ArHiK::Wicked::Ch6-The Casualties[Pg -30] - Page 12

"… the slimy little Karakoff-Pettigrew offspring… I wonder if his parents know what a dirty little worm he is, I bet they don't I'll bet …Not that I care…why would I care?…just because Dean Barrymore breaks out into a display of her pearly white just at the sight of him…stupid cow… "

The truth was in fact, that Amna was about as calm as a Weasley with a temperament to match.

🤣 Thank You Madam

getting more interesting and definitely WICKED...😉

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W I C K E D

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Chapter Four - Relative Stranger's

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"Oh?"

"Oh." Confirmed Aryan, the low sexy murmur, raising the hairs at the back of Linda Bradshaw's neck.

Her bold red lips curving into an inviting smile as she felt, the oh-so-hot man she'd just happened to bump into at her apartment, slide his warm palm up to cup her shoulders as he finished demonstrating how to throw a bowling ball she'd been using since she was six.

Lina could barely hold back the giggle bubbling up inside her. Aryan Raizada was one fine specimen of mankind and today just felt like every romantic-comedy she'd ever watched come to life! The fancy dinner, the casual walk down the street the spontaneous stop to go bowling in a out of the way bowling rink a block down from heroh notheir apartment. After all Mr. Raizada was now officially neighbor number 405, right next door to her and Amy.

Oh God! She couldn't wait to tell Amy!

Suddenly, Lina felt the hand on her hip slide slightly lower, almost as if by accident, unsure she tilted her head to look back at her date, hazel brown eyes the color of burnt-honey looked back at her, "How about we call it a night."

Or maybe, she figured as she nodded, she'd just leave a sock on the door, and dish later, Lina reached a hand out to smooth away a lock of hair from his forehead only to blink startled when he snapped away "Ah-uh," he teased, his voice, making her pool within herself, "The hair is off-limits." He murmured.

Amused, Lina slid a hand down obediently, "Really?" she asked surprised, her hands hovering suggestively over his belt, blocked from public view by nothing but his broad shoulders, "Is anything else off-limits?" she asked suggestively.

Her dream-date, merely smiled.

***

"Amna, you know I don't like this. You didn't need to go move in with a gora, this is behuda! It's only a 2 hour commute!"

Amna stiffened imperceptibly, carefully, very carefully, she laid her fork down, her eyes meeting with her mother's across the dinner table, as she lifted a napkin to dab delicately at her lips.

"It's easier for my classes, Abba." Stated Amna,, her voice perfectly modulated, clear and level, Amna Hassan had learned long ago, to never let disgust towards her father physically manifest in anyway.

It wasn't worth it.

And that Amna had learned the hard way.

***

"Oh..Oh...OH!!" squealed the currently speech impaired blonde, writhing under the ministrations of a particularly talented Raizada, one leg hitched high up his thigh, the other balancing her against the wall she was leaning on.

The specimen of male perfection she was writhing against on the other hand seemed as singularly unaffected by their current activity as she seemed affected by it.

In fact to the unbiased onlooker the young man in question would appear particularly jaded. Almost as if he was ... uninterested' to say the least.

Particularly unusual conduct for someone as young as his mere twenty-four years.

However although merely twenty-four, the truth of the matter was - Aryan Singh Raizada was bored.

He'd been so for quite some time he admitted, pushing away from the questionable 'lady' in question as he unconcernedly repaired his attire, a stray glance at a reflective window, causing him to spend a few extra minutes on his hair as his companion, still gasping in the aftermath finally found her footing.

Women.

He had specifically told her not to touch his hair, not that it really mattered but he detested it when women felt the need to muss a perfectly gelled look merely to 'express' passion.

In fact it was with that very thought in mind that he stepped out of his companion's apartment with a slow smirk in way of goodbye. Given he'd just taken expedient measures to inject himself in to Amna Hassan's life, he could ill afford to alienate her room-mate. He'd have to have someone send her roses tomorrow; even discounting her infuriating tendency to fiddle with his hair her performance was tedious at best. The roses would pacify her, and his sudden work-load would be the excuse he used to keep her at bay, given his intention to stay absolutely scrupulously polite, Little Lina would soon be convinced that his lifestyle not choice kept them apart and as a result would begin to believe they would have grown apart regardless. She would continue to pursue herself that he was staying away from her so as not to hurt her and therefore forge a psychological need to reciprocate with what she would perceive as his 'favor' to her.

In short, Amna Hassan's roomie would suddenly find herself feeling increasingly indebted to him, giving him free-er access not only to Amna, but to her room when she wasn't around. Given the file he'd read, Father and daughter shared an unusually close bond, Amir Hassan's pride in his daughter was not something the man hid. It was possible if not probable, that she had firsthand knowledge even if only fragmented of the situation.

Although thought, Aryan, that was just a presumption, thinking back to her room-mate , he shrugged to himself, he'd expected better from her, he mused silently; the last society priss he'd dated, had been a red-head who'd kept herself interesting for a good two-weeks. Linda really should learn to pick up a few tricks from her contemporaries, he thought to himself, considering sending her a note saying just that and maybe even a few toys to help her along as he made his way down the hall. Or perhaps a menage?

No, he had to get back to India this Sunday, and he couldn't afford to have two women stalking him this time.

The last time one of his exploits had decided to misunderstand his token farewell, his mother had very nearly drowned the house in jalebi batter.

On the off chance that something like that was to happen again, two women would be much too problematic for even him to talk his way out of.

Well not essentially but it would be a bother, and an unnecessary one at that. On the other hand, it would be worth the look on his father's face, when his mother asked him why neither of his girlfriend's particularly objected to the other.

In fact so engrossed in that particularly perverse topic that he stood broodingly at the, second-floor landing for a good minute, in turn being just about to take his next step when a fur-ball with a cardboard box cannon-balled straight into him.

For a second Aryan froze. But then, his eyes adjusted to the dim corridor light, and then he broke into a Cheshire grin as he drawled,-

"Good-morning, Ms.Hassan, was it?"

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Author's Note:

Here is the New Policy - Since I'm honestly quite fed up of PMing hundreds of readers when I know only a few of you comment and since it's not fair for those of you who comment to not receive PM's - If you DO NOT read my work PLEASE take me off your list, it will make the job easier for me and you don't have to get useless PM's. If you don't and I go through my Buddy List at the end of this week and find you don't comment, I am going to have to do it myself.

The above does NOT APPLY to my regular reader-com mentor's - you know who you are.

As Always - Do read and review.😊

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