33. Naina
Chapter Thirty-Three
NAINA
Controversial, but I don’t like mangoes.
If we’re talking controversial, then pineapple *does* belong on pizza.
I want to have sex where we can get caught was a lot easier said than done. Because where in public? It couldn’t be a random spot chosen spontaneously.
If we got caught, it wouldn’t be something we could laugh off.
No, it needed to be planned.
Except, Kash was keeping me out of the loop.
He had rushed me into the car last night when it started to rain and since then, he was acting like that whole conversation didn’t happen. Even as we went to sleep in the same bed, it was like nothing had happened.
How could he turn off his emotions like that?
Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Lex said last night.
I know Kash. He’s a perfectionist and he wasn’t going to give up five years of celibacy for anything less than perfection.
Logistically, there could be a million different reasons why Kash hasn’t been with a woman in five years. There was also a possibility that Lex was wrong. I mean, how well could you really know a person who didn’t want you to know them? Kash told me himself that he chose to live his life distanced from people. He didn’t want them to know him.
And yet.
The part of me that I hadn’t locked away, and that hadn’t been hardened by experience, it wanted to believe something else entirely.
Which was stupid because Kash didn’t even remember that night. Maybe it hadn’t been that memorable, and I was hyping it up in my mind. Which was sad and pathetic.
I couldn’t live my life thinking about a night which happened five years, could I?
Giving in was a lot less confusing than continuing to fight my attraction to him. Who was to say any relationship between us would have lasted past six months? I was being ridiculous.
“Didi, are you even paying attention?”
Sami’s question brought me out of my reverie, and I blinked into focus. She stood in front of me with her hands on her hips, head tilted to the side, mouth pursed in displeasure.
“Yeah, of course I am.”
“Really? What did I say?”
“Um.” I looked at Kash for help, his eyes dancing with mirth. Sami had asked him if he wanted to come to The Met with us and he had agreed. Which I found odd because the man barely left his office. There were no more news reports of the condemned building or SFV’s connection to it.
I wanted to ask what happened. At the same time, I wanted to stay far away from anything to do with SFV.
“Leave your sister alone, Samira,” Kash said. “She clearly has no interest in us.”
“That’s not true,” I protested. “I’ll pay attention, I promise.”
“You also promised that when we left home,” Sami said.
I had promised. It was all Kash’s fault, really. He kept distracting me with teasing little touches along the back of my neck, on my arms, on my thighs. Why had I chosen to wear this dress? It looked cute and flirty on the hanger, mid-thigh length with a corset style bodice. Little had I known that Kash would use it to torture me.
“Cross my heart.” I made an x over my heart.
Sami looked as if she didn’t believe me, but we started walking again. She had the map of the museum open and directed us to all the exhibits she wanted to see, chattering away happily.
After the tense conversation we had yesterday, I was glad she was focusing on something else. Quite frankly, just one of us thinking about all the potential things that could go wrong was enough.
“Let’s go see the Impressionists,” Kash said.
Sami wrinkled her nose. “Do we have to? I don’t think I’m a fan.”
“Naina can be the tie breaker.”
Kash and Sami looked at me expectantly.
“Oh, yeah, make me the bad guy. That works in everyone’s favor.”
Sami grinned widely. “See, she wants to do my thing and doesn’t want to break your heart.”
“She very obviously doesn’t want to disagree with you and that’s why she’s not making a decision,” Kash said. His thumb brushed innocently over the inside of my wrist, sending my heartbeat skyrocketing.
I was such a goner that the simplest touch was sending me reeling. I tried so hard to cling to some semblance of normalcy, to no avail.
“We could all go our separate ways and see the exhibits we want to see,” I suggested. “Or, Grayson can go with one of you, and I can go with the other.”
“Grayson should go with Kash because he’s here to protect him,” Sami said hurriedly.
“Honey, you need far more protection than I do. I’ve never been almost arrested,” Kash replied.
Sami gasped in mock outrage, her mouth opening. Kash appeared to be enjoying himself in this discussion. I wondered when the last time was he could just walk around and be playful. When was the last time he did something that he enjoyed?
“That happened one time,” Sami said.
“It better be the only time. How many judges do you think owe me a favor?”
Sami stamped her foot. “You know what, I’m taking Grayson just to get away from you.”
She stalked off in the other direction, quickly disappearing in the crowd. I panicked for a moment, arching up onto my toes.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Sutherland. I’ll make sure Miss Hollister is fine,” Grayson said.
With a nod, he followed Sami, his long legs swallowing up the distance between them.
“What is with you Hollister sisters always trying to get away from me?” Kash teased.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and took me towards the Impressionists exhibit. I couldn’t help noticing the surreptitious glances people tossed his way. Yeah, my husband’s beauty was no less than these precious objects we were here to see.
With his tousled hair, his sparkling eyes and those lips tilted up into a playful smile, he was sinful. I should have left him at home because I didn’t want these people seeing him.
He was mine.
Careful, Naina, you’re starting to sound just like him.
Distantly, I wondered what he would be like if we were in a real relationship. He was so obsessive and possessive now, he would be impossible to deal with if we were dating or married for real.
Not that I needed to worry about such a thing because it was never going to happen.
“I haven’t tried to run away today,” I said.
Kash gave me a wry look. “Thanks for tacking ‘today’ and suggesting you might try to run away tomorrow.”
I shrugged. “I can’t predict what you’re going to do tomorrow. It might make me run.”
“Sweetheart, there isn’t a corner of this earth you can run to where I wouldn’t find you.” He mumbled something under his breath that I didn’t quite catch.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.” He kissed my temple. I closed my eyes, committing the feel of his lips to memory.
I was trying to not think about what waited for me on the other side of this relationship. The sleepless nights, the nightmares, the Windfield, a life in which I didn’t drop everything and run off to New York with my sister just because a pretty man asked me to.
We entered the Impressionist exhibit and Kash pulled me to the nearest painting, putting my body in front of his. There were a lot of people here, walking around, admiring the paintings, some with headphones on as they listened to the audio guided tour.
“Do you like the impressionists?” I asked.
“Sure.”
He’d said the same thing last night when I asked him if he liked or knew the photographer for whom we went to the gallery. And he wondered why I ran.
“This is the first time I have ever been in a museum since I was a kid,” Kash said. “The last time would have been in sixth grade. My father hired a tutor to teach me about the fine arts, and only because it’s assumed I should know them.”
Hearing the wistfulness in his voice made my heartache. It wasn’t fair that his father decided Kash didn’t deserve to explore the beautiful things in life on his own. Tilting my head back, I brushed my lips against his jaw.
“Thank you for telling me.”
We walked the room, giving each painting due attention. I didn’t ask him more questions other than if he liked a painting or not. I didn’t want this memory to be tainted by his father’s abuse.
Kash always stood behind me, teasing me with innocent touches that were anything but. His fingers brushing my hair off my neck, skating down my arms. Sometimes, they would graze the sides of my breasts.
By the third time it happened, my body was on fire, pulse pounding between my legs. A tender ache developed in my lower belly. I shifted on my feet, surreptitiously pressing my thighs together. Liquid heat was coursing through my veins, everywhere he touched igniting with fire.
“Are you okay?” His lips grazed the shell of my ear. I heard the smirk in his voice.
God, he was such a pussy tease.
“Yes, fine. Why?”
I looked up at him, widening my eyes innocently. In response, he ‘accidentally’ brushed his hand over my nipple. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t moan.
“Sorry,” he whispered, even though he didn’t mean it.
There were people pressing in around us so Kash moved to a different painting. The paintings were undeniably beautiful even though I couldn’t focus on them anymore. Kash’s hands had me entirely too distracted.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Nothing.”
His fingers played with the hem of my dress and from the outside, it probably looked like a flirtatious gesture as his fingers dipped inside.
I looked around us at the crowded room, at the older couple standing some few feet away from us, at the group of college students, the families and tourists. It wasn’t like they were watching us; we weren’t the main attraction in the room.
“It doesn’t feel like nothing.”
“What does it feel like?” His fingers skated higher up my thigh. I looked around us again. We were in the far corner of the room by the wall and Kash’s body was behind me so it wasn’t like anyone could see what he was doing.
Kash’s fingers dipped inside my panties.
My eyes widened in pure panic, and I looked around us again just to check that no one was looking at us.
“Kash, I’m not sure this is a good idea. What if someone sees?”
I’d been brave last night, not so much in the cold light of day. Which was my ultimate problem. His finger brushed over my clit and I bit my lip so I didn’t make a noise.
“Do you think I would let that happened?” Kash whispered. I tilted my head up to look up at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You are my wife, everything about you belongs to me. Every moan, every sigh, every desperate move is all mine. As long as you’re my wife, no one else is getting any part of you. Look at the painting, tell me what you see.”
The painting? He wanted to talk about the painting right now?
“Do you like the colors?” Two fingers pushed inside me, the heel of his hand creating the most delicious pressure against my clit.
“I— Yes?”
Kash made a sound that could almost have been a laugh.
“The brushstrokes are really unique.”
I didn’t give a fuck about the brushstrokes. My entire being was focused on the way his fingers moved inside me.
He curled them a little, brushing against that part of me that had me almost toppling over. I would have too if his other arm hadn’t been wrapped around my waist, holding me flush against his hard body. And boy was it hard. I felt his hardness pressing against my ass and I rolled my hips a little.
“That’s one of my favorite paintings,” the woman next to us said. She was looking at the same painting we were standing in front of. Talking to us!
I gripped Kash’s thigh, no doubt leaving indents from my nails. My heart was racing inside my chest. My soul about to leave my body. We were going to get caught. I also couldn’t deny that some part of me thrilled at being so reckless.
“It’s certainly unique,” Kash replied. He sounded so normal no one would have guessed he was finger fucking his wife. “I could spend hours looking at it.”
His lips brushed my hair, fingers lazily pumping inside me.
“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
He wanted to have a conversation with a stranger now??
“Yes, very unique,” I replied tightly.
I was afraid to look at the woman, afraid she would know exactly what we were doing. Kash stopped, his fingers still inside me. My pulse pounded between my legs, and I shifted restlessly, squeezing my thighs together and Kash’s fingers along with it.
“Have you seen it before?” Kash asked. “We would be happy to move. It’s not nice to come to a museum and stand in front of one painting.”
Was he being serious right now?
“Kash—”
The heel of his palm rubbed against my clit and I cried out, coughing to cover it up.
“Are you okay, dear?” The woman was looking at me with concern. She gave off retired school teacher vibes.
I nodded mutely.
“She’s just really shy,” Kash explained.
The woman gave me an odd look and I tried to smile at her, though it was probably more of a grimace. With a nod, she walked off to a different painting.
“I’m going to murder you,” I said through clenched teeth. “Actually, murder you. They’re never going to find your body.”
Kash chuckled lightly, lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“You won’t do that,” Kash boasted. “No one else can make you come like I can.”
“That’s a bold statement from someone who has never made me come,” I quipped back.
Even as I said it, I knew he was right. The way he played with the softest parts of me was nothing I had ever experienced before.
His fingers moved inside me like he knew exactly what I needed. But it was more than that.
Sex was as much a mind game as it was about the body, and somehow, Kash just understood my mind.
“This is just the beginning. By the time I am done with you, no one else will compare. I’m going to enjoy ruining you for other men. You would like that, wouldn’t you? It will be my personal key to your body because I know just how to make you tick.”
The pressure of his fingers increased, as did the ache in my belly. I faintly registered that I was going to come in a room full of people in the middle of The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“You have to be quiet when you come. Can you do that?”
I didn’t know if I could, not that I had much of a choice in this matter. Kash’s fingers twisted inside me, brushing that sweet spot again as the heel of his hand pressed against my clit. My eyes rolled back into my head, and I turned my head, burying my face against his arm to muffle any noise.
The most delicious pleasure shot through my veins as I came and came. My mind seemed to shut off and for long minutes there was nothing but silence. When Kash removed his hand, I pulled away from him and on wobbly legs, walked to the nearest exit.