Jab We Met part 24 updated (arsh fan fic) - Page 4

Part 5

While the food was being placed on the table, Armaan watched as Shilpa finished her glass of wine and then poured another, wondering … well, just wondering. He had no problem admitting he couldn't identify the emotional thing well at all, but he knew when a woman wanted him to kiss her, or vice versa. He knew. In all the years he'd been kissing girls, he'd never misread that one … ever. Could he have misread this one? He wished the staff would finish up and get out of there so he could find out.

Nearly five minutes later, they were gone. Armaan turned towards Shilpa, who still wasn't looking at him.

"Whatever it is, I can take it," Armaan told her, despite that being a total lie.

"Whatever what is?" She asked, briefly glancing at him occasionally.

"Why didn't you kiss me back?" He wanted to know.

"Uh-"

"Speak, Shilpa."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a dog!" She snapped, and then reached for one of the lids covering a dish.

"No!" He said. "You're not eating until you answer me."

"You can't starve me to death because I don't want to answer your question," she replied.

"Wanna bet?" He asked.

"It's embarrassing," she frowned.

"What's embarrassing?" He took a few steps closer to her. "I thought you wanted me to kiss you. Why didn't you kiss me back?"

"I did," she tried to assure him. "I did want you to kiss me, but-"

"But?" He asked.

"Oh God," she murmured as she took another drink of her wine.

Armaan took the goblet from her and said, "Answer me."

"Please let me have one more drink," she pleaded.

"No," he replied.

"Ididn'tkissyoubackbecauseIdidn'tknowhow," she quickly spoke. "I've never been kissed … by anyone."

"What?" He couldn't believe it.

She thought he hadn't heard her, so she spoke more slowly this time. "I didn't kiss you back because I didn't … I don't know how," she said, reverting to looking everywhere but him.

"I heard what you said," he informed her. "I just don't believe it."

"You think I'm lying?" She asked.

"No." He had a confused look on his face.

"Then why don't you believe it?" She took a defensive stance as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't believe it because you're you," he said, gesturing towards her. "Did your dad keep you locked up or something?"

"Or something," she replied. "And just so we're clear, I haven't done anything else either. Do you still want to have dinner with me?" Where was she supposed to run to and cry out here? "Because if you don't, I'll understand." The tears that welled in her eyes spilled over and streamed down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" He asked.

"I'm not," she insisted, as she sniffled and quickly wiped her eyes.

Armaan set her glass down and said, "There's no reason for you to be embarrassed, Shilpa. So what if you've never kissed anyone or had sex? I've kissed and had sex with everyone."

"Everyone?" Her eyes widened.

"Not everyone, but more than I care to admit. It's actually one of those details I would have rather kept to myself," he told her. "Do you still want to have dinner with me?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Good," he said, "because I still want to have dinner with you … and tomorrow I'd like to go snorkeling with you, but later, after dinner, I'm taking a do-over."

"A what?"

"Forget that kiss," he told her.

"I don't think I can," she replied.

"Then maybe just shove it aside," he suggested, "because I'm going to give you a lesson in kissing you won't soon forget."

"Okay," she said.

"Okay," he agreed as he walked over and pulled her chair out for her. All that possessiveness he'd already been feeling was compounded. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head and said, "It's okay." He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze and then walked around to the opposite side of the table to sit down.

They ate in silence for several minutes before anyone spoke again.

"I can't say I blame your father for keeping you locked up." Armaan finally commented. "Although, he should have gotten over it a few years ago unless he's planning on turning you into a nun and sending you off to a convent. If that's the case, you should probably tell me now."

"I'm not becoming a nun," she told him. Although it would be preferable to what's waiting for me.

"For what it's worth," Armaan said, "Anything you say to me really would stay between us. I just feel like you're going to implode from whatever it is you're concealing, and that's not me trying to invade your privacy. I'm just concerned because emotional stress can cause health problems and so forth. You cry on a dime. You guard everything you say."

"It's complicated," she said, "and I'd rather keep it separate from you, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," he replied.

"What do you like to do when you're not operating on people?" She asked.

"I'm always operating on people," he told her.

"Even on the weekends?"

"Sometimes," he said. "My preference is to always be in an operating room with a scalpel in my hand."

"Why?" She asked.

He pondered how he should answer that for a moment, but then honestly stated, "I don't have anything better to do."

"You don't seem very sad about that," she told him.

"It's just the way it is," he shrugged. "When a person decides to become a surgeon, a good chunk of their life is eaten up by school and residency. When I was twenty-one, I was in medical school. God, I barely remember twenty-one."

"Twenty-one is not pleasant," she said. "In fact, I haven't found an age I really like."

"What do you do when you're home?" He asked. "For fun? What do you do?"

"Fun is locking myself in my room, listening to my iPod, and surfing the Internet," she replied.

For the life of him, he could not figure out what her situation was. He couldn't put the few pieces of the puzzle he had together to form any sort of conclusion.

"You don't like being around other people?" He asked.

"I like being with you," she said.

"You know just what to say, don't you?" He smirked.

"It's still the truth," she replied.

"You're not being emotionally or physically abused are you?" He gently asked.

"No," she said.

"Are you afraid to go home?" He wanted to keep her talking, even if he had to ask questions that were more outside the circle.

"No," she replied.

"Do you want to go home?"

She started to speak, but then stopped herself. Then she said, "No."

He elected to stop the questioning there, before she bailed and said, "I don't want to go home either."

"You don't?" She asked.

"Not anymore," he replied. "We could stay."

"I can't," she told him.

"Why not?" He asked.

"I think we should just make the most of the time we do have," she replied.

"I intend to," he informed her, "but if you change your mind-"

"I … can't."

He noticed she said can't again,instead of won't.

"Shilpa."

Her insides just melted every time he called her by that name.

"I don't care how long we have here," he told her, "but one thing I know for certain is that when we say goodbye, it won't be forever. In fact, I'm not even going to bother."

The remainder of dinner was relatively quiet as they chose only to speak through their eyes, neither really sure what was happening between them; however, both were well aware that something was definitely transpiring … something indescribable, intangible … and rare.

Later after the table was cleared and removed, Armaan and Shilpa spread out a large blanket on the beach. The night was too beautiful to go inside, so they'd ordered some dessert and bottle of Courvoissier.

"I've never seen so many stars," Shilpa commented as she gazed up at the sky.

"Do you normally pay close attention to the stars?" He asked, sipping his brandy.

"Yes," she said. "Some nights I sit by my window and stare out at them for hours."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she replied. "Sometimes I think they may have the answers to my questions."

"That's a copout," he told her.

"Why?" She asked.

"If you really wanted answers to your questions, then you'd ask someone who could answer you, rather than a bunch of burning balls of fire," he replied.

"Except that it doesn't really matter what the answers are because they won't change anything," she mildly snapped.

"I'm not sure who you're trying to torment more … yourself or me," he said.

"I'm not trying to do anything to anyone," she replied. "I'm just trying to find a way to survive."

"Okay," Armaan said. "That's it. You've got five seconds to tell me exactly what's going on."

"Wrong," she replied.

"Wrong?"

"Yes, wrong," she said and then did the only thing she could think of to divert his attention. She simply pressed a single, soft kiss to his lips.

"That's not fair," he told her. "You can't just kiss me to avoid answering a question."

"You didn't ask me a question," she replied. "You demanded an answer that you're not going to get. If you can't live with that, then say the word and I'll go."

Armaan's mind was negotiating with itself until he saw Shilpa start to get up. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, quickly stopping her while mentally chastising himself. "You would actually leave?" He quietly asked.

"I have to do a lot of things I don't want to do," she replied.

He thought she looked as lovely as she ever had in the brief time he'd known her with her thick mane of dark, shiny hair, which skimmed the swells of her breasts. Her eyes were wide and innocent; her nose, charming, and full red lips that were begging to be kissed - lips that he could claim had only been kissed by his.

"It's still not fair," he quietly spoke as his hand moved to the side of her arm where one of the thin straps of her dress had fallen. He slowly pushed the delicate strap back onto her shoulder, giving her chills.

"Life isn't fair," she whispered.

"No, I guess it isn't," he spoke just as quietly, before brushing his lips across hers.

"I thought you were going to teach me," she replied, trembling, as he did it again.

"I'll lead," he told her. "You follow."

"But-"

With one side of her porcelain face nestled in his hand, he softly kissed her. He could taste the sweet elixir they'd been sharing upon her lips.

"I don't know what to do," she quietly told him.

"Yes, you do," he insisted as he kissed first her upper lip, and then her lower lip.

The extent of her kissing experience had been limited to kissing the cheeks of various people, most of whom she would have preferred not to have kissed at all.

"Relax," he spoke as he slipped a hand around her waist and instructed her to lie back onto the blanket.

"Why?" She asked, a bit panicked at being horizontal with him, though he was only lying beside her. Still she felt intimidated by his mere presence.

His hand returned to caress her cheek as his lips melded to hers, teasing her … willing her to engage. He'd never wanted a woman to reciprocate his kiss the way he wanted Shilpa to. Normally, he didn't give a damn, but this was different. Whatever was simmering between them, he needed her to kiss him.

She had to admit it felt nice. It felt better than nice, especially when he slipped his tongue between her lips and swirled it about hers. The idea of someone sticking their tongue in her mouth always seemed a bit disconcerting, but this was heavenly – pure heaven.

"Kiss me," he quietly rasped, as his lips continued to bestow the most wonderful sensations upon hers.

He waited patiently, their mouths separated by a few inches as Shilpa contemplated kissing him.

"Don't think so hard about it," he tried to encourage her. "Just do it."

Shilpa called upon the books she'd read, sliding her hand to the back of his neck and then pulling him down to her. The first couple of kisses were like sticking your toes into the water to make sure the water wasn't too hot or too cold, before you stepped all the way in. Satisfied it was safe to go in, while praying he wouldn't make fun of her if she turned out to be a decidedly bad kisser, she kissed him again.

Armaan was more than content to let her use him to figure it out. There was something quite humbling about being someone's first kiss, which naturally led to thoughts about other firsts; however, he forced himself to focus on the kissing.

"This seems so strange," she confessed.

"It won't after an hour or two," he told her.

"An hour or two?"

"Or longer," he smiled before capturing her mouth with his, and then kissing her in a way that left her no choice but to engage.

His hand moved to the smooth curve of her waist as he savored her lips, pleased when she began to mimic him. He was her mentor; she, his disciple. Armaan wasn't sure why, but that made him a little euphoric and aroused by the possibility that he could mold her into the perfect lover … and he was getting off-track again.

"I like kissing you," she softly spoke, her voice laced with a sweet shyness.

"Feel free to kiss me anytime you want," he replied and then lightly traced her lips with his tongue.

She boldly met his tongue with hers while his hand dropped from her waist in favor of threading his fingers through hers.

"Can we stay here all night?" She asked, breathless, in the midst of the kiss.

"We can do whatever you want," he replied.

"I just want to kiss you all night," she told him.

He smiled and said, "I like that in a woman," as their mouths melded together once again.

fantastic fanfic!!!:) plz update soon