Chapter 11
11
“ W hy are you here?” Armaan asked.
Navya looked at his face, finally forcing her eyes to stop fixating on his bare torso and those sharp abs, and that vee that went down into his shorts, and… Her eyes latched on the mirror beyond him and at the tattoo on his back. It was an anchor that went from his upper back down his spine. She remembered it from all those years ago when he’d fought with her brother in the boxing ring. He’d been bare-chested then too. Curiosity overwhelmed her. She wanted to learn what the significance of that tattoo was and why he had chosen it. She wanted to trace it with her hands and her mouth. She wanted to trace all of him with her tongue and teeth. She wet her lips. Her gaze skimmed lower and lower…
“My face is up here,” Armaan said, sounding irritated.
Fuck, she’d been ogling him again. She focused on his face and the angry expression on it. He looked mad. Well, tough luck. She was mad enough as it was. She was mad that she wasn’t able to resist him. She was mad that despite all the red flags she’d associated with him, she was here, standing in front of him, wanting a taste of his special brand of poison.
When she continued to seethe in silence, he said, “You told me last night over a damn text that you wanted me out of your life. You didn’t even have the decency to make a call and say it to me directly. And now, you’re here, pretending all is fine, when it isn’t. So, I’m going to ask you again, why are you here?”
His bare chest was distracting as hell, and her reaction to him was annoying her even more.
“Wear a damn shirt first,” she ordered.
The groove between his brows deepened. “Answer the fucking question, Navya.”
What the hell was he so mad about?
She took out his coat from her gym bag. It was the same one he’d draped over her in London. She offered it to him. “I came to return this.”
When he didn’t take the coat from her, she dropped it on a side table.
“Now that you’ve returned it, you can leave,” he told her.
“No.”
His jaw hardened. “Why no?”
“I’m here, aren’t I? Just like you wanted,” she threw back. “Why do you need me to spell it out?”
“You’re here in front of me, filled with resentment and anger, either at yourself or at me, I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care. So, I need to hear the words, Navya. Why are you here?”
“I’m here because I can’t fucking stay away from you,” she yelled. “Because I couldn’t sleep after I sent you that damn message. Because I want to feel what only you make me feel. I want to explore what is happening between you and me, and I accept there is something between you and me.”
After tossing and turning the whole of last night, she’d decided to jump into this with him. It was, after all, only for one night. She’d pay her debt to him and get rid of her hunger and curiosity for him.
She studied him again, salivating at the glorious sight of him. Armaan Oshnov was freaking hot, and he made her insides tremble when he was near. She’d come fully prepared to have sex with him and get him out of her system once and for all. But watching him, standing cool and aloof from her, she knew she’d have to make the first move.
She moved closer to him and put her arms around him. “I want you, Armaan.”
“Then stop being mad. Be brave and accept what you feel for me.”
She pushed on her toes and kissed his mouth. “I’m ready to do this with you.”
That killer, naughty grin returned to his face. She had to admit she preferred this to that grim, unsmiling version of him.
“Are you saying you like me?” he checked.
She smirked. “Don’t push your luck. I’m here, aren’t I? And I’m willing to take this further.”
One second, he was staring at her, and the next, he tugged her waist, pulling her closer. As soon as she fell against his chest, he pressed his mouth to hers, attacking her lips and tongue. Her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, pulling him closer. God, this was what she longed for—this delicious feeling of coming alive in his arms, of her skin heating, her blood thickening, her core clenching, and desire pooling in her belly for him. She didn’t want to question why she was choosing him for her first sexual experience. It didn’t matter. What only mattered was that he could and would show her heaven, and she wanted to go there with him.
“What about your sister?” Armaan asked between kisses.
“Leave my family to me, okay?”
Her sister didn’t need to know about Armaan and her. No one needed to know. He was her own guilty pleasure, and she wanted him for herself. For the first time in a long time, she was thinking only about herself and what she wanted right now was him.
His hands dug into her waist, pulling her closer, while his mouth remained glued to hers, tasting, teasing, driving her insane. A long time later, he traced his mouth down her cheek, into the hollow of her neck. His teeth scraped the base of her neck, and she moaned.
“Baby,” he whispered against her skin. “I want…”
“You want…” She was panting now, her heart speeding.
“I want you to…” he said, pressing his erection into her.
God. He was so hard and she wanted to make him harder. She wanted him to lose control and claim her fully.
“You want me to…”
“I want you to take off...”
Her head spun. Yes, this was what she wanted. “You want me to take off…”
“I want you to take off your shoes and step on the mat,” Armaan said.
She jolted back, feeling like he’d thrown a bucket of cold water on her. Her mouth fell as she came to terms with what he was asking, and she glared at him.
“I like seeing you hot and bothered because of me.” He flicked her nose. “Now, take off your shoes and step on the mat.”
A few seconds ago, he’d been as into her as she’d been into him, and now, he was giving her instructions, acting so cool, when she knew for a fact that if she touched that part of him, then she’d find him hard and ready for her. Her gaze locked on his erection straining against his gym shorts.
He chuckled. “Don’t even think of it, moya tigritsa .”
“How are you acting so cool? I’m this close to losing my mind here.”
He scratched his jaw, studying her. “When I make love to you, it will be on a bed and not in my gym, and most definitely not when you’re angry with yourself for wanting me. Right now, you want me to fuck you just so you can get me out of your system. I don’t want hate-sex with you, Navya, and definitely not just one time, as you have planned it to be.”
Navya gritted her teeth. How the hell did he read her so easily?
He continued, “I want sex with you when your head,” he touched her temple, “and maybe your heart are both in it.” He placed his hand on her chest, right where her heart was running away.
“Aren’t you known to be the king of meaningless sex?” she gulped out. “What’s changed then?”
“You. You’re what’s changed. I don’t want only one night with you.”
Her heart speeded on his words. But he deserved her honesty as well.
“I will not fall for you,” she told him.
“You will.”
“No. I will not.”
He smirked. “You standing here in front of me, despite your sister telling you not to, definitely adds to my confidence.”
“Armaan, my heart will never be involved,” she pressed.
She’d learned her lesson a long time ago from the hateful example of her birth father, no less, never to trust any man with her heart. Her birth mother had suffered because of it, and that lesson remained etched in her mind.
“I’ll accept this for now,” he conceded. “But I do want to take it slow. This between us won’t be only about sex. We are going to date like two normal adults who are interested in one another. Okay?”
Her heart thudded. “You want to date me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I like being with you, and I like spending time with you. I want you to like me, not just as someone you choose to share your body with, but as someone you genuinely like and enjoy spending time with.”
Again, she wondered why he was so fixated with her.
She frowned. “What if I say no? What if I want this only one time?”
“Then this is over now. Like I said, I don’t want hate-sex. I want more .”
I want more.
This wasn’t what she had expected when she’d come here. But now that he’d said the words, a new kind of excitement was filling her. She had to admit that she found him funny and naughty and oh-so entertaining. Bantering with him made her feel alive. Amidst all the heightened emotions around him, this feeling of being alive, of standing on a precipice and perhaps freefalling with him, was right on top. But then, agreeing to him also meant that she’d have to keep him a secret from her family for a far longer time than she’d intended. But what the hell, she might as well take the plunge and see where she landed. Maybe, she’d enjoy the fall for as long as it lasted.
“Alright,” she accepted. “But I will not fall for you.”
He laughed. “Are you convincing yourself or me?”
She rolled her eyes. She stared at him for a long second and then jutted her chin out. “One more thing. Given your reputation of being a Casanova, I want us to be exclusive for however long we are together. If I see another woman near you, I will hurt her. Bad.”
He fanned himself. “That was so damn hot. I like my woman to be possessive.”
“I’m not your woman.”
He tugged her to him, wrapping his hands around her waist. “Baby, you became mine that first night we met four years ago. It’s just taken us a while to get here.”
God, this man was so intense. It scared the hell out of her. All of a sudden, she began to question her decision to be with him. God, what if this whole thing was a mistake?
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Before she could think to breathe, he said, “Baby, if we are doing this, then you should also know that I don’t share either. If I see another man even close to you, I will hurt him. Bad.”
Her eyes widened. God, that look on his face was deadly. She knew he meant what he’d said. He blinked, and his face was back to being calm and composed. He caressed her cheek, making her tremble.
She allowed herself to feel all the emotions she felt when she was once again close to him right now. She allowed her growing lust to remind her how hot the physical chemistry between them was. This was the reason she was agreeing to be with him. Exhaling, she put her arms around him.
Armaan kissed her cheek. “One more thing. For this to work, I need complete honesty between us. Which means you communicate openly, always.”
She nodded.
Another thought struck her. She voiced it out loud. “Okay then, if you’re adding conditions to this between us, then I have one of my own.”
“Sure, let’s hear it.”
“I want you to try and convince Mihir to talk to Ananya at some point. They have something unresolved between them, and it’s hurting her. She may deny it, but I believe she needs closure. Only then can she move on.”
Armaan rubbed his jaw. “That may be harder than you think. Mihir is touchy about her and doesn’t even like a mention of her. He’d never agree to meet her.”
“I want you to try nonetheless.”
He smiled. “Alright. I’ll try. No promises, however.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Ananya needed to live again and if this gave her sister the push that she needed to restart her life, then Navya wanted this for her. Perhaps, once this was done, Navya could also stop feeling guilty over the instances that happened four years ago. Maybe something good could come out of her being with Armaan after all.
“Well then, now that we are settled on everything, shoes off, gloves on,” Armaan instructed, releasing her.
“Why are you so hellbent on teaching me to fight better?” she grumbled as she unlaced her sneakers.
“Because you need to better your technique and because you need to get some of that resentment off your system.” He grabbed a fresh tee shirt from the side table and donned it. “Also, because all women need to learn how to defend themselves. But the women in my world need to be even better prepared.”
“Why? Do you have enemies? Am I going to be in danger?” she frowned. “Are you really in the mafia, like people say?”
He chuckled. “Not everything you read about us is true, and this is one thing I can safely accept—my brothers and I do not belong to the mafia. Which doesn’t mean we don’t have contacts inside it.”
As her eyes widened, he continued, “You’re safe, baby. I’d never risk your life, ever. Besides, once I’m done training you, you will be a danger to anyone who dares to hurt you.”
She donned her gloves and followed him on the mat where Armaan waited, ready with a pair of training pads on his hands.
“Shoulders back, stand taller,” he commanded. “Now hit me, right hand to right pad, left to left. Got it?”
She rained a series of punches.
“Now right, left, right,” he instructed. “Come on, hit harder.”
“This is dumb,” she complained. “I’ve learned to fight with free hands.”
“We’ll get there, once you know how to box properly. Right now, you suck at it. So, keep quiet and focus.”
She punched his pads harder, again and again, with Armaan barking instructions. Hours passed, or was it minutes—she knew not. The next time she stopped to take a breath, she was drenched in sweat.
She sank onto the floor and tossed the gloves to the side. “I’m done. No more.”
“Let’s stop today.” Armaan pointed to the side. “The shower is there. Meet me outside in fifteen minutes. I want us to have breakfast together. Okay?”
She nodded, heading in the direction of the shower. Once she was ready, she stared at herself in the mirror. Even with the most basic makeup, she thought she looked good. Her blue torn denims and plain grey cami top looked chic.
Her heart tripped. God, what was she doing? She was actually studying her reflection, checking to see if she looked good enough for him. For a man? When had she ever done this? Never. That was the answer. And here she was, behaving completely different from her core nature. God. What was she getting into?
For years, she’d stayed away from men. She’d dated only a few over the years, and those were the tamest and mildest of men—those who weren’t too rich or too handsome or too cocky—even though those men didn’t make her blood run hot. Armaan was the complete opposite of all that. Her choosing him over all of them already was a massive change from her own belief and thought process. Yet, none of this seemed to deter her. She was all set to break her self-imposed rules for him. For Armaan Oshnov. Which begged the question: how much more was she going to change when all of this with Armaan was done?
If her family learned about this, they’d think she’d lost her mind. Rajiv wouldn’t let her out of his sight ever, and Ananya would probably murder Armaan. However, none of this, even the questions her own mind was raising, was going to dissuade her.
Armaan Oshnov wasn’t going to be her destination; she knew that. However, he could temporarily be her journey—the road she walked on for just a short while. She’d read somewhere that sometimes the experience of the journey was far better than the destination. And no matter how short, she was certain the journey she’d embarked on with him was going to be exciting and, hence, totally worth it.
And that was enough for her, wasn’t it?