43. Zinneerah

43

Zinneerah

Z inneerah lays with her head on my lap while I work my fingers through her thick, silky hair. She’s so unaffected by the gore and guts split opened on the screen, chuckling and pointing out the cheap VFX.

Meanwhile, I’m about to vomit the salmon I had hours ago.

She slaps my knee. “This is my favorite scene.” The villain breaks the skull of the hero’s best friend between a refrigerator door, then throws his body inside an industrial sized beef grinder. “He’s going to eat it.”

On second thought, I am going to throw-up. “I can’t watch this anymore.”

“What?” She pauses the movie and looks up. “Why? You said you liked horror movies.”

“I don’t,” I say, glimpsing at the paused scene of the man’s flesh being minced out. “I’m sorry I lied.”

“The DVDs . . .”

“I bought them to make you feel more at home.”

Zinneerah raises her head from my lap. She sighs into a smile, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. “You don’t have tolie to impress me. It’s adorable that our choices are different.” She returns to the home screen. “Let’s watch a documentary.”

“Are you sure?”

“You need a change in scenery.”

“Okay!” I take the remote from her hands and switch to YouTube. She blinks at my sudden change in mood, then starts chuckling. “There’s this documentary on whales that I used to watch as a child with Ramishah. Would you like to watch it with me?”

Zinneerah nods eagerly, sliding her arm around my neck and resting her head on my shoulders. I pull her legs onto my lap, looping my arm around her waist and giving her a kiss on the forehead before hitting play. “Why do you like whales so much?”

The narrator’s deep, monotone voice starts explaining migration patterns, and I gesture at the screen. “That. Right there. Majestic, inspiring creatures.”

She snorts. “Big, sad creatures that eat krill by the bucketload and look like they’d sink a ship by accident.”

“That’s a feature, not a flaw.”

“So, your favorite animal is basically the ocean’s clumsiest vacuum cleaner?”

I glance at her. “And your favorite animal is what? A squirrel, maybe?”

“No. Penguins.” She grins, leaning back against me.

“Penguins?” I scoff. “Whales rule the ocean. They can hold their breath for an hour, travel thousands of miles without GPS, and some of them can communicate across entire oceans. Meanwhile, penguins waddle ten feet and fall over.”

“Majestic, itty-bitty creatures, migrating thousands of miles,” she parrots, biting back a laugh. “Very inspiring.”

“Penguins are literally nature’s slapstick comedy act,” I counter. “They’re cartoon birds come to life. Hello, Penguins of Madagascar ?”

“First of all, don’t bring my sons Skipper, Kowalski, Private, and Rico into this,” she snaps, jabbing her finger in my chest. “Secondly, penguins mate for life. Isn’t that sweet?” Her voice turns sugary in that fake way she knows drives me nuts. “Maybe that’s why I like them.”

“They’re fine,” I say begrudgingly. “But they’re no whales.”

“Whales aren’t sexy.”

“Whales don’t need to be sexy, Zinn—” I stop because suddenly, she’s pressing her lips against my cheek. Not a quick peck, either. One of those slow, wet kisses that drag across my skin.

“That’s not fair,” I say, but my voice cracks halfway.

Another kiss, right under my jaw this time. Her hand slips behind my neck, pulling me closer.

“Zinneerah.”

“Hmm?” She hums, pretending to be innocent while her lips trail to the side of my throat.

“I’m trying to explain the majesty of whales,” I protest weakly, tilting my head because, let’s be honest, I’m not trying that hard to stop her.

“And I’m trying to explain the majesty of this,” she murmurs, her teeth grazing my skin.

“I had—” I swallow hard. “I had a whole thing about blue whales and echolocation—”

“Tell me about it later,” she says, softly nipping the flesh around my neck.

“You don’t even care about whales.”

“Oh, I care.” She presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Just not about whales.”

“Darling . . .” I’m holding onto some thread of sanity here, but it’s slipping fast. “You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” she purrs, that wicked grin of hers beginning on her maroon-painted lips. She knows exactly what she’s doing, the little menace. She doesn’t even care that I’m trying to make a point, that my nerd brain is still halfway thinking about baleen and migration. “Can’t just kiss you?” She gets up on her knees and straddles my lap, blocking my view of the screen. “Can’t touch you?” She snatches my glasses, sliding them on with a curious tilt of her head, only to rip them off seconds later. “Damn, boy. How are you not walking into walls?”

“Okay, wow,” I say, exhaling like I’ve just run a marathon. “I didn’t realize this was a coordinated attack. Was this premeditated, or—”

“Premeditated,” she says without hesitation, tilting her head to meet my eyes. There’s a gleam in hers that tells me I’m done for. “I saw my opportunity when you said the word krill.”

“That’s absurd. No one gets turned on by krill.”

“No one else has you.” She lowers her head down and kisses me. Fully. Decisively. Ravishingly.

And, yeah, I’ve got no argument. None.

The narrator on TV is still droning on about humpback calls, but I don’t even hear it anymore. All I know is my wife.

My hands slip to her waist, pulling her closer, anchoring her right where she belongs—on top of me, stealing all my thoughts and making damn sure there’s no room left for migration patterns.

Her fingers slide into my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan against her mouth, and the sound must do something to her because she deepens the kiss, her nails dragging along the back of my neck. It’s not gentle. It’s not slow. It’s her. All bite, and no breathing room.

Her ridiculous guitar ringtone explodes from the nightstand.

“Don’t,” she says, catching my hand as I reach for it to end the call, but the contact name stops me short.

“It’s Shahzad,” I say.

“My brother’s call holds no importance to me right now.” She kisses me, her giggle muffled against my mouth.

But the phone keeps ringing.

“Let it end,” she whispers.

“If I let it end, he’ll end me.”

“Raees.”

“Zinneerah,” I say, laughing breathlessly. “Shahzad’s not going to stop.”

Miraculously, the call ends.

“See?” She grins, sliding down my sweatpants, and sliding her hand inside. “Problem . . . solved.”

It rings again.

I groan for many reasons, tossing my head back. “For fuck’s sake. Just take the call, my love. It’ll be quick.”

“Quick?” she repeats, offended. “Quick? Do you even know my brother?”

“Yes, I do. And I know if you don’t pick up his call, he’ll take a flight here to talk to you.”

She gives me an adorable pout that she probably thinks makes her look pissed off. “Fine.” She snatches it, swiping to answer. Putting it on speaker, she tosses it back onto the nightstand. “What?”

“Wow,” Shahzad says flatly. “A ‘hello’ right off the bat. I’m touched.”

“Hi. Yes. Hello. What do you want?” She gets off my lap, and I almost reach out to pull her back.

“You don’t sound busy.”

“Oh, I am busy.” Zinneerah removes her underwear, suddenly, and I nearly choke. She crawls back onto my lap, kissing down the curve of my neck. “Pull it out,” she whispers in my ear.

I’m in heaven.

“How’s the café renovations?” Shahzad asks, completely oblivious.

“There aren’t any renovations yet,” she snaps, stifling a moan as I help her sink down on my cock. “Raees—only bought it three days ago.”

I shudder as she nips my earlobe. “Stop.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Shahzad says.

“Start. It’s starting.” Zinneerah slams her hand over my mouth, glaring as I smile against her palm. “Still early days. Why are you asking?”

“I’d like to speak to him.”

“Why?”

“Just give him the phone. I know he’s home—I have his location.”

“He has my location?” I whisper, confused but oddly charmed.

She stops rolling her hips. “What the hell? Why do you have his location?”

“I have my ways, Zinneerah,” Shahzad says. “It’s for safety. I care about him, maybe five percent less than I care about you.”

Okay, I just want to end this conversation now. “Hello?”

“That was fast,” Shahzad says monotonously.

“Zinneerah said you wanted to speak—”

“Thank you,” he cuts in.

I glance at her, and she shrugs, equally confused, then continues casting her magic like I’m not speaking with her brother at all. “F-For what?”

“For taking care of my sister. I didn’t say it after the dawat. I was still a little shaken up from your asshole cousin.”

“Fair enough,” I manage, pressing my lips together as the sensation builds up inside me.

“But I’m saying it now. Thank you, Raees. You’ve made her happier than I’ve seen in years. And that’s all that matters to me.”

Zinneerah looks at me, a small smile pulling at her lips. I kiss her forehead because I don’t know what else to do with all the love crammed into my chest.

“You don’t need to thank me for doing what’s my right,” I say, halting her movements for a second. “But I appreciate the sentiment. And I’m thankful to you as well, for taking care of her when I couldn’t.”

Shahzad clears his throat. “Yeah, well. It was my right as her brother.”

I’m still buried inside her, and her breath hitches as I shift slightly, adjusting her hips. The woman takes it as a green sign to start moving quickly.

Her grin widens as I shoot her a warning look to slow down. Thankfully, she does, and just starts kissing my neck. “We’ve cleaned out the guest—guest room for you and Nyla.”

“No need,” he says. “We’re staying at Azeer and Alina’s. Apparently, they’re fighting again, and Nyla’s forcing me to mediate.”

“She did write, ‘Never piss off a pregnant lady,’ in our group chat,” Zinneerah says, amused.

“Yeah, well, Alina’s planning to move to a townhouse, and Azeer’s refusing to leave the penthouse. So, that’s that.”

“Call me if you need reinforcements,” I offer. “And let me know if you change your mind about staying here. Also, dinner after the concert?”

“Normally I’d say, ‘Don’t push your luck,’ but . . . I like you now. So, yeah. Dinner sounds great.”

How sweet of him.

“Anything else?” Zinneerah asks, clearly ready to end this.

“Yeah,” Shahzad drawls. “Exactly why is Raees in the same room as you—”

“Goodnight.” She ends the call with a smack of the screen and tosses the phone onto the coffee table.

“You’re horrible,” I laugh out.

Zinneerah grabs my face. “Just fuck me, Raees.”

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