A/N: Accept my apology guys...couldn't update on time because of an hectic day. Nevertheless, here's your most awaited chapter(Zoya's secret). Unfortunately the scene includes Slight Mature Content. So, if you are not comfortable just skip the part. Enjoy Reading.
Chapter Fourteen
Zoya blinked until the fuzz cleared from her eyes, her bedroom coming into view. All was as she'd left it, save for the man's shirt and tie hanging from the edge of the curtain rod over the window.
What"
Something shifted on the bed, warm breath fanning her neck. She stiffened, slowly turned her head"and came face-to-face with a sleeping Asad.
Asad!
That's right. He'd come over in the middle of the night, wanting but not wanting her to draw a picture. He'd crawled into bed and pulled her beside him, holding her close. His arm was still draped over her middle, his lashes casting spiky shadows over his cheeks.
His soft expression made him appear boyish, carefree, and inside her, a well of tenderness bubbled over. She remembered their talk, his hands on her skin, and she instantly went up in flames, her desire for him returning"had it ever really left?
Why not pick up where they'd left off?
Yes, oh, yes.
As stealthily as she was able, she crawled from the bed and tiptoed into the bathroom, took care of business and brushed her teeth, then crawled back into bed. Asad, who hadn't stirred, now curled around her, as if he'd been waiting for her, his warm breath a caress against her neck.
"Asad," she whispered, hoping to ease him awake.
He sighed softly, inserting a leg between hers and draping a hand over her rib cage.
Anticipation caused her to tense. If he moved that hand up just a few inches...
Up...up...it slid, and she held her breath"do it, please
do it"but he stopped just before he actually cupped her. Hot tremors swept through her, and she swallowed a whimper.
"Asad. Wake up." Please.
His thumb brushed upward again and again, sending heated shivers through her. More desperate by the second, she squirmed against him. When the not-quite-enough torment continued, she inched downward, forcing him to cup her at last. All the while his thumb continued to brush up.
The air deflated from her lungs. "Asad," she repeated, arching up, rubbing against his thigh"yes, yes!"practically driving herself insane with the promise of more.
The movement of his thumb slowed as it drew closer, closer to where she needed it most"but not close enough.
Argh! "Asad. I mean it. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey."
Again his thumb brushed up"and this time...this time he stroked her. A cry of delight parted her lips, lances of pleasure shooting through her. Realization, too. He couldn't be doing this in his sleep. He just couldn't. The effect was too masterful, the touch too skilled.
She flipped open her lids"and found him smiling at her with wicked intent.
* * *
You smell like cinnamon and mint, baby. Did you brush your teeth hoping I'd kiss you?" The thought wrecked him. She'd wrecked him.
"Yes. Yes."
Asad knew he should resist. He'd come here with every intention of telling her the plan. He would be setting her up with someone else. But look where he'd ended up. In her bed, wrapped around her, desperate for her.
He couldn't resist her. He'd always been a sexual man, but never like this. She'd somehow caused him to devolve, stripping him of etiquette and turning him into little more than an animal.
"You want me, even though I won't commit to you?" Let there be no misunderstandings between them. "You're willing to be with me?"
She stiffened. "Even though."
Guilt pricked at his gut-wrenching desire. Her reaction, despite her words... He should definitely get up, dress and leave. He nuzzled her neck instead, the need for her, only her, undeniable. "I'm going to make you feel so good, baby."
"This," she said, arching into his touch like a needy little kitty, "is a wonderful start."
This was only the beginning. "Good." He lifted his head. "Do not move from that position."
"But""
"I mean it." He dragged himself out of bed and padded to the bathroom, where he quickly brushed his teeth, using her brush and paste. She wouldn't be the only one with minty-fresh breath. That done, he returned to the bed, any lingering resistance dying as he peered down at her. A flawless treat, ready to be devoured.
Urgency rode him hard"take her, now, now"but he stood in place. "So there are no misunderstandings, I need you to tell me how far I can go."
She licked her lips. "You can only use your hands...and lips on me. Give me pleasure."
Ruthless need battered at him as he crawled toward her. "Pleasure...as in sex?"
Now she hesitated. "I don't... I..."
All right. He'd take that as a no. No matter. He could do plenty with his hands and lips. And she could do plenty with hers. "I believe we ended last night with your hand right...here." He placed her palm flat against his erection.
"Yes," she moaned, squeezing him.
He gently bit into her bottom lip, drawing the tender flesh between his teeth. "The better to please you." He pushed up her tank, baring her beautiful bosoms.
"Wait." She began to struggle against him, frantic. "Don't. I'll leave the shirt on."
But it was too late. He saw the scars. A collage of them began just below her collarbone and stretched all the way to her navel, even covering her breasts. There were jagged pink lines and patches of puckered skin, as if someone else's skin had been sewed to her. The sight almost proved to be his undoing, not because it was ugly"nothing about her was ugly"but because of the pain she must have endured.
A wave of tenderness overtook him, and he kissed the tip of one scar...the tip of another. He had to know what had happened to her, and he had to know now. But when his gaze flipped up to her face and he realized she was staring just over his shoulder, that she'd gone stiff as she waited for his verdict, his rejection, he decided he couldn't do it. Not now.
"You only grow more beautiful with every second that passes, baby. How is that possible?" He lowered his head again, kissed the edge of one of the scars and this time he traced his tongue over the puckered edge.
Slowly the tension melted from her. She wound her arm around him, her nails soon digging into his back. "You don't have to lie. Not with me."
"I'm not lying. In fact, I will never lie to you. Not about this or anything else. You promised me, and now I promise you." He sucked on her lower lip.
"Asad." She gasped.
He yanked the tank over her head. Every obstacle had to go. Strands of long hair fell over her shoulders, the pillow, and as he ran his fingers between her breasts, down her stomach, he felt the evidence of more scars. Far more than he'd realized. He kicked off the covers, baring the rest of her. Some of the scars were bigger than others, clearly deeper.
Aching for her, he kissed another scar, then another, his fingers still traveling down.
"Part your legs for me, Zoya."
The moment she obeyed, he thrust a finger deep, and oh, hell, she was tight. Sweat beaded on his brow, the urge to rip off her remaining clothes and sink inside her a tangible thing.
The way she clung to him, as if he were as necessary to her as breathing, only magnified the sensations blasting through him, and in that moment, she was necessary to him.
The heel of his palm pressed where she ached most, and as her body's shivers vibrated into his, that very necessary control slipped farther and farther away.
"Touch me," he demanded.
"But...aren't I already?" Then understanding hit her and she eagerly shoved her hand down.
What had been a delight only seconds before became a glorious torment. While her rhythm lacked any kind of finesse, her unfettered excitement and enthusiasm touched him deep inside, where no one else had ever been.
"Look at me," he commanded.
Those baby blues were almost too hazed to focus. Her pupils were blown, nothing but pools of desire, drowning him...but what a way to go.
Later, He collapsed beside her, and he wasn't sure how much time passed before he had the strength to rise.
She draped her hands over her eyes, her cheeks flushing to a gorgeous rose. Embarrassed? After what they'd just done?
The tenderness returned, redoubled, and he tossed the rag aside. He removed her hands from her face and smiled at her. "You are a treasure, you know that?" He smoothed a lock of damp hair from her face. "Never change."
She gripped the covers, those ocean-water eyes languid with satisfaction"and dread. "Is this the part where you blow me off?"
Her lips were red and swollen from his kisses, and it took him a moment to get his attention off them and onto her words. "Blow you off? You're my friend, rabbit. You're stuck with me."
"Well. That's something, at least." Hesitantly, she stood and dressed in the tank and shorts. "Last night you mentioned something you and Priya wanted to do for me."
His shoulders instantly tightened and sweat beaded on the back of his neck. He swiped up his shirt and tugged it on, and realized he was trembling as he haphazardly buttoned it. He didn't bother fastening his pants.
"Let's talk about it later, okay?" Way later...or never. Yeah. Never sounded good.
"That's what you said last night. Asad, what's going on?" Worry darkened her features. "Tell me before I have a panic attack."
"No reason to panic, baby. It's nothing bad."
He'd said he would never lie to her, and he wouldn't. He hadn't. What he and Priya planned wasn't bad for her.
He was another story.
"Asad."
"He pulled at his collar, saying, "Priya thinks it will be a good idea if we find you...a man. Someone better than me." The material ripped, and he dropped his hand to his side. He could only grit out the rest of the explanation. "Someone who will meet all your needs."
She stumbled back as if he'd kicked her, the color draining from her face, leaving her pale and waxen. "You and Priya think..." A wealth of hurt peered at him as she floundered for a response.
"You want me to be with someone else?
Already?"
Never! he almost snarled. He hated the thought of her with someone else, and there was a good chance the guy would end up in the hospital before all was said and done. "I want you happy. You deserve to be happy. This is for the best."
Hurt gave way to anger. "Whose best?"
"Well, it sure the hell isn't mine," he shouted, then immediately hung his head in shame. He had no right to yell at her. Blame rested on his shoulders, and his alone. "I'm sorry."
"Stuff your sorry." She pointed to the door. "Get out."
No. No way in hell was he leaving her like this. "If you don't want another man, don't be with another man. But""
"Out!"
He shook his head, desperate to get through to her. "I'm not leaving until you give me what you promised. Your secret."
"I'm not telling you anything," she spat.
"You promised."
"That was before I knew your plan to pawn me off on someone else."
Ripped apart inside, he said, "If I could commit, it would be with you, Zoya. I've never wanted a woman the way I want you, but I'm just not hardwired that way. I can't do a relationship, I don't want a family. You still want those things"right?"
"She was silent for a moment. Slowly, she nodded.
Her agreement wasn't a surprise, but was still somehow a blow he hadn't been prepared to take. "Like I said, I can't give those things to you." He hated those words. They were final. The end of this, whatever it was. He wanted to fall to his knees and beg her to forget he'd said anything.
But he didn't. Love and lose. It was the story of his life. Even if he could love her, he couldn't stand to lose her.
Zoya opened her mouth, closed it. Silent, she studied his features for a long while. Whatever she saw removed the starch from her shoulders.
"Do you think you'll cheat on me?" she asked.
"No! I know I wouldn't. I know the toll infidelity takes on everyone involved, and I will never be a part of it. But I won't put myself in a position to be responsible for someone else's happiness."
"I'm responsible for my own happiness."
She said that, probably even believed it, but he would one day do something to upset her, and she would regret being with him. She would leave him. "Your secret," he insisted.
"You never want to talk about anything else," she snapped.
"Tell me what happened to you, and I'll stop asking."
"No."
"Tell me."
"No!"
"Damn it, Zoya. Tell me! You owe me."
She glared at him, her chest rising and falling so quickly he feared she would faint. "You really want to know? Fine! Someone threw gasoline on me and lit a match."
She'd been set on fire? "Zoya," he said, her name nothing but a broken whisper. He reached for her.
"No! Keep your sympathy," she spat, jolting back. "I don't want it."
"Too bad. Your stupid pride can't comfort you"but I can."
"You? How can you comfort me, Asad? Right now, you're my tormentor."
He bit back a curse. "Tell me who hurt you." He would find the guy. The girl. Whoever. What happened after that, happened.
The anger drained from her, and she wrapped her arms around her middle. "My Ammi and I went shopping in the city. I always wanted to shop back then. Had to keep up appearances, you know." She gave a bitter laugh. "If I wasn't the best, I wasn't happy. But I wasn't happy, anyway. I was rude to everyone that day, as usual. The salesgirls. Our waiter when we had lunch. Even my Ammi. It was as we were walking back to our car. The sidewalk was so crowded. People were everywhere, and someone bumped into me, knocking me back. I felt a splash of something wet, then a searing pain on my stomach. I fell backward and rammed into someone else and was pushed farther back, getting lost in the crowd, the burning only growing worse. Then people started shouting and running all around me. My Ammi tried to get to me, but there were too many in the way. I fell, and people ran over me, crushing me, but they put out the flames, at least."
"Did you see who did it?"
"No, but I can guess. Someone I'd wronged that day."
Not good enough. He wanted a name, and if it took him the rest of his life, he'd get one. There were ways. "Tell me what happened next."
"The crowd cleared and my Ammi finally reached me. She had worked with Dr. Luthra for years, Ratibad Valley's only doctor up until two years ago when Dr. Bhasker came along. The two got me patched up as best they could and set me up with a specialist to do the skin grafts. We decided not to talk to the police because Ammi feared I would be crucified, told I deserved it. Because I did."
"No," he said, furious on her behalf. "You didn't."
Maybe she suspected just how close he was to yanking her against him, because she moved to the door, twisted the knob. "Now you know my secret. You can go."
"Zoya""
"I won't be going into work today. I'm taking the day off."
"Fine, but you're not quitting." They weren't together, but he still couldn't stand the thought of losing her. Not yet.
Not ever.
"I didn't say I was quitting, just that I was taking a day off."
"Okay. All right." He owed her that much, at least. "But I want you to carry your phone everywhere you go. Before you argue, don't. You may not be at the office, but you'll still be on call."
"Fine."
"And we are going to finish this conversation."
"You mean the one where you tell me you'll be setting me up with other guys?" Her voice held a thousand notes of bitterness, one of fury and countless of hurt.
He ground his teeth, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes."
"Great. I can't wait. Now leave."
Bade Achche Lagte Hain Naya Season
Cricket
Kundali Bhagya
45