holding his tongue, not wanting to piss his Boss’ daughter off and put his job in jeopardy. Moreover, Arnav even as a child only answered when he knew he was a position to do so. Then, it was a viciously cold thing - maybe that was the spoilt child in him.
She raised her eyebrows at him again, folding her arms across her chest now. “Well? Are you waiting for me to kiss you goodbye Arnav?”
He had never felt so humiliated in his life. And so, all his cheer chucked straight out the window, Arnav Singh Raizada made his way out of Ms. Malhotra’s suite feeling humiliated and angry- at himself, more than the Bloody bitch of a woman who had played him like a fucking harp. It was a classic board game move, why hadn’t he seen it? It was him who had foolishly let her have her way with him (he winced even at that thought) and being an inexperienced boy as she’d called him, failed to give her as good a time in bed as she had perhaps expected. And what could he do, really, other than go back home, get dressed for work and start working again? As the Assistant Manager that he was?
He swore under his breath. He really hated his life sometimes.
He had gone home then, gotten dressed and shoved some breakfast that Khushi prepared for him down his throat, before rushing back to work- his thoughts still occupied by the caustic insults Ms. Malhotra had thrown at him- and the fury had frozen inside and at that moment Arnav had felt his heritage the most - He knew he would get his own back - just a matter of time and a question of the right opportunity. He’d had to work himself ragged the next few weeks, fuelled by that humiliation , the anger still burning into his guts, turning into determination and, whenever he heard his Boss mention ‘Shoma’ the spoilt brat, he knew it wasn’t that far off. And then, his luck decided to turn around and hand him a second chance- on a Silver Platter encrusted with Sapphires. He met Keertika Roy Malhotra.
Boss’ ex-wife, and Shomaya Malhotra’s mother- who also happened to be a strikingly beautiful woman, even at her age- of course he didn’t figure this out at the time when he first saw her. Arnav hadn’t at that time ever seen a more beautiful or glamorous woman. She had inky hair that almost shone blue in a certain light, with the darkest black eyes. The svelte gym honed, disciplined 30 years old’s body with the seasoned mind and 50 years’ old business acumen, her intelligence shone through. She was nothing like Shomaya, the wastrel, flitting to clubs and clubs again - showing up at work at the gossip columns, when she wanted to. No, this woman was blade sharp and didn’t waste it. That night, she had worn a form fitting rouge colored stretch silk crepe with Origami inspired bateau neckline with ruffle detailed bodice, with the hem hitting mid-thighs, showing off caramel coloured gams right out of a cheerleaders’ book of perfection. She had worn five inch red pumps and a statement gold necklace that flattered the woman she was and brought the tiny powerhouse upto his chin. Keerthika wasn’t a woman who hid in the shadows, and Arnav had admired it about her. From the looks in her eyes, she too saw something that she had liked. Arnav let a small smile slip through. Maybe payback was near.
And he had been right. In fact, she had seen a lot that she had liked. After the party that he had been appointed to oversee and organize, Keertika had walked by him, smiling at hm and instructing him to make sure her suite in the hotel had everything in order- and Arnav, never to let an opportunity slip him by- had obeyed.
The following two weeks had been- as Arnav often liked to reminisce- Fantastic. Informative. Bizarre. Keertika, it seemed had taken it upon herself, to educate the poor but intelligent Assistant Manager of her Ex-Husband’s Delhi Hotel Royal Pride. In business as well as... other endeavours. And Arnav, being the good student that he was, had picked everything she’d taught him right away- also adding his own unique touch to it after a few days.
And it had been two weeks later, that Keertika had allowed him to take her out for an expensive dinner, a thank you date of sorts, and told him over a glass of Pinot Noir, that he really was ready to go out into the world now.
“You, Arnav, have a lot of potential. Don’t waste it working for my no-good slave driver of a husband all your life. But learn from him before you leave.” She had warned him, “He may be an insufferable old git, but he still has the brains that keep this huge Industry on its toes.” she had said, and smiled at him.
And after that last dinner, she had walked out, winking and smiling at him one last time. Leaving a more confident and considerably more mature Arnav Singh Raizada behind.
He would always recall the eccentric woman fondly because, whatever Arnav was today, she had a hand in it. Making him what he is - who he is. She was the first who had taught him about stock market speculation. The first who had taught him about the sheen of quartz to put over a man to keep him safe. Invulnerable. Arnav was an oddity at first - a man who had known how to behave, how to dress, how to talk but hadn’t toughened enough to protect his soft underbelly yet. Keerthika had taken an interest and had, in her distracted way, taught him how. Taught him where and what. She had shellacked him with that quartz hard sheen; something young men slowly learn from the men in their lives. Arnav smiled. Keerthika, he thought fondly of the gorgeous woman, who still kicked ass, was no less than a man - in fact, she could probably still drag Arnav’s ass back to church if needs be. He smiled, but she stayed out his way now, probably, he smiled, he was too old for her. No older than 21 years old for her, he thought with a smile, and Arnav would be the first to admit that he was 29 going on 70. Too old for the firebrand. Arnav shook his head and pushed off from the stationary position, thinking. The swing moved awkwardly, unused to the big man on its tiny seat. By turns, he thought, he had passed that knowledge on to Khushi, and maybe that had spared her whatever heartbreak she would have faced without it, otherwise. Whatever awkwardness that would perhaps have made her retreat into her shell, too scared to risk her tender heart. Arnav had been given the knowledge to protect her to the best of his, and her own abilities in a world so unlike hers, a world that he had belonged to once but the change that had been wrought to his life had thrust her away from it. Arnav hadn't’ known where he belonged then - It was Keerthika who had made him realized that you didn’t wait to fit in. You merely carved your own niche. It was a knowledge that started everything. That had been at the root of ASR’s birth. Arnav kept on walking. Thinking. He sat on one of the children’s swings, his legs dragging on the soft grass underneath - too big for the rainbow colored seat. He remembered the quick successions of events that followed, everything falling like Dominos would -as Arnav had planned for them to fall.
It had been three weeks after Keertika’s departure, that Arnav had been called upon personally by his Boss. and instructed to look after and entertain ‘Shoma’ while Daddy was out of town. Arnav had turned to look at Shomaya only to find her regarding him with one of her amused sneers. And that frozen fury that had resided in his belly for so long, had loosened a bit. He hadn’t forgotten about it but was surprised to note that the intensity hadn’t, in a these weeks, lessened any. Arnav had then decided that Keertika’s education would be used first and foremost on her own bad seed. He had, of course, apologized to Keertika in her mind, but he needed all the weapons he could get to teach this brat a lesson. His sixth sense though, told him that Keerthika would probably have enjoyed it watching her useless daughter cut down to size, had she known. For whatever she was, unlike her daughter she had never taken her wealth for granted - having worked for everything she had ever owned. She was, he smiled, contrary that way.
And so, he had taken a day off- making sure to pick Shomaya up and show her around some the best places in Delhi, taking her to lunch as well as Dinner and accompanying her to her suite. Out of an obligation, perhaps, she had asked him to join her- and Arnav had accepted, graciously.
What had followed after that, had been sweet revenge. He had teased her almost to the brink, over and over again, only to bring her back to earth and start to build it all over again. He had set about disturbing her concentration as it had never been disturbed, with a vengeance- and he had succeeded. By the time he was halfway through with her, she had been panting. He had smiled sardonically as he had moved over her, Not a boy anymore Ms. Malhotra? he had thought, and had smirked when she had come apart in his arms- his name on her lips, even as her nails scratched lightly down his back.
And he had repeatedly shown her what Heaven really meant. Throughout the night.
The next morning, when he had woken up, Arnav had not really been surprised to find her sitting beside him in bed, wearing his shirt, as she coyly traced patterns on his back. “Good Morning Arnav.” she had whispered with a smile, when he had looked up at her, and indicated a tray placed on the bedside table with her eyes. “Would you like to have Breakfast in bed?”
He had smirked, satisfied. He had her, where he wanted her. Exactly where he wanted her. He had accepted the offer and enjoyed the breakfast thoroughly, watching her as she served him toast and coffee, as coyly as a new wife would her husband. And he had let her.
After a while, when he had decided he really needed to get back to work and dressed up, she had called out to him. “Arnav? I was thinking, maybe... I should stay another week in Delhi, what do you think?” her eyes had been shining, a smile almost breaking on those lips he had worshipped last night with his own- and he had smirked back.
“That is a fine idea. I don’t think you have really been around Delhi very much. There are a lot of places you should see, you know.” he had said, as he pulled on his jacket. She had laughingly rolled her eyes and pouted; more suggestively this time, licking the lip gloss slicked lips.
“All the places I’m interested in seeing... you can show me the best, can’t you Arnav?”
And he had smiled pleasantly again. “I may not be able to, because of the Hotel, but I’ll make sure to arrange a special car and chauffeur for you.” He had heard her exasperated sigh then, and had almost laughed.
“Arnav, I meant, what I want is to hook up again this week!” she had stated balefully, unhappy that the man had made her say the bald truth - a circumstance she wasn’t usually acquainted with and he had turned to her again- finished with dressing completely- polite smile firmly in place. One you would use for trying clients and non committal business partners - “Oh, I’m sorry Ms. Malhotra. I won’t be able to. I am a busy man. I can’t invest in stocks that show promise, but end up paying such a poor dividend.” His smile still politely pleasant, but his eyes hard and cold roving suggestively over her form. And Shomaya’s mouth had almost fallen open in shock. “I’ll take your leave now, Ms. Malhotra.” he had said, walking to the door. But before he had exited, he hadn’t been able to resist one last parting shot.
“Although, I am a little surprised at your lack of skill, Ms. Malhotra.... being your Mother’s Daughter- I had expected much better from you.” He had shrugged then, nonchalantly, even as his insides almost danced gleefully at her horrified expression. “Have a good stay Ms. Malhotra.”
And that had been the last he’d seen of her.
Arnav Singh Raizada had never looked back after that.
He shook his head, wondering if he was somehow paying for those early sins of his in the form of Khushi, now. He had been so happy in finally exacting his revenge that day, he had treated Khushi to the rare Ice-cream treats they had shared at that time. What wouldn't he give for that old innocently girlish Khushi to be back with him right now, instead of this... this siren that had taken up residence in his life and his mind in the most disturbing of ways. Maybe, he mused, maybe he could recreate that triumphant feeling. She liked ice-cream, didn’t she? Maybe this childish dessert would be the key to making everything just right again; putting everything on an even keel again. He would, he thought, walking briskly down to the nearest Hagen Daaz outlet, just get her a large tub of Dulce de Leche. She loved it. They would eat it, watch a ridiculous movie - something like A Cabin in the Woods, perhaps and laugh. Laughter was the best medicine, wasn’t it? His mother sure said so a million times a day. Time to put your money where your mouth is, Ma, he thought wryly, carrying the large tub, as he ran up the stairs, two or three at a time. Arnav was excited. Ice cream would perhaps bring his little ward back to him. He wouldn’t be an ex-guardian any more, stuck in a relationship that had no defining parameters. Arnav didn’t understand things that didn’t have them - wasn’t codified. What was he then, to her? He needed to know. Guardian seemed, he thought, slowly opening their apartment door, the safest option at this point. Arnav slammed the door shut behind him and went searching for his little girl who just looked all grown up. If that last part sounded like a desperate wish, Arnav didn’t really care. Needs, he knew, were a must. Desperate times called out to desperate measures.
She had been in her room when he had left her- and he was quite sure she was still in there- sleeping like a baby. His baby, he thought with a fond smile and walked to her closed bedroom door. His hand almost turning the knob, before he stopped himself and knocked, twice.
“Khushi?” he called out softly, and waited for her to answer. When after about five minutes, she still hadn’t answered, he was sure that she was still asleep. Eager to wake her up and present her with her favorite Ice-cream, to see that gleeful, bright smile light her face up- because of him- he opened the door and stepped in, quietly- only to stop short, as his breath was almost physically knocked out of him.
His mind had stopped working- completely. Coherent and Rational thoughts abandoning him cruelly, as all he could do was stare- his mouth dry- at the sight in front of him. There she was- not his little girl, not his childish Khushi who was his girl- but the siren. And this time, the siren had gone all out in trying to make him realize that his girl had indeed grown up.
She stood there, that sylph, her damp dark hair clinging to her creamy neck, little drops of water running down the gentle slope of her neck- almost calling him to chase them with his tongue, like you would chase a mercury drop, he thought dazed - and then suck them off gently from that beautiful skin that looked all rose and peaches right now. If he sucked hard.. harder, would it leave a mark? Why did that infantile thought appeal to him so fully right now? She had been searching for something on her dresser, which she had apparently found, as he saw her gorgeous cheeks lift in a delicate smile and those juicy lips, he thought, fascinated - they parted and those pearly whites peeked through, and then the next second, his breath hitched, swayed and disappeared.
She had opened her terry bathrobe and let it fall down to her waist- keeping her thighs thankfully covered- but leaving her back and sides bare- he thought with a pained gulp of breath- and felt himself getting aroused. A event that was frighteningly common when she was around him these days. Her hands lifted then, sparing him a teasing peek of the sides of her breasts, he almost groaned out loud, as she reached back, rubbing what seemed to be lotion into her neck and down her back, twisting as she tried to reach a bit more of unreachable places. And Arnav had to stamp on the urge to volunteer - to take the lotion in his hands, warm it with his body heat- in his own callused and rough palms and rub it into her skin, slowly, painstakingly- fine grade sandpaper sanding down a wood to a silky finish. Memorising each inch of her exposed skin, before he worshipped it with his lips, tongue, teeth. Would she respond? Would she shiver, he wondered, when he nipped at that spot behind her ear, would she hiss? What would she do, if he turned her around, and rubbed and massaged the lotion into the swell of her breasts? Down her taut stomach, to her abdomen? spreading it slowly, as he reached her thighs, his hands moving in on her femininity... he shuddered. What the hell was wrong with him? What the fucking hell was he even doing watching her almost naked? He closed his eyes, and breathed long and hard through his nose- and then winced. Wrong Move. The seductively female smell of her lotion reaching his nostrils, engulfing his senses- and rendering him mindless with need again. It was the lotion he had innocently gifted her with on her Birthday this year, he thought. Bath and Bodywork’s Dark Kiss - what had seemed so innocent in the fussily feminine purple bottle smelled like liquid sex on her skin. Giving his olfactory nerves a workout. Linking them with his libido. Negative conditioning, he thought panicked. He really was a masochistic bastard!
He turned around, his twisted mind still replaying the seductress rubbing lotion into her silky skin, Ice-cream tub forgotten in his hands, and rushed out. He needed to get out and far, far away from her or he just might explode, or combust- or... or do something really really stupid. Something that his mind seemed to think was now getting into the zone of compulsory.
He shivered, disgusted at himself, and slammed the tub down on the dining table- snatching his phone and keys up and racing out the door- for the second time that day. Firmly looking ahead, not trusting himself to look back and not rush back to her- take her in his arms... and just take her. Against that dresser, or against the wall of her bedroom- or maybe against the shower stall in her bathroom.... he closed his eyes. No, NO! What was he thinking? This was Khushi. He was... he had been thinking of bedding Khushi. He had been thinking of having crazy, bed breaking monkey sex with Khushi. The 13 years old girl he had raised to adulthood. He winced. He needed Drinks... and something loud to drown out these fucking (he winced again) thoughts. He needed to get his mind back on track- and he was bloody well going to make sure that it was, before he let himself within a fifty meter radius of her. Going to South Bombay and sitting alone in a booth at Not Just Jazz By The Bay seemed to appeal more and more with every passing second.
And that is why, forty five minutes later, found Arnav Singh Raizada sipping a glass of Scotch as he sat quietly in the bar, brooding over the thoughts and feelings that were going to either drive him to sure and inescapable insanity or ruin everything that he and Khushi had built up together over the past eleven years.
And the worst thing was, he couldn’t see another option in sight.
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