Always and Forever
Part - 14: Innumerable Fantasies

The cold winds whipped through the city, pleasing the roadside chaiwalas whose business thrived as people used whatever means of warmth they could get. The lone istriwala puffed as he aimed to accomplish his target, a small mountain of clothes sitting on the table. A brown mongrel sat near the society gate scratching its ear, eyeing people hoping for some morsels.

Inside the Agarwal house, the morning bhajans flowed through the air, and Chachaji lighted a diya in the small temple. Chachiji prepared morning tea, while Preeti was still curled up inside the blanket. Naina carefully mixed hot and cold water, checking the temperature by dipping her finger. Closing the bathroom door, she shed her clothes, and poured the warm water on herself. She enjoyed bathing and had a habit of humming to herself, slowly. She picked up the soap, lathering herself properly, drawing in the fragrance of the baby soap. As she poured water over herself again, her hand brushed against a spot, causing a slight twinge of pain. Frowning she looked down to see a small reddish-purple mark just above her right breast. Her fingers shook, and cheeks burned as she remembered how quickly Sameer had reacted to her words, for a moment she had thought he had completely lost control. The way he had pushed her flat on the mattress, the way he had scrambled on top of her, the deep hard kiss, the bite on her lower lip, his hands trailing beneath her top, his hips thrusting against hers. She ought to have felt scared. But she hadn’t. If anything, she had responded with equal fervour, kissing him back, stroking his body. She remembered her own movements vaguely, how she had hooked her leg to his, how she was lifting to him, and she recalled how it had affected Sameer. His had kissed her neck, pulling off her scarf, seeking more skin through her V-necked top.

Three incidences, three separate days – once when she had bit her lip teasing him into kissing her, the next when on that mattress after she had slapped him, and then just yesterday when she had provoked him by licking his lips – she had got to know that her Sameer had an extremely untamed side. Her fear or her excitement was that she hadn’t yet seen that side of him completely. She looked down tracing that mark with her fingertip, and her lips parted as she almost felt his lips and teeth on her skin. Her breathing turned ragged, her breasts tight, something coiled inside her belly, an empty throb between her legs. She clenched her thighs, closing her eyes, and bit her lip as an unexpected whimper escaped. The small sound startled her, and her eyes flew open, she looked toward the door as if fearing someone would hear her.

Shivering slightly, she pulled the small plastic stool, and sat on it, her knees suddenly felt very weak. Was this how it felt to be a woman? To be married? She had felt the dull aches and emptiness in college quite often but had never understood what it meant. Now she could recall that it was always Sameer who caused those sensations. She would be studying in the library, and suddenly look up to find him staring at her with a strange glitter in his eyes. Sometimes when they would sit together on the same bench, he would trace lazy circles on her hand with his fingers. Often while they sat talking, suddenly he would lean towards her and blow gently in her ears. Usually after such incidents, he would quickly pull back, and look anywhere but at her, and that perplexed her. But now she knew, she understood, that all those times Sameer was aroused. He had wanted to hold her, kiss her, but had refrained. He had strictly held onto his control – for her – because of her innocence, her boundaries and even frustratingly because of his own thoughts.

She could still feel some anger when she recalled how Sameer had so conveniently thought she could marry someone else if not him. But, then wasn’t that how Sameer was. He had lost so much since childhood, that somewhere deep down his biggest fear was still losing someone he loved. After Nanu, that person in his life was her. He would to everything to protect her, to keep her happy, to give her security. And holding back his own desires was part of that protective cover that he had extended to her since so many years. How had he done it? It astonished her to think of the amount of control he would have needed. She had only recently understood things and already she found it difficult to control herself when she was near him. It was as if there was a different Naina with Sameer, a woman who was confident in herself, who teased him into kissing her, who didn’t feel uneasy when his hands touched her bare skin, who responded to his desires with her own. She hid her face in her hands as she recalled how she had told him why she liked to see him in shirts.

Naina stood up and pulled the towel, rubbing herself dry, still lost in thoughts. Oh, who was she kidding. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t wondered. The romance novels she had read didn’t detail everything, but she had still gleaned some information, shamelessly re-reading the romantic escapades of the protagonists. She wondered how Sameer would look without a shirt. Years of boxing, and exercises had given a lean yet developed build to his body. She loved the way his shirt stretched over his chest, clinging to his abdomen, the sleeves tight over his biceps and shoulder when he would cross his arms. His habit of rolling up the sleeves had given her a very good view of his sinewy forearms, and she longed to trace those veins with her fingers and mouth. The undone buttons at the top of his shirt, gave a glimpse of his broad chest, and a small patch of hair. She had read descriptions of bare torso in books and wondered if Sameer had straight hairs on his chest or were they curly. Did it span over his whole chest, or stretched across in a diamond pattern? Just like the sophisticated heroes in the books, would he too have a thin line of hair trailing down his belly? Or did his body look more like the few Bollywood heroes she had seen shirtless? Just like the heroines in her novels, she too wanted to touch him and explore his body. She hadn’t thought she would want such a thing, but oh she did. Whenever he was with her, she wanted to touch him, feel his warmth.

She dressed up, carefully checking that the mark Sameer had left on her was hidden, and she wondered if there would be more such marks on her body now. Did he know he had done it? She frowned as she thought if she could do it too? Just the thought of doing something so bold left her blushing crimson. But when she was with Sameer, somehow, all her inhibitions fled. At that time, she just felt. She did what she wanted. And it seemed at least till now Sameer liked whatever she did. There were more descriptions in the books, and she had gone to the library to skim through more, sometimes feeling embarrassed at her own inquisitiveness. Some acts she didn’t understand, some terms confused her, and her curious mind demanded explanations. She had told Sameer that she had questions to ask, but could she? Could she ask those things to him? He had told her that now when they were going to married they need to talk more with each other, she shouldn’t hesitate in sharing her thoughts. He had repeatedly asked her what her questions were. And of course, he had his own set of questions. She chuckled as she recalled him asking how she knew about kiss. But his immediate next question on if she knew what happened after kiss made her blush.

She opened the bathroom door and shook her head at the sight of Preeti still buried beneath the blanket. Sitting in-front of the dressing table, she started combing her hair, and her mind recalled a particular scene from the current novel she was reading. She recollected how the hero had touched the heroine, how he had drifted down her body kissing her bare skin, and Naina again bit her lip to control her own reaction as she wondered if Sameer would do the same. God. How could she ask such things to him? Forget how, what would she ask? What words she could find to frame such questions?

The door to the bedroom pushed open as Chachiji came inside to wake up Preeti. Flustered, Naina quickly occupied herself in getting ready, hoping that her blushing cheeks would go unnoticed. Preeti grumbled as she woke up and lethargically walked to the bathroom.

“Naina, beta, main soch rahi thi ke aaj shukravaar hai na to bazaar jaake aate hai”, Bela said while folding the blanket.

Naina stood up to help her arrange the bed, “bazaar? Kyun Chachiji?”

Bela straightened one side of the bedsheet, “aree kyun kya? Bhagwaan jhuth na bulaye, tu bhul gai kya ke teri shaadi hone wali hai. Kitna kuch kharidna baki hai. Aaj shukravaar hai na to Sindhi market me achche dar pe saaree milegi. Kamsekam 10 se 20 pratishat choot chalti hai na har shukravaar ko wahan.”

“Ohh achcha”, Naina nodded. She immediately recalled of how Sameer had wanted to come with her on all the shopping trips. Bela left the room asking her to come out quickly for breakfast, while Naina stood wondering how to tell Chachiji about Sameer’s wish. She tied her hair and went to the kitchen to help Chachiji, who was telling Chachaji about her plans for shopping.

Chachaji agreed and gave some money for the shopping. When Preeti and Chachaji left for work, Naina took the empty dishes back to kitchen, “Umm… Chachiji, aaj market me Taiji bhi aayegi kya?”

Bela huffed, “bhagwan jhuth na bulaye beta, teri Taiji ko aaj tak koi rok saka hai jo ab main roku. Unko to hawa sunghke hi samajh aa gaya hoga ke aaj hum bahar jaane ki soch rahe hai.”

“Hmmm”, Naina agreed, “aur humne bataya nahi to shaam tak Panipat ka yudh chid jayega ghar me.”

“Wahi to”, Bela wiped her hands, “par tu aaj aise sawaal kyun puch rahi hai?”

Naina blushed, “woh darasal Sameer ne mujhse kaha tha ke woh shaadi ki khariddaari me mere saath shamil hona chahta hai. Pichli baar Mummy ke saath gai thi tab woh nahi aa paaye the na.”

Bela thought for a moment, then voiced slowly, “maine dekha tu Vishakhaji ko Mummy bulane lagi hai uss din se.”

Naina nodded, “haan. Uss din saree ki dukan me unhone mujhse pucha ke shaadi ke baad bhi main unko aunty hi pukarungi kya”, she sighed, “mujhe bahot darr lag raha tha, lekin unhone himmat di. Ab tak thoda sa ajeeb lagta hai kisiko mummy bulana.”

Bela cupped her cheek, “mujhe khushi hai ke tere sasural wale tujhse itna pyaar karte hai. Vishakhaji sirf tujhe beti kehti hi nai, maanti bhi hai. Pata nahi teri shaadi ke baad teri yeh maa yahan kaise rahegi, bahot yaad aayegi teri.”

Naina blinked back tears, and hugged chachiji, “main isi sheher me to hun. Roz aa jaaya karungi.”

Bela laughed, “Sameer ko dekha hai thik se kabhi? Uska bas chale to woh aaj hi tujhe le jaaye yahan se aur kabhi wapas naa aane de.”

Naina blushed furiously, she knew Chachiji was right. Bela laughed harder at the sight, then sobered, “hmmm… to damadji bhi shaadi ki kharidari dekhna chahte hai. Par bhabhiji ko kaise manayenge?”

They both sat in the living room thinking how they could achieve such a feat without being struck by the lightning of Taiji’s anger. Suddenly Bela snapped her fingers, “idea! Tu na Sameer ko phone karke bata de hum kahan jaa rahe hai. Aur usko bol ke kuch der baad wahan aaye, aisa bahana banake ke achanak se aa gaya aur hum dikhe to dukan me aa gaya.”

Naina pondered over the idea, “hmm… kar to sakte hai. Par Sameer aise kis kaam se Sindhi market aayega?”

“Uffoo… woh sab tu Sameer pe chod de. Kuch na kuch soch hi lega”, Bela assured, “jab itne din iss ghar me rehke kisiko bhanak tak nai padne di apne iraado ki, to yeh bhi kar hi lega.”

Naina laughed, feeling glad at her Chachiji’s wit and support. She might call Vishakha as mummy, but her first mother would always be Bela Chachi, the one who had raised her to be the woman she was today.

As if on cue, the phone rang shrilly, and Naina smiled, instantly knowing that it was Sameer’s call. The smile on her face was enough for Chachiji to know who had called, and she got up saying that she would inform Taiji about the shopping trip.

Naina picked up the receiver, “Good Morning!”

At the other end Sameer smiled, “Good Morning Sweetheart… kya kar rahi ho?”

“Tumhare baare me hi baat kar rahe the”, she informed.

Perplexed he asked, “aaj firse koi nayi baat chali kya shaadi ko leke?”

She laughed, “haan… shopping. Chaloge?”

He grinned, immediately thinking how he could plan his day to accommodate this, “of course. Lekin kab aur kahan? Aur tum ghar pe kya bologi?”

Naina told him about Chachiji’s plan and he stood stunned for a moment before laughing aloud, “hahaa… wow, meri sasuma to bahot smart hai.”

She grinned, “toh…?”

“Toh kya?”, he asked.

She fidgeted with her dupatta, “toh tum aaoge na?”

Sameer deliberately took time to reply, “Umm…Hmm… Tum kya chahti ho Naina?”

“Jaise tumko pata nahi”, she murmured.

He grinned, “fir bhi sunna chahta hun. Bolona.”

She smiled at his demand, “main chahti hun ke tum bhi mere saath shopping pe chalo.”

Elated at his wish being fulfilled, he teased her, “soch lo… saree bhi fir main hi select karunga.”

She laughed, “hahaa… thike, par pehle apni pyaari Taiji to pata lena.”

“Done”, he laughed, “milta hun wahan pe. Aur suno, aaj apni woh green bandhej wala dress pehenna. Chudiyo ke saath, bilkul jaise mere birthday pe taiyar hui thi. Bye sweetheart”, he disconnected before she could object.

It was noon by the time they reached Sindhi market, and Taiji was grumbling about how careless the auto driver was. Naina paid off the auto, and then they walked into the narrow lanes. The market was a spectrum of colours, with stalls selling tie-died bandhej dupattas, handicraft items, cloth bags. Several large shops were selling kurtis and dress materials, and had headless mannequins hanging from a steel rod in the front. Every shop advertised of good quality and hefty discounts. They walked towards the end of the market where the saree shops were located, and entered one that was relatively empty.

The shopkeeper greeted them, asking them to sit on the cotton mattresses placed on the floor, and ordered two other men to show them sarees.

“Ekdum badhiya wali saree dikhana bhaiya, beti ki shaadi ke liye kharidi kar rahe hai”, Bela informed enthusiastically.

Taiji immediately took offense, “Oh bai! Bela… Aise duniya bhar me elaan nai karna hota ke shaadi ki kharidi kar rahe hai. Ab yeh sirf mehenge wale hi dikhayenge.”

“Aree bhabhiji, aap chinta mat kijiye. Hamare dukan me har tarah ki saree hai, aap khud pasand karna kaisi wali dekhni hai”, one man said pleasantly pulling out bundles of sarees.

They deftly opened each one exhibiting the colours, explaining about the material and design. There were bandhnis, patola, leheriya, panetar and a few other whose name Naina didn’t quite catch. Taiji rejected every piece selected by Naina and Chachiji, and then selected designs and colours as per her own choice. After most frustrating 30 minutes, Bela leaned towards Naina, “Sameer kahan reh gaya?”

She dejectedly shook her head, “pata nahi. Kaha to tha ke aa jayega. Shayad market ke andar samajh nai aa raha ho.” She wondered that how could Sameer find his way around a busy market like this, where he obviously hadn’t ever come. The place was so different from the Asopalav shop where she had gone with her mother-in-law.

“Bhagwaan jhuth na bulaye! Agar damadji jaldi nai aaye na to beta tujhe saari purane zamane wali sareeyan hi milegi apni shaadi me”, Bela whispered eyeing the gaudy, horrible sarees her bhabhiji had selected.

Naina looked on sadly at the sarees selected by her Taiji. They were indeed old fashioned, weird coloured, and none of them was as per her choice. Taiji wasn’t even listening to the salesmen who repeatedly kept hinting that the selected sarees wouldn’t suit a new bride. She sighed heavily, and then held her breath turning towards the shop entrance, looking with expectant eyes, and within the next couple of seconds, Sameer appeared. He grinned on seeing Naina, understanding that she had already sensed him.

Naina nudged chachiji, who looked around and immediately exclaimed, “aree Sameer beta, tum aa gaye!”

His eyes widened, and so did Naina’s. Bela realized her mistake, and corrected, “m..mera matlab… tum yahan kaise beta?”

Taiji was staring suspiciously at Naina, who tried to maintain an innocent face. Sameer flashed his most charming grin at Taiji, “Namaste Taiji, chachiji… main to yahan apne kaam se aaya tha, aur guzarte waqt aap log dikh gaye to andar aa gaya.”

“Neva! Ab Sameer Maheshwari ko bhala Sindhi market me kya kaam aa gaya?”,  Taiji enquired still suspicious.

Sameer sat beside Naina on the mattress without the slightest hesitation, “hamari company bandhej aur rajasthani prints ka kaam bhi shuru kar rahi hai. To main yahan ek dealer se milne aaya tha, uski dukaan peeche wali gali me hai.”

After a moment, Taiji seemed convinced and nodded. He looked at the sarees, “aap log yahan kya kar rahe hai?”

Bela jumped in to explain, “oho… subah Naina bhi yahi puch rahi thi ke kharidi kyun karni hai. Tum dono bhul gaye kya ke tumhari shaadi hone wali hai. Sareeyan kharidni padegi na Naina ke liye.”

He grinned, “oh achcha. Toh fir achcha hi hua na ke main aa gaya.”

“Oh bai! woh kyun bholuram?”, Taiji asked filtering through the brightest colours and instead choosing a murky brown Patola.

Sameer frowned at the saree in Taiji’s hand, and was appalled on seeing the small pile of selected sarees at one corner, each one more terrible than the other. He looked at Naina curiously, she shrugged helplessly and so did Chachiji. He understood that they weren’t being given an option or a say in choosing sarees.

He thought for a moment, then said, “woh Taiji, Naina ke liye pasand kar rahe hai to mera bhi to haq banta hai na dekhne ka. Tauji aur Chachaji ne kaha tha ke mujhe har ek taiyariyo me shaamil karenge.”

Taiji adjusted her pallu, “neva! Bholuram tumhe thodi na saree ki samajh hai. Yeh kaam auroto ka hai.”

He smiled, “saree to nahi lekin kapde ki samajh hai. Aur Naina ki pasand bhi pata hai”, he looked at one of the men, “bhaiya woh laal aur hara bandhni dikhana, gotapatti border wala.”

The man immediately obeyed, opening up the saree Sameer had pointed at, and held it out. Sameer took the end in his hand, checking the intricate border, and then looked at Naina, “haan yeh suit karega tumpe.”

Naina smiled, wondering about Taiji’s outburst and how Sameer would handle it. But as always he was two steps ahead in his thinking. He turned to the man, and asked him to open another saree, and orange and blue cotton silk. He held that one out to Taiji, again flashing a big charming smile, “yeh aap pe bahot achcha lagega Taiji. Hamare reception me aap yahi wali saree pehenna.”

Naina and Chachiji looked at each other, trying to control their giggles. Sameer had hit the bullseye with his action. Taiji loved orange colour, and she loved being told how lovely a saree would look on her, Sameer had pulled off a masterstroke. It didn’t even take Taiji one minute to melt completely and eagerly accept Sameer’s suggestions in choosing sarees. Sameer skilfully made sure that Naina and Chachiji slowly got involved in the selection and approval process.

Sameer spotted an orange and pink shaded gharchola saree with large checked pattern in border and pallu, and immediately asked for it, saying it was perfect for Naina. The salesmen were only too happy to oblige to his demands, and they even managed to pull off a sale of panetar saree – a white and maroon traditional saree for gujarati brides. When Taiji argued that they were not Gujaratis, Sameer calmly replied that they were staying in Gujarat, that was enough, besides the saree he had chosen wasn’t completely typical wedding wear, so Naina would be able to wear it later on. Finally, one of the salesmen pulled out a sea green and blue saree with threadbare pallu, and announced, “yeh wala dekho sahab, maheshwari cotton-silk saree hai, bilkul badhiya.”

Taiji exclaimed, “Oh bai! tumhare karkhane me saree bhi banti hai?”

Sameer chuckled, “nahi Taiji. Maheshwari ek tarah ki bunai aur silai ka naam hai, jo Madhya Pradesh ke Maheshwar gaanv me banaya jaata hai. Inn sareeyon me Madhya Padesh ke kille aur mahal se inspiration leke designs banate hai.”

Bela frowned, “ins…inas kya tha who?”

Naina smiled, “inspiration… matlab prerna.”

The saree was really beautiful, the colour combination unique, Naina fondly ran her fingers along the soft fabric. Taiji understood Naina’s interest, but before she could deny, Sameer spoke up, “pack kar dena yeh bhi, lekin alag se, baaki sareeyon ke saath nahin.”

“Beta, alag kyun?”, Chachiji enquired.

He looked over at Naina who seemed surprised, “ab tak mummy ne aur aap logo ne Naina ke liye saree kharide hai, maine nahi… to socha shuruat aaj se hi kar lu. Aur akhir kaar, saree ka naam bhi to Maheshwari saree tha, to Mrs. Maheshwari ke liye sahi rahega.”

Naina blushed, Chachiji smiled, and Taiji frowned at the open display of affection. As the shopkeeper started writing the bill, Taiji and Chachiji were greeted to another side of Sameer, where he openly bargained. Naina was the only one who stood smiling, because she had often seen him bargain whenever they would go for shopping in Law Garden, and she knew the shopkeeper didn’t stand a chance. The 15% discount increased to 20% along with a free saree, and the poor shopkeeper gave up in front of mountain like determination of Sameer, and miserably asked which one they would like free. And again, like a master player, he selected Taiji’s saree to be the free one, which made Taiji incredibly happy.

The shopkeeper accepted the money from Chachiji, and asked, “aapke hone wale damad sareeyon ka dhanda karte hai kya? Badi jaankaari hai unko.”

Bela smiled, “nahi nahi bhaisaab. Inka to kapdo ka bada udyog hai. Maheshwari Indujtries ke maalik hai yeh.”

And while the astonished shopkeeper and salesmen kept staring at Sameer, he didn’t even pay the slightest attention to the amazed gazes and was busy admiring Naina who had dressed up exactly as he had asked her to. He wanted to pull her somewhere and thoroughly kiss her just as he had wanted to on his birthday. He had thought he drooled over Naina when she wore pink, had thought he kept on admiring her when she wore red, but then he had discovered whatever colour she wore, he was just as fascinated by her. Well, all colour except brown. The complete lie he had spoken to Naina in school about her looking good in brown, was just that, a lie. He never liked seeing her wearing brown.

“Yahin paas me pani-puri milta hai achcha wala, khane chale?”, he proposed.

Naina looked at her family, “par kaise?”

She need not have worried. Sameer easily convinced Taiji who was already happy with the hefty discount and free saree. At the pani-puri stall, he waited for an opportunity, and when Taiji and Chachiji were busy, he grabbed Naina’s hand and ate the pani-puri she was holding. She smiled at his antics, wanting to spend some more time with him. Sameer dropped them back home, and while he was leaving Naina asked him to drive safe, and then added in a soft tone laced with longing, “tumse milna hai.” Surprised at her demand, but unable to do anything about it at that time, he mumbled, “jaldi hi karta hun kuch”, and then left for his office again.

Sameer reached home late that night, as he had spent most of the afternoon in shopping, and then finished his pending work. When he reached his room, he saw a couple of bags kept on his bed and frowned. Ramdhari came in to give him water and he enquired about the bags.

“Sahab, woh ek aadmi aaya tha. Kaha Asopalav se hai, kuch sareeya deke gaya hai”, Ramdhari informed.

Sameer understood that the bags contained the sarees his mother had bought for Naina. He chuckled, “lagta hai aaj pure din main sareeyo se hi ghira rahunga.”

He quickly ate dinner, and then took a shower to relax. Checking the time, he thought of calling Naina, but before that he picked up the bags intending to keep them in the wardrobe. As he placed them on the shelf, one bag toppled over and he bent to pick it up. His gaze fell on the bright red fabric and curiosity took the better of him. He pulled it out, and instantly he shuddered, his hands starting to shake. It was Naina’s red sleeveless blouse, the one his mother had told him about. He held up the blouse, staring open mouthed at the low cut back, the flimsy string tassel with golden beads at the end. With a jolt, he realized that the cut of the blouse was so low that it had to be lined, eliminating the need of wearing a bra. He gulped immediately imagining Naina wearing that blouse, while he kissed her bare back and his fingers untied the tassel, slowly lowering the straps from her shoulder. Oh God. Sweat beaded on his forehead, heat rushing through his gut, his brain buzzing with hunger.

Hunger to see her. Hunger to touch her. Hunger to taste her. Hunger to love her.

He looked at the other bags, trembling, wondering what other treasures they held. Should he check? No, no he shouldn’t. There are still two months for them to get married. How would he control himself? But, after this one blouse how can he not see the others? His mother had said that Naina had selected all the designs, and complimented her fashion sense. He kept the red blouse back in the bag, and hurriedly checked inside, pulling out another one. This one was beige gold colour, with quarter length sleeves, but the material of sleeves was all transparent net, even the back though not low cut had a transparent net patch in teardrop shape. He checked the other bags, and his knees felt weak on finding a deep blue velvet blouse with short sleeves, the back design a big open circle tied at the top with a string. There were a couple of others too, but he just stuffed everything inside not having the courage to look through. The images in his mind were already causing mini explosions in his body, he was strung tight, and he felt as if there wasn’t enough air in the whole world to get his breathing back to normal. His heart was hammering so hard that he worried it might break through his ribcage. He strode to the window, throwing it open and drawing huge gulps of cold wintry air.

He was so lost in his fantasies of the multiple ways he would undo the blouses and remove them from her body that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone rang. For the first time in his life, he debated whether to pick it up or not, he wasn’t in any state to have romantic conversations. He was sure he would explode even if Naina gave him a flying kiss right now. But then he remembered that she would worry about him if he doesn’t talk. Exhaling hard through his mouth, he went and picked up the receiver, and immediately her voice washed over him, “Sameer.”

How does she do that? How could she speak his name in a way that’s sweet and sensuous at the same time? Would she take his name when he made love to her? How would it sound then? Oh, he would love to find out that. Right now.

“Haan”, he whispered hoarsely.

Naina frowned at his voice, “tum thik to ho na?”

He swallowed, trying to keep his tone normal, “haan, bas thoda thak gaya hun. Aaj der ho gai na office me.”

She laughed, “oh achcha. Taiji to ghar pe aake bhi tumhari tareefo ke pool bandh rahi thi. Extra discount aur free saree kaam kar gaya.”

He chuckled, still struggling to be normal. His eyes fell on the clock, “aaj iss waqt? Laila-majnu ne chutti li hai kya baat karne se?”

“Hahaa… Nahi nahi. Preeti aaj apne parlour wali ek saheli ke ghar ruki hai. Pyjama party”, she informed.

His brain immediately went into overdrive mode, “iska matlab tum akeli ho kamre me?”

She blushed at his tone and words, “h…haan.”

Wow. Such an opportunity. And that too on the day he was yearning for her so badly. Should he take it? Should he tell her that he was coming to meet her? No, that won’t be the proper thing to do. She is alone, but only in her room. Her family was still in the house. He can’t go there and put her in a dilemma.

At the other end, Naina waited, her breath stuck. She could sense, almost hear the wheels turning in his head. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he planning to come over? Could he? Did she want him to?

“Umm… Naina. Main bahot thak gaya hun, to so jaunga ab. Tum bhi so jao”, he sighed, deciding to stay right where he was. He can have as many fantasies as he wanted to. But, he couldn’t go there like this in the middle of the night. If something happened, then Naina would be in trouble.

She was disappointed on hearing his reply, though she had somewhere known that he won’t come. He would worry about her, about her family being here. He would think about the consequences if they were caught. She too sighed, a little louder than usual, “thike. Good Night Sameer.”

“Good Night Sweetheart”, he wished her half-heartedly, then disconnected, wondering why he suddenly felt so empty. Didn’t he do the right thing? He did. So, why did he feel as if he was depriving himself and Naina as well?

He paced the bedroom, sleep far from his eyes, though he was truly tired. He wondered if he should take another shower, a cold one perhaps. He leaned against the pillar in his room, and squeezed his eyes shut. Shower wouldn’t help. He needed Naina. He knew he can’t make love to her, not yet, not until they were married. But, he needed to be with her. Even just having her in his arms calmed him down, gave him something to hold on to, helped him to firmly maintain his control. All these years, he had pulled back, thought of right and wrong, and stayed away from her. And at the end of all of it, Naina had dealt him a slap, asking him if he would have stepped aside in case her family hadn’t agreed for their wedding, searing him with her question whether he would have married someone else in case something happened to her. That had snapped him. The gut wrenching realization that there was no way he would have stayed away from her. He would have worked on convincing her family for years if need be, but he wouldn’t have let her be married to someone else. He just couldn’t bear it. Hell, he now felt he could have even agreed to elope with her. And just the slightest thought of something happening to her horrified him, he couldn’t survive without her. His fear, his realization, his need had overpowered him within a second. He had simply grabbed her and kissed her, claiming her urgently, marking her possessively. She was his. Always and forever.

So why was he holding back today? He wanted to meet her. Even she wanted to meet him. Hadn’t she said it explicitly? Tumse milna hai. The demand was nowhere innocent. It was bold and sensuous. This wasn’t the Naina who was naive and had boundaries he couldn’t cross. This was the Naina who shattered her own boundaries and snapped his control. He would go to her. Now.

Grinning to himself, he changed into jeans, a simple plain coral shirt and pulled on his black leather jacket. Ditching his car, he grabbed his bike keys, bike was easy to hide, car needed to be parked in plain view. He thought for a moment, debating if he should call her and let her know, but then he didn’t, thinking that phone ringing so late at night could awaken her family.

Naina was frustrated, even though she had known that even in his dreams he wouldn’t put her in jeopardy, but she still couldn’t justify his nobility. She had wanted him to say that he was coming to her. It might have frightened her for a moment, but still she wanted him here. She scribbled furiously in her journal, transferring all her irritation onto the page, words forming a story. It wasn’t helping. She stood up, thinking she would go sit in the balcony for some time, maybe the cold would calm her down. She pushed back the chair, turned, and heard a loud ripping sound. Her dress had caught in the desk drawer and ripped up the seams, widening the slit. Sighing she went to the wardrobe and pulled out her white chikan kurta, and went back near the desk to change.

Sameer parked the bike two lanes away from her home, then quickly walked back, sneaking into her society. He stood beneath her balcony, eyes narrowed, judging the distance. He had it all planned, since several years. In college, sometimes when it would be too much to stay away from her, he would come over at night and stand on the road outside. Naina would be in her balcony, and they would spend hours looking at each other. There would be no need for words, no need to touch, just the sight of her made him happy. That didn’t mean his mind hadn’t wandered. He had scanned every section of her building, planning for secret adventures, dreaming of a future when he could come over to meet her like his at night and need not stand so far. Today he put the knowledge and years of planning to use, as he swung himself up the pipe beside her balcony. Feeling quite like a cat burglar, he looked around to confirm that the watchman was nowhere in sight, before finding the niches and holds, and using them as a leverage to slowly lift himself up and up. He swung a leg over the parapet, and carefully shifted his weight, getting a proper hold, and eased himself over, rolling with a slight thud onto the floor.

Drawing in quick breath, he stood up, brushing his clothes, looked into the room and froze. The small desk lamp illuminated her surroundings partially, and Naina had her back turned to him – a smooth, shiny, bare back. He forgot to breathe as his eyes skimmed down the glowing skin, his hands fisted, and unknown to himself he started to move towards her. Even as he watched, Naina pulled on a kurta, covering herself, but the open zip offered enough view to keep his eyes glued.

Naina reached behind to get a hold of her zip, when suddenly she stilled. Her eyes widened, heart thudded and she whirled around, mouth falling open at the sight of Sameer advancing towards her. Oh my God. Was she dreaming? How could he be here? He had said he wasn’t coming. She closed her eyes. It had to be a dream, her imagination. Only it wasn’t. When she opened her eyes again, Sameer was still there, and he was closer than before.

She opened her mouth to say something, but his hand came up covering her lips, and he shook his head signalling her not to make a sound. His eyes darted towards the door making sure it was locked, before he wrapped his other hand around her waist, pulling her firmly to him. He rubbed his thumb over her quivering lips, making her breathe faster, her eyes glazed as she looked up at him. The hand around her waist shifted, dipping inside the open zipper, his fingers skimmed her flesh, burning her.

“Tum chahti thi na ke main aau?”, he whispered.

She took a moment, trembling, before sinking in his arms, her head on his chest and she nodded. If she had said no, if she had asked him to leave he would have. Difficult to do. But he would have. However, she hadn’t, instead she had nodded her approval. Sighing with relief he explored the smooth skin that had allured him, he reached a spot just above her hipbone, tracing a silvery line that he had seen earlier. A scar. “Yeh kaise hua?”, he asked.

She clutched onto his jacket, breathing in the leather, “bachpan me cycle se gir gai thi.”

He wanted to turn her, kiss her bare back, but he knew that if he did that, if he got a taste of his fantasies, then there was nothing that could stop him. And again, just like last time, this wasn’t the time, this wasn’t the place. But he could touch, and he did, exploring every inch with his hand. When he reached up to the strip of her bra, he took a moment, fingers tracing the fabric – cotton, not lace like other day. So, his woman had different sets, interesting. He squinted his eyes, breathing hard, as he felt the contraption, learning the intricate clasps, registering the knowledge for future reference.

Naina felt as if she would melt in a puddle. Just this morning she had been thinking of how Sameer would touch her or kiss her, and here he was, exploring her body with his fingers. When he reached her bra, she gasped, wondering what was in store for her, but he didn’t unhook it, instead just kept tracing the fabric as if seeking to learn without seeing. Her own hands wandered over his back, which much to her irritation, was covered in layers of clothes.

“Jacket”, she mumbled tugging at the leather.

He was still so lost in touching her that he didn’t register what she said, “huh.”

She pulled back, causing his brows to furrow in annoyance, “jacket…”, she gestured towards his body.

His mouth curved in a lopsided smirk, as he understood what she was demanding. With quick jerky movements, he got rid of the jacket, letting it drop to the floor. He looped an arm around her, pulling her back to him, and his mouth closed over hers. She couldn’t help it. She kissed him back. She put a hand on his bristly jaw, letting herself savour the taste of him. The soft warm lips, the hard pressure, the surge of excitement in her body, the toe-curling sensations running down her spine. This was different. He didn’t kiss her with an urgency, with demand. He was kissing her as if he had all the time in the world, and he wasn’t going to let the hands of the clock move until he was done.

His hand at her back, stopped its exploration. Very gently, he stroked one finger down her spine, to the end of her zip, and then retraced the caress up her back.

He lifted his mouth from hers, “I love you Naina. Marry me.”

She drew back, looking up at him confused, “huh… kya?”

He kissed her forehead, “main puch raha hun, mujhse shaadi karogi?”

“Par… hamari shaadi to ho hi rahi hai na”, she whispered back still puzzled.

His lips skimmed her cheeks, “hmm… par maine tumko propose hi nahi kiya kabhi.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting to kiss his jaw, “zarurat nahi hai”

“Mujhe jawaab chahiye”, he demanded.

She tilted her head, “to fir thik se propose karna padega. Ghutno ke bal bethke, gulab aur anguthi ke saath.”

He looked at her incredulously, surprised at her demand, and then realized what she was doing on seeing the mischievous glitter in her eyes. “Abhi dikhata hun tumhe”, he murmured and lifted her in his arms, marching towards the bed.

Unlike last time, she didn’t stare at him in shock, instead held on to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, nipping at his skin. He placed her on the bed, covering her body with his, shackling her wrists over her head, and captured her mouth in a deep feral kiss, that had her arching beneath him. She gasped into his mouth, squirming beneath him, trying to free her hands. He made a low rough sound when her breasts rubbed against his chest, and let go of her wrists, breaking the kiss, panting for breath. He looked down at her, as she wrapped her hands around him, finding the hem of his shirt and dipping in to touch his back. He shuddered, hovering over her, his control almost worn-out on seeing that her kurta had shifted exposing one slender shoulder. He drew in a breath, gritting his teeth, “jawab do”, he muttered, eyes gleaming with desire.

Incredibly enough, she smiled, lifting to kiss his chest where his shirt was open at the top, her tongue darting out to lick and taste. “Sameer”, she whispered in that sweet sensuous tone that alerted every cell in his body, “pehle wapas kiss karo, fir sochungi.”

He stared at her. God. What was she doing? Did she even know how stretched thin his control was? Did she know what could happen if he snapped? Wasn’t she scared at all that her family was just out there, on the other side of the locked door? Did she know her touch was shorting the fuses in his brain? He should stop. He should leave.

His poor attempt at regaining control didn’t please her. She threaded her fingers in his hair, and deftly pulled him down, initiating the kiss. He trembled, as she kissed him softly, slowly, then with increasing demand. Helplessly he opened his mouth to her probing; his senses swimming as he felt the velvety strokes of her tongue. A temptress. The word flashed across his brain, before she deepened the kiss, demanding his response, and he surrendered.

In a flash of a second, he snatched the control of the kiss from her, and then all she could do was cling to him. He gripped her hip with one hand, his fingers tightening, then relaxing and gently massaging, before sliding up her side, under her kurta. Almost before she knew it, his big warm hand closed over her breast. She felt a moment of anxiety, but then forgot everything when he made a low humming sound at the back of his throat, as his fingers cupped and rubbed, learning the shape and size. His palm burned even through the fabric of her bra, and she struggled to control the moan that threatened to erupt. He abandoned her lips, mouth sliding hot and open over her throat, as his other hand tugged the kurta down her shoulders, baring more flesh for his hungry mouth. He reached the spot where he had marked her before, and licked it, letting her know that he remembered.

The ache inside her body escalated to unbearable levels, and she tried to cross her legs as the slow beat of pleasure began to pound through her veins. Her own hands explored frantically, and she had this inexplicable urge of touching his chest, find out the answers to her own questions. Through the haze of arousal, Sameer felt the movements of her legs and realized that they had ventured almost too far. For a tantalizing moment, he wanted to give in, forget his control, his promise, the place, the time. He wanted, simply wanted, everything that she was willing to give him. It boggled his mind that she wasn’t stopping him at all. If anything, she was urging him on with the little sounds she was making, and her non-stop exploring hands. He lifted his mouth from her body, and watched her. The bare gleaming shoulders, lips swollen and parted, flushed skin, dark hair spread over the pink pillow. She half-opened her eyes, looking at him, waiting for him. His hand still cupped her breast, thumb rubbing over the hardened nub, and she let out a whimper that he captured in his mouth, tasting her lips again.

Finally, winning over the internal battle of self-control, he rolled to his side taking her with him. He straightened her kurta, and then slowly slid up the zipper, locking up the paradise that he had unexpectedly landed upon. He kissed her forehead, breathing in her shampoo, holding her in his arms until their heartbeats calmed down. Minutes later, he heard her whisper against his chest, “haan”, and he chuckled as he finally got an answer to his proposal

He never realized when they dozed off, and was surprised when he opened his eyes to see that it was 4am. He had to leave. He woke up Naina, who was curled up in his arms, fighting the elemental urge to kiss her again.

“Subah hone wali hai. Jaana padega” , he whispered and kissed her softly unable to resist her sleepy smile.

He got up and picked his jacket from the floor, pulling it on, while she wrapped herself in the knitted shawl that he had gifted her. She came out to the balcony with him, looked with a worried expression as he swung himself to the pipe again. Before starting to slide down, he looked at her, “waise kal bina bataye aaya to kaafi achcha nazaara mil gaya dekhne ko”, and winked flirtatiously.

Sameer wanted to tease her, but unfortunately, he had forgotten his own deduction of Naina being a temptress. Her eyes widened for a second, and then her lips curved in that sensual smile that fused his senses, “agli baar thode nazaare mujhe bhi dekhne dena. Sirf do buttons se kaam nai chalega”, she winked back at him, and blew him a kiss.

His jaw dropped, eyes widened, and he slid down the pipe non-stop, landing with a thud on the cold ground. Naina looked down in worry, hoping he was okay, her hands clutching the parapet. Sameer stood up quickly, and signalled he was fine, looking up at her, her words ringing in his ears. She smiled, and he grinned, blowing her a kiss, and sauntered back to his bike, wondering how to fulfil his temptress’s next demand.