Seducing Anjali

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Seducing Anjali Page 6

by Diana Persaud


  Knowing he wouldn’t go away until he saw her in the dress, she crossed her arms over her chest and opened the door. She spun slowly, showing off the dress. In the mirror’s reflection, she saw him step into the dressing room and lock the door behind him.

  “Tom, what are you doing?” she whispered, turning around. “You can’t be in here with me.”

  Tom grinned mischievously. His eyes lingered on her chest and her nipples seemed to protrude even more. His gaze wandered along her waist and hips. She could imagine him wondering what she was wearing under her dress.

  Her cheeks burned.

  “I can warm you up, Anjali,” he offered.

  Warm me up? My body is already on fire.

  In the small room, his scent surrounded her and soon she was enveloped in his arms.

  “My sexy Anjali,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

  His mouth was hot and demanding.

  She couldn’t resist.

  Didn’t resist, not when he nibbled on her ear. Or kissed his way down her neck.

  Not even when he fiddled with the clasp at her neck and peeled down her top, exposing her breasts.

  “I never knew shopping with a woman could be so…rewarding,” he whispered.

  She glanced up to find him gazing at her, an odd look on his face.

  “Tom?”

  “Will you let me buy this dress for you, Anjali?”

  Before she could answer, a sharp rap interrupted them.

  “Men are not allowed in these dressing rooms. Leave right now before I call Mall Security,” the Saleswoman demanded before marching off.

  Her stomach plummeted as panic set in.

  “Uh, oh. Busted,” he said.

  The sheepish look on his face eased her worry. He gave her a quick kiss then left before Mall Security arrived.

  Anjali closed the dressing room door and held the top against her skin.

  Dare I wear this in public?

  She recalled the way Tom seemed mesmerized before he undressed her.

  She found the price tag.

  Yikes.

  She smiled dreamily at her reflection.

  I wonder what he’ll do the next time he sees me in this dress?

  Chapter Seven

  “I should warn you, Tom. Janice is a little upset that you decided to bring a date,” Andy said, adjusting his tie. “Is this thing on right? It’s choking me.”

  Tom and Andy stood at the altar, waiting for Janice.

  “It looks fine. Why does she care all of a sudden?”

  He didn’t bother disguising the irritation in his voice.

  “It messes up her seating arrangement. You know…at the reception.”

  Andy loosened his tie and tried again.

  “I swear she spent months working on just the seating.”

  He raised a brow.

  “Should I send her home?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s plenty of room,” Andy assured him. He smirked then added, “Besides, I want to see what your woman does when it’s time to catch the bouquet.”

  Fuck.

  “I didn’t think about that.”

  He glanced at the pew. Anjali gave him an odd look. Realizing he was frowning, he forced a smile and waved. She returned his smile and wave.

  “She’s your date?” Andy asked. “She’s stunning.”

  He didn’t like the way Andy responded to Anjali. It made him think violent thoughts about his best friend.

  “And you’re getting married,” he replied stiffly.

  Andy chuckled and slapped him on the back.

  “You sound jealous, Tom.”

  Is that what I am? Jealous?

  He shook his head.

  “I’m not interested in marriage, remember?”

  “If you want to keep her, you might have to consider it,” Andy advised.

  Andy handed him a small ring box. He shoved it in his pocket, unsure how to respond.

  The pianist began playing a soft, romantic tune and he took his spot beside Andy.

  As the first bridesmaid made her way down the aisle, he glanced at Anjali. Another man was sitting next to her, his arm strategically placed along the top of the pew behind her. His expensive tailored suit suggested money.

  His hands curled into fists and he clenched his jaw. His heart pumped rapidly in his chest.

  It was a mistake to bring her here.

  Another bridesmaid walked down the aisle. He felt an odd pressure in his head.

  How am I going to get her to leave?

  He clasped his hands in front of him and took deep breaths to calm himself.

  The Maid of Honor walked down the aisle.

  What if she leaves with him?

  His shoulders tensed. His fists clenched tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

  The pianist played “Here Comes the Bride,” and everyone stood. His eyes immediately found Anjali. She winked and the tension seemed to melt out of his body. He gazed at Anjali as she turned to focus on Janice walking down the aisle.

  He tuned out the Pastor as he droned on about the sanctity of marriage. He returned the wedding ring to Andy and tried valiantly not to roll his eyes when Janice vowed to be faithful. At last, the newlyweds kissed and everyone clapped.

  As close friends and family surrounded the couple to congratulate them, he made his way toward Anjali.

  “Guests are going to the Reception Hall across from the church. I have to stay until she’s tired of taking photographs.”

  “Do you want me to wait for you?” Anjali asked.

  “Yes.”

  The wedding photographer led them outside and posed the party in front of a flowering crepe myrtle. The tiny pink blossoms swayed gently. He plastered a fake smile on his face until his cheeks ached, hoping each photo taken would be the last.

  Finally, Janice decided she had enough photographs to commemorate her special day. She dismissed the photographer so he could set up in the Reception Hall.

  He kept his face neutral as Janice marched up to him.

  “Tommy, you need to escort Cherry into the Reception Hall,” Janice said, her voice grating on his nerves.

  Anjali shrugged.

  “It’s all right, I’ll see you later,” Anjali replied.

  His eyes were glued to Anjali as she walked away.

  “She could stand to lose a few pounds,” Janice remarked snidely.

  “I prefer a woman with curves,” he replied.

  Janice’s eyes narrowed at his remark and her lips pressed into a thin line.

  Before she could respond with a scathing insult, Andy suggested they join their guests.

  He offered his arm to Cherry, the Maid of Honor, and they followed the other bridesmaids and groomsmen into the Reception Hall.

  Someone had dimmed the main lights in the Reception Hall and lit the candles on each table.

  He escorted her to the large table at the front of the room designated for the Wedding Party and left her there. He crossed the dance floor and waded through a sea of round tables as he made his way to the back of the room.

  He pulled out the chair beside Anjali and sat.

  “Aren’t you supposed to sit with the rest of the Wedding Party?” Anjali asked.

  He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently.

  “It would be rude of me to let you sit alone, especially since you don’t know anyone here.”

  I don’t want that bastard to think you’re available or he’ll use every trick he knows to get you into his bed.

  “I’m sorry she put you here by yourself.”

  He spotted three empty places where Janice could have seated her.

  “I’m not surprised,” she said. “Are you?”

  He shook his head.

  The Wedding Planner announced the Newlyweds and they entered the room to loud applause. Once the guests settled down, the band started playing and the couple danced their first dance.

  He stayed with her through dinner, reluctantly leaving her si
de when he had to give his toast.

  The band played another song and several guests headed to the dance floor.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked.

  “I would love to.”

  She slipped her hand in his and he led her to the dance floor. Her soft palm nestled perfectly in his hand. His hand settled on her back and he led her on a slow waltz. His hand drifted lower, caressing her back. The slow waltz was replaced by faster song and he twirled her around. Her skirt swirled up. His hand clamped down, landing on her bottom, keeping her skirt from exposing her. He danced her into a corner, keeping a firm grip on her bottom.

  Her face was flushed.

  “I think it’s safe to let go of my skirt now,” she said in a breathless voice.

  He gave her bottom a gentle squeeze before his hand returned to the small of her back.

  “I’ll get us a drink. Be right back.”

  While waiting in line to get some punch, Cherry approached him.

  “Hi, Tommy,” she said, pushing her chest out, hoping her exposed flesh would get his attention.

  “Cherry,” he replied with a polite nod.

  She glanced over his shoulder then stepped closer. On her tiptoes, she whispered in his ear, “How about a quickie while your date is busy with her friend?”

  Date busy with her friend? What friend?

  He frowned and pushed her away.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

  Tailored Suit was standing next to Anjali. She laughed at his joke.

  “Sir? Would you like a drink?”

  “Two,” he replied without taking his eyes off Anjali and Tailored Suit.

  He took the drinks and hurried back to Anjali, trying not to spill her drink. As he approached, she turned and smiled.

  “Here’s your drink, Anjali.”

  She took the delicate crystal cup and took a sip. He slipped his hand possessively around her waist, silently challenging Tailored Suit.

  Tailored Suit nodded slightly then focused on Anjali.

  “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  When he was out of earshot, she said, “What did Cherry want?”

  He choked on his punch.

  “Never mind her. What did Tailored Suit want?”

  Confusion lined her face.

  “Oh, you mean, Paul?” She nodded in Tailored Suit’s direction. “He was just being friendly.”

  “Friendly?” He snorted. “He wants you in his bed.”

  She seemed genuinely surprised. She glanced at Tailored Suit, as if contemplating his potential.

  “He’s obviously rich. He could provide for you.” Somehow he managed to keep his voice neutral.

  She held his gaze.

  “I can provide for myself.” She tipped her head up, studying him. “I never expected you to be one of those men who confused money for love.”

  “Janice seems to think money is love.”

  “She’s a fool. I’m not.”

  “Then I’m sure you wouldn’t confuse sex with love.”

  She jerked away from him.

  “If it’s just sex you want, then perhaps you should accept Cherry’s offer.”

  Startled by her response, he remained silent as she thrust the cup against his chest. He grasped the cup as she pushed past him. He stood alone, clutching two glass cups, feeling like a fish out of water. His eyes followed her as she cut through the dance floor.

  A man approached her. She nodded and stepped into his arms.

  He gripped the cups as a stranger embraced Anjali. He marched toward a table and set down the empty glasses. He turned, scanning the crowd.

  Cherry winked.

  Ignoring her, he searched for Anjali. He found her swaying to a soft, romantic tune.

  He strode over to them. As if they sensed his black mood, couples spun out of his way.

  “May I cut in?”

  His gruff voice was enough of a warning to the stranger and he bowed out.

  Thin lips replaced her smile and her shoulders became tense.

  “You know damn well I’m not interested in Cherry.”

  “Someone else then?” she asked.

  One half of a couple bumped into her, sending her crashing into him. Seizing the opportunity, his arms wrapped around her.

  “Haven’t I made myself clear?”

  As her lips parted to deny him, he took advantage, crushing her lips against his. Soft lips opened to him, returning his kiss with rising passion. Timid fingers gripped his lapels, keeping him close.

  Another couple bumped into them, forcing him to release her captive mouth.

  The music ended and they made their way back to their seats.

  When Janice announced it was time to catch her bouquet, his stomach clenched and felt heavy, as if he had swallowed a large stone and it had suddenly dropped into the pit of his stomach. His palms were sweaty and his tie was uncomfortably tight. He tugged at the silk noose around his neck.

  What if she catches it?

  Single women rushed to the dance floor. They gathered into a small group on one side. Janice stood several feet away from them, holding her bouquet.

  “Are-aren’t you going to join them?” he croaked.

  “No. It’s only fun if you know the bride personally.”

  She remained standing beside him and he slipped an arm around her waist.

  Oh, thank goodness.

  He felt almost giddy with relief.

  Janice stared at Anjali, her face a mask. With a forced smile, she turned her back to her friends and tossed the bouquet. There was a flurry of hair, silk and slender arms as the women rushed to catch the bouquet. One of the bridesmaids caught the bouquet and she held it up triumphantly as people clapped and cheered.

  Janice sat on a chair while her husband removed her garter. Single men made their way to the dance floor.

  “Aren’t you going to catch her garter?” Anjali asked.

  “The only garter I’m interested in is yours,” he said.

  The blatant desire in her eyes nearly drove him to his knees.

  “I can’t wait to get you alone so I can check.”

  Her lips parted slightly and her eyes dilated.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested.

  She nodded and soon they were on their way home.

  Chapter Eight

  Tom pulled into his driveway and parked his car. By the time she unbuckled her seat belt, he had run around to her side and held her door open. He extended his hand and she slipped her hand in his.

  She stepped out of his car and found herself against the back door. Tom’s body was pressed against hers. She trembled with anticipation. She closed her eyes, waiting to feel his mouth against hers.

  Hot.

  Impatient.

  Demanding.

  “I can’t wait to finish what we started in that dressing room.” His voice was thick with desire.

  Her knees felt weak and she wasn’t sure she could make it to her house.

  “It’s a shame we were interrupted,” he said.

  His eyes promised a long night of guilty pleasures.

  Don’t over think this. Just enjoy what he’s offering.

  “And if we hadn’t been interrupted?” she challenged.

  He stepped back and shut the car door.

  “Come inside and I’ll show you,” he dared.

  She stepped into his foyer and set her purse on the table. He locked the door and stepped behind her. His fingers grazed her bare shoulder, a featherlight caress that sent shivers through her body. In the mirror, she saw his head dip. Hot lips left searing kisses along her shoulder.

  He caught her reflection in the mirror. Full lips, slightly parted, yearning to be claimed. Smoldering eyes, full of lust. Blood rushed to his groin.

  Reaching up, he pulled the pins from her hair, one by one. Her hair fell past her shoulders. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of gardenias. Wrapping one hand around her waist to keep her still, he slid
the other down her leg. He tugged up her dress, caressing her bare thigh.

  “I can’t decide whether to take it off or leave it on,” he whispered.

  He turned her around, maneuvering her until her back was pressed against the wall. He nibbled her neck, kissing and sucking his way along her tender skin.

  Marking her.

  Her breasts were heavy, her nipples tight against her bra. She arched her back, needing relief, wanting to feel his body against hers.

  He fumbled with the clasp. Impatient, she pushed his hands away and undid the clasps. The top slid down, soft fabric caressing her breasts before leaving them exposed. Hot lips fastened to her nipples and his tongue flicked against it.

  Caramel colored skin, sweet yet spicy, sent his taste buds reeling. Her fingers wove through his hair, pulling him closer. She whimpered when he released her nipple, sighing as his mouth latched on to the other one. He sucked harder, alternating between biting and flicking his tongue against her sensitive bud.

  Stubble grazed her breasts, sending a flood of wetness between her legs.

  Slender fingers gripped his head, forcing his mouth to take more of her breast.

  Anything for my Anjali.

  Ignoring the throbbing of his cock, his hands slid down her legs.

  Cold air chilled her wet nipples as he dropped to his knees. He maintained eye contact as his hands slid up her thighs, lifting her dress out of the way. She felt his face as he pressed against her panties, his lips moving against her as he sought her clit.

  She held her breath as impatient fingers pulled wet panties down her legs. He left a trail of kisses along her calf and thighs as he settled her leg over his shoulder.

  Eagerly she waited, holding her breath until she felt his fingers spreading her. She gasped when his tongue flicked against her clitoris.

  “Mmm. Tastes like honey.”

  His husky voice vibrated against her sensitive skin. Her nails dug into his head, forcing his tongue against her clit.

  He lapped at her hungrily, his tongue sending spirals of pleasure throughout her body. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, enjoying the sensation of his tongue and mouth licking and sucking her intimately.

  “Tommy, please,” she begged.

  Her hands flailed at the bare wall, needing something to hold on to as the tension built. Her legs began to shake and she gripped his hair. She yanked his head away from her.

 

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