39
SHIVANI
I saw this reel on Instagram where couples play rock, paper, scissors to decide where to go and what to do on their date night—and that’s exactly what I’m making Rudra do.
Although he wasn’t very enthusiastic about the idea, he still agreed when I pouted and pretended to be mad at him.
He won the first round, and that’s how we ended up at a restaurant, where we ate a boring salad.
“Hey, I won fair and square. Don’t make that face,” he calls out with a victorious grin, and I stick out my tongue at him. But he just laughs at my childish expression.
“Oh, come on, don’t be a sore loser,” he teases, poking me playfully in the side.
“Anyway, it’s my turn now,” I grin. “I’m going to win.”
Rudra rolls his eyes, clearly not convinced. “Yeah, sure you are,” he says sarcastically. “And pigs can fly.”
I huff, crossing my arms. “Hey, don’t underestimate me. I’m a master at this game.”
Rudra chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “You, a master? I find that hard to believe.”
I ignore his skepticism and give him a tight-lipped smile. “Just watch and be prepared to be humiliated.”
He raises an eyebrow at my words, amused by my confidence. “Alright, if you’re so sure, give it your best shot,” he says, teasing.
I smirk, feeling a rush of determination. “I will—and you can start preparing your humble pie.”
With that, we ready our hands, eyes locked in a dramatic stare-down.
“For someone who didn’t want to do this, you’re very excited, Mr. Malhotra!” I exclaim.
“I had watched TV shopping channels with you, and it would be interesting,” he says. “It’s you who’s interesting, not the stupid game.” This man knows how to use his words to melt a girl’s heart.
And then we finally throw out our hands. He goes with paper; I do scissors.
Rudra’s eyes widen in mock surprise. “What? No way, I definitely won that round.”
I grin, holding up my fingers, doing actions of cutting paper. “Sorry, but I’m the winner this time.”
He pouts like a kid, pretending to be upset. “Not fair, you cheated.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic behavior. “How could I have cheated? We went at the same time!”
I love how he’s so free with me—this big, ruthless man who’s anything but scary when he’s with me. This version of him, the unfiltered, playful Rudra… he’s my favorite.
“Okay, fine. Where do you want to go now?” He asks after a moment, as a small smile dances on his lips.
“Can we eat pani puri?” I whisper. My appetite has definitely increased, but I still find it odd to eat that much—I need a gentle push. Reassurance — that’s what I actually need.
“Hey, you never have to ask me. We are definitely going to eat pani puri,” he agrees, grabbing my hand and intertwining our fingers. “More specifically, you’re going to eat it.” His voice deepens, and I don’t argue.
He doesn’t like it, and I don’t want to force him to eat something he doesn’t enjoy. I know he would, if I asked, no matter what. But that wouldn’t be fair to him.
Rudra grins, clearly amused by my excitement. “You have a weakness for pani puri, don’t you?”
I pout. “It’s not a weakness—it’s a preference.”
He squeezes my hand, laughing. Warmth fills me as his laughter rumbles. “Whatever you say, darling. Come on, let’s go find some good pani puri.”
We walk through the city streets, hand in hand. There’s something so comforting about being with him—surrounded by his strength, his presence. I glance up at him, and the streetlights cast a soft glow on his sharp features. He catches me staring and gives me a cocky smirk. Smug as ever.
“See something you like?” He teases, that arrogance lacing his voice.
“Yeah,” I admit without hesitation, red blooming on my cheeks. “You’re very handsome. Not my fault.”
“Thanks for inflating my ego, darling.” He smirks, and I shake my head at his arrogance.
When we reach the pani puri stall, there’s a small crowd around it. Rudra asks me to wait and walks over to the vendor. I watch their short exchange, and suddenly the vendor starts shooing people away as Rudra returns to me.
“Let’s go,” he says, his hand reaching out to me as he drags me to the stall.
“What happened? Why did everyone leave?” I ask, confused, as I step beside him while walking towards the stall.
“I bought the stall,” he replies casually, with a small shrug of his shoulder.
A moment, and then realization hits me. He bought the stall. Rudra bought the stall.
What?!
My eyes widen, and I let out the question. My voice rising with disbelief. “What?!”
Before I can protest, he adds, “Don’t. It won’t cost me anything. I’m really doing the vendor a favor.”
“Now you can enjoy the pani puri without thinking too much,” he says, standing beside me like my personal bodyguard.
He’s always so protective, so caring. I look up at him, half-annoyed and half-grateful. “Don’t give me that look. I know you secretly like it. It’s just like those book men you love so much,” he whispers in my ear, his breath tickling me, filling me with warmth.
I gape at him. “How do you know about them?” I whisper-yell, shock covering my features.
He chuckles, with his eyes shining like a diamond. “Well, your reaction intrigued me, so I read one of them. Maybe took some notes.” He winks as he nudges me towards the stall.
This man is unbelievable.
I shake my head as I take a disposable plate. The vendor serves me, and I eat happily. “Bhaiya, it’s tasty… but not as tasty as my husband makes it,” I say sweetly, and the vendor glances at Rudra in part fear and part surprise.
I remember it very clearly: when I was on my period, I made the grave mistake of informing my husband about my midnight pani puri cravings, and guess what? He made everything from scratch, like he made that paneer tikka, and I have to admit it. It was the most delicious pani puri I ever had.
When I’m done, Rudra pulls out his chequebook.
“I don’t think you need that for paying just for a few pani-puri,” I laugh as I dust my hands and step back from the stall.
“I do. I’m paying him ?10,000,” he says coolly as he signs off on the cheque.
A startled gasp echoes around us, and I stare at him with my mouth agape. “You’re saying this one plate of pani puri was worth ?10,000? Are you mad?” My eyes almost pop out of my socket because what the hell!
“For a businessman, you really took a terrible deal.” I glare at him as we walk away towards our car.
“I’d take any deal for you, darling,” he says, slinging his arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.
As Rudra drives us home, his hand rests on my thigh, firm and possessive. I try to focus on the passing lights outside the window, but the warmth of his touch lingers, heat pooling in my stomach.
He glances at me, eyes dark and intense.
He squeezes my thigh, and I instantly feel the blood rush to my face.
We reach home and walk toward our room, still hand in hand.
I head into the closet to change once we enter our room while he goes to his office, since he keeps his clothes there now, and the reason was my clothes.
Chachi and Aditi forced me to buy too many clothes; it was difficult to fit them in the closet, so he moved all his clothes to his home office.
I quickly change into a nightgown I’d bought when I went shopping with Aditi. It was not modest like others, but it felt good wearing it. I glance at myself in the mirror, feeling… unsure. It hugs my body, outlining my curves. It feels too revealing.
Just as I step out, Rudra walks back in—shirtless, in just his trousers. He stops, eyes roaming over me, slow and deliberate. I bite my lip, nervous under his gaze, as goosebumps erupt on my arms. The hold this man has on me.
“Don’t bite your lip,” he murmurs, walking toward me with long strides. Heat pools in my guts as I watch him walking towards me.
He cups my face and touches my nose gently. “Only I can do that.”
Rudra captures my lower lip between his teeth, nibbling and sucking gently. A shiver runs down my spine, and a soft moan escapes me.
He pushes me back onto the bed, his body hovering over mine.
His arms cage me in, his muscles tense beneath my fingertips.
I run my hands down his chest, feeling every hard line of his body.
The air between us shifts, heavy and charged.
But then—he stops. He breaks the kiss and looks into my eyes, tracing a gentle finger along my cheek. Then he lies down beside me.
I sigh in frustration. “Do you not find me attractive?” I whisper, annoyed, am I really ugly?
“What?” He asks, turning toward me, confusion swirling in his eyes, and a frown makes its way onto his face.
“You always stop at the kiss. Am I not attractive enough?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
His eyes widen in disbelief. Then he shifts closer, our bodies flush.
“It’s not that, Shivani, I just...” He plops up on the bed, looking in my eyes, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, baby.” He reasons, and my annoyance melts away, only a little.
“But how is it that you never lose control?” I huff. I know I am not being fair and that I should be happy he considers my feelings, but I am mad. He stares at me, and suddenly he has me pinned underneath him.
“You want to know how attractive you are? How much do you affect me?” His voice is rough and low, and it almost makes me moan.
Rudra takes my hand and guides it to his crotch. I freeze, overwhelmed by the sudden boldness.
His body is tense under my touch. “Feel that, darling?” He breathes. “That’s what you do to me. You drive me insane with desire.”
“I’m being as patient as I can be with you. Don’t make it any harder for me.” He sighs, frustration flickering in his eyes.
“I don’t want you to be patient,” I whisper as my lips tremble with shyness.
His lips crash onto mine with a need that steals my breath. His hands trail down my sides, gripping my hips, his body pressing against mine. He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against mine. His breath is hot against my skin.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, darling,” he murmurs, voice gruff. “You don’t know how close I am to losing control.”
“Lose control,” I plead softly. “Please. I want you to lose control.”
Rudra growls low in his throat, his body going taut. “You’re playing with fire,” he warns, eyes dark and wild. “But if this is what you want—then I can’t hold back any longer.”