A Sticky Wicket in Bollywood

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A Sticky Wicket in Bollywood Page 11

by T. A. Chase


  With a trembling hand, Raj held out an open condom packet. Ajay took it, then pulled the rubber out. He groaned as he rolled the latex over his aching hard-on. He tried not to spend too much time touching himself or he’d spill without ever getting inside Raj.

  He smeared on a coat of slick, then placed the head of his cock at Raj’s opening. Bracing one hand next to Raj’s head, Ajay slowly began to enter him. As much as he wanted to slam in as deep and as hard as he could, Ajay wasn’t about to lose control like that.

  Ajay doubted Raj had been with another man since they’d broken up, and so he had to be careful not to hurt him. He eased into Raj’s tight passage, moaning when he was finally in as far as he could go.

  Looking down into Raj’s dark eyes, Ajay allowed all the love he still felt for the man to shine in his own gaze. He wanted Raj to know it wasn’t just about sex for him. It hadn’t been before when they had been at university, and it wasn’t now that Raj was with him again.

  “You can move,” Raj told him, but while his tone was brisk, there was a softness in his expression that informed Ajay that Raj had got the message.

  He began to move, thrusting in and out, starting out slow, but speeding up as Raj began to undulate beneath him, convincing him that he was all right. Ajay grunted when Raj clenched his inner muscles like a vice around his shaft, seemingly to do all he could to get Ajay to climax.

  Pleasure stormed through Ajay, overwhelming all his senses until all he could see was Raj, and nothing else existed for him. Then when he was least expecting it, his climax broke over him, swamping him in desire. He filled the condom as he shouted, “Raj!”

  Raj held him as he shuddered and trembled, then collapsed when it seemed like all his strength drained from him. Panting, he buried his face against Raj’s neck, trying to catch his breath and calm his heartbeat.

  When he thought he could move again, he flopped to one side. Raj rolled with him, and their eyes met. Smiling, Ajay brushed a lock of sweat-soaked hair off Raj’s forehead.

  “Do you think you can rest now?”

  While he waited for Raj’s answer, Ajay grabbed some tissues from the drawer and cleaned them both up.

  “Yes.”

  That was all Ajay needed to hear right then. He was willing to wait until the next day to talk about anything else. He gathered Raj up into his warm embrace, encouraging Raj to lay his head on his chest.

  As Raj snuggled close to him, Ajay nuzzled Raj’s temple. How many nights have I dreamed of this very situation? How many dreams have I had that ended with Raj in my arms and in my bed?

  He sighed. If this is yet another dream, I don’t ever want it to end.

  Ajay allowed the darkness to envelop him, happy deep inside him for the first time in years.

  * * * *

  Rajan squinched his eyes shut more tightly as he awoke, wondering why it was so bright. He hadn’t heard Armaan announce himself.

  Shifting his position, an unfamiliar soreness made him wince. His eyes flew open as full awareness hit.

  He was in Ajay’s bed, naked, and they’d fucked last night.

  Rajan moved to sit up and couldn’t stifle the groan that was only partly due to his physical discomfort. The other part stemmed from the memory of throwing himself wholeheartedly back into an intimacy that fed a side of him he thought he’d left behind long ago.

  Too late for regrets, but he had no idea where to go from here.

  At least he felt somewhat rested. After the emotional and draining experience of being in the room when his mother had passed away, he’d still had to make the funeral arrangements. Then he’d been ‘on’, having to maintain a public face while dealing with everyone from his inner circle to the Bollywood crowd to the media, never having a chance to let down his guard.

  His father had been incredibly helpful, but he barely knew the man. Beni Sharma he knew well— too well—but Rajan didn’t have any sort of emotional connection with him, and he always seemed to have an agenda. Karishma had seemed determined to be by his side, but was not exactly someone he could lean on. Of everyone, it had probably been Mrs Kapoor who had most easily straddled the line between truly supportive and efficient while also being someone he felt a measure of familiarity with. All in all, it had been an exhausting whirlwind, with very little time to relax.

  On top of everything else, tainting any moment he might have had to take a breath, was the lingering idea that someone had been watching him, might still be watching. He hadn’t received any new messages or notes, but then again, they had been so inundated with calls and visitors that new security measures had had to be put into place. Only a select few people were able to get through the screening of calls and people trying to gain access to the house.

  The day before…no, two days ago now, he remembered abruptly leaving Maa’s house, coming out of a grief-fuelled haze in a panic, needing to get away from everyone for just a little while. He’d gone back to his own house, but there had been no privacy to be had there, either. The noise—the voices—the phones ringing. It had all suddenly overwhelmed him, and he’d walked out without telling anyone, had left the house in his own car without a driver, and had driven around the city for a while to calm the buzzing in his head.

  Unfortunately, he’d been so tired that he’d nearly got into an accident. So he’d made it to Beni’s office building, parked his car in the lot, then had walked out and grabbed a taxi.

  When they’d asked him where to go, his thoughts had immediately turned to Ajay and his offer of a place to escape to.

  Escape. That’s what he had needed just then, and he had seized upon the idea. When he’d arrived at Ajay’s, he had just caught Mrs Mehra arriving back at the house with some parcels, so once she’d opened the gate to him, he’d helped her to carry them inside. She had quietly offered her condolences—the news had been everywhere—then she’d fed him, installed him without question into a guest room, and he’d been here ever since.

  A bit embarrassed to be lingering alone in bed, naked, while the day was well underway, especially since Ajay was nowhere to be seen, Rajan took the opportunity to get up and walk into the bathroom to freshen up. He made quick use of the shower, dried off, and that’s when he noticed a stack of folded clothing with a note on top.

  I need to take care of a few things this morning. Here are some fresh loungewear and some street clothes in case you want to go somewhere. Mrs Mehra is doing your laundry with mine, and she will be downstairs in case you need her. Please eat breakfast. I hope to see you when I return. Ajay.

  Ajay had thoughtfully provided white shirts and light hued pants to fit his mourning.

  He dressed in the comfortable housewear, picked up the rest of the clothing and the note, then quietly made his way back across the house to the room he’d been using. The last thing he wanted was to announce to Mrs Mehra that he’d been in Ajay’s bed last night, though realistically he knew that most domestic employees were aware of everything that went on.

  With one last glance at himself in the mirror to make sure he looked presentable, Rajan went downstairs once again and this time headed towards the kitchen. Before he could get there, though, there was the sound of a key in the lock of the front door.

  Ajay must be back already.

  More than a touch nervous about seeing him after everything they had done last night, Rajan bit his lip, took a deep breath and paused just before the kitchen threshold. He watched the entrance from the foyer to the living room, trying to mentally prepare himself while waiting for Ajay to come around the corner.

  “Hey, Ajay! Did you see that your friend Raj is missing?”

  Rajan froze. That was not Ajay.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Before he could decide to move, Ajay’s friend Neel came around the corner and froze himself, staring at Rajan.

  “You’re…here,” he said, looking nonplussed. He looked around, probably for Ajay, then started walking into the room again, much more slowly. Mrs Mehra appeared on the stairs
from the direction of Ajay’s suite, probably having straightened the room…and didn’t the thought of that have Rajan’s cheeks burning.

  “Mr Malhotra, Master Singh is not here right now.” She gave him a quelling look, which morphed into caring concern as she looked past him to meet Rajan’s eyes. “Tea and some breakfast, Master Malik?”

  “Yes, thank you,” he answered, knowing she wouldn’t be pleased if he didn’t try to have at least something. He looked over at Neel, and sighed inwardly. Damn manners.

  “Would you care to join me?” he offered unwillingly.

  “That would be…nice,” he answered, sounding uncharacteristically subdued. Perhaps he had also heard about his mother. Some people didn’t know how to act around mourners, feeling uncomfortable.

  He let Neel lead the way to the eating area and seat himself before Rajan joined him.

  They sat in a strained silence for a few minutes until Mrs Mehra brought in the tea service, laid it out then returned to the kitchen. They each fixed their drinks, then Neel broke the quiet.

  “Everyone’s wondering where you are, you know. You should probably check in with someone.”

  Rajan frowned. He hadn’t really thought about that, but he guessed having been away for two nights wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. He felt a twinge of guilt for worrying people, even though at the time he’d really just needed some solitude.

  “I…I suppose you’re right. I didn’t really plan to come here and stay, but after the funeral, I was tired and scared and—”

  “Scared?” Neel looked surprised. “Scared of what?”

  Rajan shrugged impatiently. “Oh, well, you know…”

  “No, I don’t know.”

  The man was irritating. How Ajay put up with him Rajan had no idea. His irritation, coupled with the pent-up worries he’d been carrying, spilt over onto the hapless Neel. “Well, if you must know, I have a stalker, and whoever it is, they want me to marry my girlfriend and their messages were getting really frightening.” He sat back, starting to feel a little more comfortable as he unburdened himself. “They have all these details about my life that no one should know, so it’s either someone really close to me who has an evil side I don’t know about, or it’s a deranged stranger who is watching my every move.”

  Neel looked truly shocked and horrified for him. Rajan took a sip of his tea before finishing, “Either way, I don’t even feel safe in my own place anymore, or trust anyone around me. Then with Maa dying…” Those damn tears started building in the back of his throat yet again, and he fought to keep his composure. “Anyway, I just had to get away from it all. You know? Feel safe somewhere so I could get some fucking rest. Excuse my language.

  And Ajay had offered to put me up back when it was just work that was stressing me out, so”—he shrugged—“here I am. But I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I guess I’ll need to go back today. I’m probably overstaying my welcome here, too.”

  Mrs Mehra came in just in time to overhear the last part because she immediately filled the gap in the conversation. “Beg your pardon, Master Malik, but you are welcome here for as long as you like. Master Singh was very clear on that.” She set down their breakfasts and gave Neel a brief glare, as if blaming him for the turn in the conversation.

  “Thank you for breakfast,” he told her, and Neel added his thanks as she was leaving the room.

  “I’m so very sorry, Rajan.” Neel’s condolences were among hundreds that Rajan had heard over the past several days, but they were among the most sincere sounding. The pain brimming in the man’s eyes was heartfelt and real.

  “Thank you.” Rajan offered Ajay’s friend a smile, starting to see that beneath the loud, brash cricket player there was a caring individual. He should have given Ajay more credit for having people around him who were truly good human beings.

  “You know, I really have to go.” Neel stood abruptly and Rajan’s smile dropped.

  “Nothing to do with…you know. It just occurred to me that I have something I really need to do, and it can’t wait.” He walked partway across the room. “For what it’s worth? I think that if you feel good about being here, that you should stay. Just call a few people and let them know you’re fine and you’re safe. I think they’re just worried about you in your grief. You know?”

  Rajan relaxed. Neel had a good point. He didn’t need to go rushing off. He would give his father and maybe Mrs Kapoor or Beni a call and tell them he just needed a bit of time to get his head straight. “Thanks, Neel. That’s actually a really good point. I just might do that.”

  “Good.” Neel shifted restlessly.

  Rajan didn’t want to distract the man any longer from what he urgently needed to take care of. “If you need to go, go on ahead. No problem. I’m not offended. Thanks for listening.

  Now I know why Ajay values your friendship so highly.”

  Neel gave him a fleeting smile. “Ditto.” He raised his hand in a half wave then turned and strode out of sight. A moment later, the front door opened and closed as he left the house.

  Rajan quickly ate a few bites and drank his tea. He wanted to get to those phone calls so people wouldn’t be worrying about him anymore.

  He rose and headed upstairs to get his phone. Looking around his room, he began to feel a bit claustrophobic. It was a lovely room, but he suddenly had the urge to go back over to Ajay’s suite. He struggled with the decision, then gave himself a mental smack and headed back downstairs. Knowing that Mrs Mehra was somewhere in the house, though, he prowled around looking for a bit of privacy and ended up in what looked to be Ajay’s study.

  On a whim, he stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the city. There was a rug to one side that looked as though Ajay might use it for the meditation Rajan remembered he regularly practised. There was also a cushioned chaise longue, and he chose to sit there, though he didn’t lay back.

  When he turned on his phone, the sheer number of voicemails and texts almost sent him spinning back into a panic. Forcibly disregarding them, he went instead to his contacts and called his father’s cell phone.

  “Rajan?”

  “Hello…Father.” Damn, he really didn’t know what to call him, Bansi or Father or…

  “Are you all right? Nobody seems to know where you are.”

  “I’m fine. Better. I just needed to get away, and I didn’t stop to think that people would be concerned.”

  “I’m so glad to hear from you.” The sheer relief in his father’s voice kicked his guilt up a notch. “Are you at Karishma’s? You know, I don’t have to stay here if you would rather have your house to yourself again. I can stay at Satvika’s, or even a hotel—”

  “No,” Rajan interrupted, now feeling really bad. “That’s not it at all. I was just overwhelmed and there are other issues…” He really didn’t want to get into the thing about the messages, and he certainly didn’t want Bansi to know about how paper-thin his relationship with Karishma was, especially now that…

  Oh God…did that mean he’d cheated on her last night?

  “I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll call again soon.”

  “What other issues? You know I’m a good listener…and I’d like to spend some time with you too. Apart from all of the ceremonial obligations.”

  “I know,” he rushed to assure him, just wanting to get the call over with for now.

  “Maybe soon. But I need to go.”

  “All right. Keep in touch.”

  They said their goodbyes and Rajan was left holding the phone in his hand, thinking about the next call he had to make.

  Before he could psych himself out, he dialled. It was answered almost before the first ring.

  “What the hell, Raji? Where have you been?”

  He winced. “Hello, Karishma. Look, I’m sorry—”

  “We’ve all been worried sick! Beni found your car near his office, but you just took off, didn’t tell anyone where you were going. Not even your father. Fuck that, not even me!”

  He si
ghed but tried to do it quietly. “I need to ask you something important. And promise you won’t get mad.”

  She gave a sharp laugh. “Oh, that tells me right there I’m not going to like this, but go ahead.”

  “Are we together together? Or just for the press?”

  Silence on the other end.

  “Karishma?”

  “I heard you. Who is she?”

  “There is no ‘she’,”—he was an utter bastard using semantics like that—“I just wanted to know.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Raji. I hope you haven’t done anything stupid.”

  Me either. “Please just answer the question.” He lay back on the chaise, losing steam by the minute.

  “They’re opposite sides of the same coin. Okay, so we aren’t fucking, we aren’t in love” —she drew out the word mockingly—“and yeah, all else being equal, if we were just two ordinary people, we’d be friends…maybe…and nothing more. Sorry, but you just don’t do it for me. But we’re a package deal, yeah? The media loves us, the fans love us together, and so we’re stuck. If one of us starts seeing someone else, it messes up the whole thing. So you’d better tell me right now, Rajan Malik. Are you seeing another woman? Do we have to get Beni involved in some kind of damage control?”

  When he didn’t reply immediately, she changed her tactics and her tone softened. “I know you’re grieving and that makes people do crazy things. So I understand if you needed something from someone that you couldn’t get from me. But Raji, you can’t just throw away all we’ve built. And I don’t care how careful you think you are. These things always get out.”

  “It’s not going to get out.” Rajan closed his eyes, not believing he’d let that slip.

  Karishma was quiet for a long moment. “I know you think that. But people always talk.

 

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