Chapter One #2
No. No, this wasn’t one of her mom’s men, looking to kidnap her again. If he were, he wouldn’t have wasted so much time playing
games, he would have done it already. She regulated her breathing and lifted her chin. “I think I do.”
John’s smooth, middle America accent grew clipped. Maybe from impatience? “Come now, don’t cause a scene. If you do—”
“If I do, what?” She twisted her hand away from him. “You’re going to drag me out of a crowded bar? When my boyfriend’s hanging
out right over there?” Sejal gestured behind her at the crowded dance floor, hoping someone over there might qualify as her
boyfriend.
She didn’t often trot out a fake lover. It limited how much money she could earn. But some men appreciated another man’s dibs
more than they respected a no.
“Boyfriend? You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
He glanced around. Slowly, he sat back.
“That’s what I thought.” She turned on her heel and walked away, her heart thudding in her chest.
Where was she going to go? Bear in the woods indeed.
She could signal the bartenders, but that could bring in security, which was the thing she didn’t want. He’d shied away from
attention, too, she reminded herself. She just had to give him the slip.
So annoying! She’d come here tonight looking to blow off some steam, and now she’d have to leave, unsatisfied. This wasn’t
worth the fifty bucks.
She looked over her shoulder and found John getting up off his stool, his gaze on her. Great, now she had to dodge a cranky
rando. She turned around and entered the dance floor. She bumped into someone and muttered an apology.
Now, to find something or someone suitable to duck behind. She feinted left, then right, and then caught sight of a massively
large figure standing in the corner. He was cloaked in shadows, leaning against the wall, holding a beer by the neck. Her
skin tingled. Had he noticed her, too?
Perfect. She made a beeline for him. He would do as well as any big piece of furniture.
The man straightened as she walked closer, growing even taller. He was dressed casually, in dark jeans and a bomber jacket.
She placed her most charming, beseeching smile on her face and looked up at him. He tilted his head back, and she nearly strangled
on her own tongue as the shifting lights above them danced over his face.
Handsome. But, like, rough handsome, boxer handsome, lumberjack handsome.
He was South Asian, like her, and made up of all sharp angles, from his wide forehead to his blade-like nose.
A pale scar slashed across one cheek, starting right under his eye and disappearing at the edge of the well-groomed beard that covered his chin and jaw.
His black hair was cut short, but not short enough to eliminate its rebellious curl.
He had massive arms and a large chest, with shoulders wide enough to blot out the moon.
She was strong, but he was stronger. She was tall, but he was taller.
Uh, focus. “There you are,” she breathed, and grasped his arms.
He looked down at her hands on him, then came back to her face. “Here I am,” he said, in a deep, dark voice.
His skin was hot. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered into his ear. “There’s a creepy guy bugging me. I’m trying to shake
him. Would you mind if I used you as my pretend boyfriend slash human shield for a second?”
He took a beat to reply, and she almost stepped away. Then an arm slid around her waist and pulled her up tight against what
felt like an actual living mountain. “I was looking all over for you,” he said loudly. He pulled her even tighter against
him and lowered his head, pressing his cheek to hers. His breath tickled her ear, sending a tingle of electricity down her
spine. “The guy in the blue shirt?”
She nodded, then yelped when the man used his grip on her to pick her up—like off the floor!—and turn around so she was between
him and the wall. Oh. Oh.
No one had picked her up in a very long time.
Reflexively, she wound her arms around his neck. He set her down gently, but she didn’t remove her arms.
The lights in this bar were low and tinged with red, selling upscale seduction, and they slid over his brown skin like tinted silk.
The only thing soft on him was his surprisingly full-lipped mouth.
Unable to stop herself, she touched the hair curling at the nape of his neck. Scratch that, his hair was also soft.
He turned his head slightly, leaning into her touch. His eyes weren’t brown, as she’d first assumed. They were a startling
light brownish-green.
Watch out for those light-eyed Desi men. The world’s been telling them they’re beautiful from the second they opened their
eyes.
She no longer put stock in anything her aunt had preached at her, but she’d understood what Rhea was saying when she’d gifted
her this nugget of wisdom. Eurocentric features equaled privilege in their society, and too much of that was a heady drug
when it came to egos.
But who was she to hold a genetic quirk against someone? Especially when they were her type. Big and hot and built like a
bear.
She caught a flash of John walking right past them, and she tensed. Driven by impulse, she rose up on her tiptoes and pressed
her lips against her savior’s.
He didn’t respond for a second, his lips flat and hard against hers. But then his arms went around her waist, and his lips
moved, softening, welcoming.
Oh.
It had been a while since Sejal had been kissed, and she wasn’t sure if she’d been kissed like this. For a second, it was
like the world around them blipped out of place. Gone was the man who had triggered her fight or flight. Gone was the music.
Gone were the people around them.
Her adrenaline was transformed into pure lust by the long, drugging kiss, weighing her down.
She relaxed against the stranger and followed his lead, tilting her head one way, then another.
His tongue brushed her lower lip and she let out a soft moan.
His fingers stroked under the hem of her shirt, settling in the small of her back like the dip there had been made for him.
He must work with his hands, she thought.
There were calluses on the pad of his thumb and forefinger.
She wanted to feel them all over her, catching
on her skin.
What are you doing?
She wasn’t sure anymore, but she did know that she hadn’t felt like this in a long time, if ever. She parted her lips and
let him in. A zing of electricity ran down her back, and she pressed closer as the kiss turned hotter.
After a last lick, he lifted his head and looked down at her, brow furrowed. His lips were wet. She inhaled. He smelled delicious, spicy and dark.
“What is going on?” he murmured, like he was asking himself, but she didn’t know the answer to that, either. She ran her hands
over his shoulders. His jacket was silky smooth.
His fingers flexed on her back. Her skin burned. She wanted him to stroke his hand up.
They stared at each other for a long moment, the spell broken when someone bumped into him. Sejal mentally shook herself,
the music and people around them yanking her out of the weird sensual fog he’d draped around them. She pitched her voice louder,
so he could hear her over the din. “Uh. I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. Or I should have asked
you first.”
“If it makes you feel better, if you’d asked me, I would have said yes.” The words were uttered without inflection, but a
shiver ran down her back. “Is he gone?”
“Who?”
“The man who was bothering you?”
Oh, right. Fuck. John. Sejal snapped to attention. She licked her wet lips and dared to look around the big man’s body. John was nowhere to be seen.
She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Good. He was gone.
Assholes abounded, and at least John had led her to a rather handsome fellow who kissed like a dream. Maybe now you can get back to your original goal for the night? “I think so.”
Sejal slowly lowered her hands from around his neck and slid them down his shoulders. She ought to release him, but his heart
was thudding right under her palm, and the wall was at her back. Plus, he didn’t seem like he was in a hurry to get rid of
her.
“What was the deal with him?”
“Someone who couldn’t take no for an answer. Thought I owed him for a few drinks.” Her potential suitor didn’t need to know
about the whole stealing a Rolex situation.
The man’s voice deepened. “Disgusting.”
“Very.” She tried to lighten the mood. “Do you usually help damsels in distress on Friday nights?”
He lifted his massive shoulder. There was a quiet, controlled stillness about him. Normally, she didn’t care for control,
but his kiss had been wild, so the dichotomy was intriguing. “Not usually, no. Dragon fighting is reserved for Saturdays.”
Her smile was small, but felt real. “Thanks for making an exception. What’s your name?”
“Krish.”
That was a beautiful name. Maybe her new favorite name. “Where are you from?”
“DC. Visiting for the weekend.”
Perfect. She avoided locals for hookups when she could.
Is he going to be a hookup? Okay, it was a tad early to make that call. Except that she didn’t necessarily want to get to know Krish better here, where
John could pop up at any moment and make a potential scene. She was now also too skittish to go to someone’s hotel room. “Do
you want to walk me to the train?”
“I have a car. I can drive you home, if you’d like.”
She hesitated. A car was enclosed, and she’d rather drive somewhere than be driven, but when she checked in with her gut,
it was quiet. If anything, it was clamoring to wrap herself around him again.
Is that your gut or something farther down? They were tied together, her instincts and her lust nowadays. Sex with terrible people was something she’d left in her youth.
Wasn’t this why she’d come out? To find someone who would hopefully make her forget her solitary life for a night? It wasn’t