by Reet Singh
Aalok felt oddly compelled to justify his choices. 'It gets the bills paid - everyone and their aunts want a portfolio that's as thick as an omnibus and that's fine by me. The more images they want, the more money I make.'
He looked across to where Mohini sat with her chin propped up on folded hands.
'My agent, Sikander, is no help. He loves the fat bonuses he gets and he brings me more and more of the same kind of work. It's rather annoying, but I've only myself to blame. I've let it get out of hand, with the result that I barely have time for what I really enjoy.'
Mohini opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again.
‘What?’ Aalok asked.
‘Nothing. Carry on.’
‘Spit it out,’ he commanded.
‘You’re a horrible story teller. I’m about to fall asleep.’
Aalok snorted. She was lying. She’d been listening with rapt attention. ‘I’m laying out the background. Giving you context.’
She pretended to yawn. ‘Fine. Go ahead.’
Aalok grinned. ‘Don’t worry. It gets frenetic from here on. Sikandar spoke highly of somebody who was desperate for my services.'
He shook his head. 'I wish I hadn't said yes. Now that I think of it, there were cosmic forces at work - it was the first time in forever that I had an open slot - so, obviously, I said sure, bring it on.'
He was about to continue when Mohini held up a hand and whispered 'shush' in a frantic tone. Then he heard it too - a clattering - followed by rustling sounds that seemed to originate from right outside the annexe.
'Ritvik?' Mohini called.
When there was no response, she left Aalok hanging and went to investigate. She was back in under a minute with Tiger in tow.
'It was Tiger,' she said, rather unnecessarily and she sounded disappointed. Her eyes were clouded and she held the animal tightly imprisoned under one arm until the cat protested vocally with a penetrating yowl.
Letting go of her pet, Mohini spoke her thoughts aloud. 'What is taking them so long? Ritvik has been gone hours.'
'Forty-five minutes,' Aalok corrected. 'Long enough for them to have murdered each other, seeing as how they are both raving idiots.'
When Mohini blanched, he threw up his hands. 'Oh, come on! You don't really think they would do that, do you? Kill each other? More likely they've each forgiven the other and are celebrating with some fabulous make-up sex - please don't expect them to emerge out of hiding any time soon.'
'Oh!' Mohini yipped, covering her ears as if to unhear what he'd said.
Aalok snickered. 'Don't tell me ...'
'Stop,' she said. 'You've made your point.'
She plonked down on a rug, grabbed her cat and pretended to be busy grooming its fur. 'You were telling me about your misadventures in Delhi,' she reminded, gruffly.
'Yes,' he said, smirking. 'I was. But then we started speculating on what Ritvik and Tina were up to, and ...'
He winced because a cushion - an intricately embroidered one - landed on a sensitive part of his anatomy. 'Whoa,' he complained. 'Violent - like brother, like sister. Also, you have to stop throwing cushions. Find another sport.'
'Huh! That cushion isn't the same as my brother's powerful left hook.'
'It was a right hook,' Aalok grumbled.
'Are you going to finish your story or do I have to launch a larger missile?'
'You could just ask nicely - I am very susceptible to cordial requests.'
Mohini gave a gusty sigh and folded her hands together in supplication. ‘Please hurry up and finish?’
'Sure. Impatient, aren't you?' and because he couldn't resist pestering her, he walked over to deposit himself by her side. She didn't jump up and rush away, just shifted her bottom a bit so that there was a half foot between them. Turning towards him, she folded her hands again. 'Get on with it, then. And keep it short - I'm dying for a cup of tea.'
'All right. Here goes. So this new client that my agent recommended wanted me to take a million pictures of his very young, very sultry wife. Money no object, he said, and he left to go do whatever it was he usually did with his time.’
‘So far so good, except that the woman got a little too hot to handle. Apparently, the posing and pouting that are an integral part of a photo-shoot got her all turned on. Unfortunately for her, when middle-aged husband stopped by unexpectedly, he found her draped all over me.’
Aalok sighed.
‘The crazy man missed the fact that the situation was repugnant to me and that I was trying to peel her off me. Ignoring my obvious and very vocal dismay, he whipped out a firearm and let her have it between the eyes. So there I was, with a woman bleeding to death in my arms, and looking down the muzzle of a gun, knowing it was my turn next. Luckily...'
'Whoa! Wait! Slow down!'
'Well, you wanted me to make it short and sweet.'
'It's not sweet. It's horrible. What on earth was that all about?'
'Patience, my dear. I'm getting there.' Aalok patted her head in avuncular fashion and got a dark look for his trouble.
'It was sheer bad luck that both my assistants, Shankar and Manju, had medical emergencies and had asked for the day off. Shankar was having a baby and Manju's mother-in-law needed an appendix removed. The presence of any one of them could have prevented the whole mess.'
He shook his head in resignation. 'Murphy's law at its worst. My winsome client decided that it was too boring to pose for photographs and she'd rather have her wicked way with me. If she hadn't been such a single-minded, brazen, misguided siren, she would still be around.'
Mohini shivered. 'What a ghastly thing to happen! How come you're alive? You were talking about looking down muzzles and what not.'
'Yeah, about that - just when things were looking sticky - and I don't mean the blood that seemed to be everywhere ...' he shuddered and Mohini grabbed his hand.
'Stop if you want to. I never imagined...'
'No, no! Let me finish. So, just when I thought it was curtains for me - who should walk in but the real wife.'
Mohini, still hanging on to his hand, turned to him with a frown. 'What do you mean real wife? You just said the first woman was his wife.'
'Apparently not. The second woman was very articulate, had a booming voice, and the content of her monologue left me in no doubt about what was what. The way the man quaked sort of confirmed it for me.’
‘You’re making it sound comical, Aalok,’ Mohini said, tapping him on the back of his hand. ‘But I bet it wasn’t funny while it was happening live.’
‘It was a nightmare. This woman, the real wife, was an angel in disguise for me, because the two-timing man forgot about killing me - he was too busy floundering in the wake of his wife’s considerable, and justified, wrath.'
'Then?'
'Then, the woman decided she wasn’t going to forgive her husband. She let on that he was a habitual offender and that she’d had enough. Before he could grovel for forgiveness, or finish her off as he’d done the other woman, the wife pulled out her own gun and gave it to him full blast.'
'Oh god!'
'I can tell you it wasn't pretty. There was even more blood all over the place and two dead bodies. One of them was still lying at my feet.'
'Oh god!'
'It's all right,' he soothed, throwing an arm about her shoulders. 'I lived to tell the tale, didn't I?'
‘Just barely. It was touch and go.’ She shook her head. ‘How awful it must have been.’
‘It was. But I was very brave and as just reward for my bravery I think I deserve a kiss.’
'You're a wretch,' Mohini said, ‘but you do deserve a kiss for all that you’ve been through. If anyone should kiss you it should be the Mayor. You indirectly helped rid the city of cheating scum, may their souls rest in peace.’
Aalok chuckled. ‘You can’t curse and bless in the same breath.’
‘Says which amendment of the constitution?’ A smile tugged at the corner of Mohini’s mouth.
&n
bsp; Aalok, entranced, swooped to brush his lips across her smile. The casual contact lasted only a second, but the yearning that shot through him shook him.
Mohini appeared stunned too. Her hot gaze met his - and clung. After that the only thing that moved in the room was the cat as it made a mess with a ball of wool.
§§§
Mohini couldn't look away. Aalok's wicked lips had barely grazed hers but the damage was done. She was caught in his spell.
Again.
Forcing herself to breathe, she watched him watching her. When his hand came up and his knuckles caressed her cheek, her eyelids drooped. His thumb stroked her lips and she turned her face into his touch, inhaling his scent and finding it incredibly hard to deny the desire that consumed her.
His hands moved to tangle in her hair, and she allowed him to tug her closer. When his breath fanned her face, she met him halfway, reaching for him with a single-minded commitment.
She couldn't ignore his recent injury, so she angled her head to avoid mauling the wounded part of him. He seemed recovered - at least the enthusiasm with which he responded to her kiss indicated that he wasn't feeling any discomfort.
Quite the contrary, he seemed to be all guns blazing - his tongue, for one, made forays that caused her some serious dizziness. His hands were busy on their own exploration, and Mohini thrilled when he found her breast. Her head fell back and she arched into his caress.
His mouth followed the trail of his fingers, but the cotton of her kurta prevented the intimacy she craved. The need to feel him skin-on-skin was paramount. With a moan she pulled back, dragged off the barrier, unfastened her bra, and slammed her body back into contact with his.
'Wild,' he murmured into her neck, licking the pulse that thundered in response. 'Hang on there. We're going to take it nice and slow.' She protested when he moved away. Cool air from the lazy ceiling fan played over heated skin and had her digging her fingers into his back to keep him close.
'Easy,' he soothed, as he stripped off his T-shirt.
He laid her down gently on the rug and then joined her, claiming her lips again, and covering her body with his. She threw her legs around him and was gratified when he groaned.
His mouth traveled slowly over her body, stopping now and then to nip and taste, so that it was impossible to think of anything but the glittering sensations he evoked. It came as quite a shock when he suddenly stopped, propped himself up on his elbows, and said, 'I can't do this.'
'What?'
How could he stop now? She would die of unrequited lust if he did. Despite the fog in her head she tried to catch his eye, but he was looking to the left of them
'It's your freaking, voyeuristic cat. It's watching us, the shameless thing!'
Mohini turned to look. Tiger was busy sharpening its claws on the legs of an ancient armchair, and showing not the slightest interest in what the humans were up to. 'Oh please,' she said. 'Tiger doesn't care.'
'I'm telling you...'
'Oh, all right!'
Wriggling out from under Aalok, Mohini crawled up to the cat and scratched its neck before picking it up. 'I'm sorry, darling, but we don't want to corrupt you.' Promising Tiger a treat later, she hid behind the jute curtain and opened the screen door. Careful not to expose her partial nakedness, not that she expected anyone to be about, she quickly shooed out the surprised cat.
Latching the door securely, she drew the curtain across, and turned back to where Aalok waited for her with hooded eyes.
'Happy?' She tossed her head and, conscious of his hungry gaze, sauntered towards him, pretending she was in no hurry at all.
Without taking his eyes off her, Aalok peeled off his shorts and her temperature soared to a thousand degrees.
'Not happy yet,' he growled, sitting up and reaching for her.
'We'll have to start over,' Mohini grumbled, kneeling close enough to where she could feel the heat coming off his body in waves. 'I've forgotten where we were.'
'No problem,' he mouthed against her stomach, while his hands busied themselves with removing the last bits of her clothing. 'No problem at all.'
Eventually, of course, all his promises went in vain - they did not take it nice and slow. The only time they did, and it both annoyed and pleased Mohini, was when he paused long enough to drag his wallet out of the pocket of the discarded shorts, and retrieve a condom. Not very long after that, the fever of passion and pleasure took center stage and nothing else mattered except the man who evoked magic when his body moved on hers.
She was at the brink in no time at all, and then tumbled into a vortex where every sense came exquisitely alive until she had no choice but to surrender to rapture.
When they were sated - breathless and trembling in the aftermath, their bodies moist with perspiration - they clung together, limbs entwined and with Aalok's head on her breast.
Mohini, as her senses cleared, began to wonder at the unseemliness of it all. How could she so blithely continue to lie in his arms? She was attracted to the man but she wasn't in a relationship with him - now that they were done messing around, shouldn't she just move away, get dressed and leave?
She should. Flushing, she made to get out from under him when she noticed his even breathing and the suspicious, dead weight of him.
The man hadn't fallen asleep, had he? She nudged him with her knee and got no reaction beyond an incomprehensible mumble that tickled her skin.
There was nothing she could do about it. She was stuck - one arm and both legs were impossibly tangled with the corresponding parts of Aalok, and his head weighed down on her left breast. Of course, she could unceremoniously push him away, but there was something heavy and huge in her heart that wouldn’t let her do that.
Because of her scruples, it took her a good ten minutes to wriggle out from under him - a millimeter at a time - until she was free. Creeping away softly, she picked her clothes up off the floor, grimaced at the wrinkles in the fine cotton, and then dressed in record time.
Her gaze strayed time and again towards the sleeping form, but she firmly quashed a silly yearning that threatened to settle in the pit of her stomach. Resolute, she yanked a thin, embroidered spread from a stash of finished products and covered Aalok's nakedness, keeping her fingers figuratively crossed that her action wouldn't rouse him.
She was almost out of the door when something struck her. Slipping back in on silent feet, she picked up his wallet and took a peek inside. Her face flushed when she found it - his depleted stash of condoms. There was still one left.
Well, too bad, because she wasn't giving him another chance to use it. That had been a one off - okay, a two off - but she wasn't looking for a boy-toy; nor was she hankering for anything in the relationship area.
She didn't want to mislead him into thinking she was available for rolls in the hay. She'd be very firm the next time. Better still, she'd keep her distance so that there never was a next time.
She had half a mind to toss the last remaining condom into the bushes and was surprised when she didn't follow through. Even as her fingers thrust it back into place in his wallet, a voice in her head mocked the potentially duplicitous behavior.
Was she or was she not serious about never getting into bed with him again?
Twelve
Aalok strolled into the kitchen and was treated to the tantalizing aroma of a long overdue lunch. Presiding over the large pot that bubbled invitingly on the stove was his captivating hostess, and before he could collect himself, he walked over, placed a hand on either side of her waist, and kissed her on the part of her that was closest to him - the shell of her left ear.
To say that his actions startled her was putting it mildly - she shrieked, dropped both the ladle and the heavy lid of the pan on his slippered foot, and spun around.
While he hopped about trying to get the hot curry off his toes, Mohini, clearly unsympathetic, flung an oven mitt at him. 'What do you mean by creeping up on me like that?'
'I wasn't creeping,' he manag
ed through clenched teeth.'It's your darn radio. Do you always play it this loud?'
He hobbled over to the freezer and rummaged about for an ice cube to rub over the throbbing foot. If it took him longer than it should have to locate the ice, it was because he needed time to compose himself.
He was astonished at both things – his action and her reaction. Had he really just kissed her as if she was his to kiss? Whatever happened to nonchalance and to being a modern, open-minded fellow. Just because you slept with a woman didn't mean you owned her.
What had he expected - that she would turn around and kiss him back? Fat chance of that - instead she’d looked like she'd rather hit him on the head with a blunt object.