The motorbike roars like a beast when Ajaz kick-starts it. He winks at me through his helmet making my mouth go dry. It has to be sinful to look this hot! “Get on, babes.”
I manage to hide the quiver in my legs as I get on behind him, my legs straddling his gorgeous butt in a most intimate manner. I immediately regret my decision. He’s too close. His warmth is heating me up in all sorts of places. Kill me already!
We take off at cruising speed. He has his hands on the bike handle, mine are around his firm waist, my fingers heating against his firm muscles under the soft material of his shirt. His essence is drawing me into him like a hypnotised moth. I want him bad and I already know I’m not going to deny where this leads. Even if my heart is at stake.
Since we’re on the bike, our ride is faster and we ease through the traffic. He surprises me by taking me out for dinner. Under the softened lights of the restaurant, I can see he’s wearing a black button down shirt that’s open at the chest. I feel raw hunger.
The restaurant has decided against loud music for the New Year’s Eve and instead has candles gracing intimate tables. Several couples are dancing to soft music on the dance floor. It’s the ultimate romantic dinner date a girl could ask for. Did I ask for this?
We order our food, then Ajaz is standing up, his palm toward me. “Would you like to dance with me?”
I can’t help but smile. This is perfection so far. I place my hand in his. As soon as our skins touch, we’re zapped with what can only be described as a lightning bolt. It’s sharp, not enough to knock our socks off but enough to have us staring at each other is surprise.
We both felt it? Is that good? Why didn’t it happen before?
He looks as shaken as me. Unknown emotions are rising to the forefront, pushing us towards each other with a force we can’t deny. This feels destined.
I bite down on my lip. He refuses to comment on it, instead choosing to lead me to the dance floor. He turns me in his arms, hands on my back, chin resting against the side of my head, thighs touching but not quite. My palms are flat against his solid chest, my cheek resting against his heart. I revel in the sound of his heartbeat, it makes me feel complete.
We sway as one to the beat of our own music. No words can express what I feel for Ajaz. It overwhelms me with a need stronger than ever before. A need to possess, to be possessed, to be together for eternity.
What am I even thinking? I’m only eighteen.
The D.J. takes this moment to announce the imminent arrival of the New Year. Ajaz lets me go but keeps an arm around my waist as the lights come on.
10..9..8..7..6..5..4..3..2..1..HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Ajaz turns me in his arms again, a teasing smile playing at his lips. “Happy New Year, Prish.”
It sounds like, ‘You’re mine, Prish.’ I smile up at him, expecting him to kiss my cheek. Instead he swoops down and captures my lips in the most explosive kiss ever.
Pure rapture bursts through every nerve, vein and cell in my body. Propriety demands we maintain respectable distance. But propriety said a polite goodbye and dashed through the windows for us tonight.
I’m lost in him as he is in me. My arms are around his neck, I’m on my toes to get as close to him as possible. His taste is exotic and sinful and I want it all. I ride high on this intoxicating engine of desire, strangely it’s all me, my senses, my emotions, there is no other presence, no ice, no chill.
Ajaz has enough sense left in him to pull us out of the smashing kiss. Good, because the manager is so scandalized that he’s about to swoon. I’m flustered. I know I’m blushing and want to get the hell out of this restaurant. What if someone who knows my family has seen me? What if my parents hear about this?
Ajaz can sense my discomfort. He pays the bill and has me out in minutes. We aren’t far from the beach so we wordlessly start towards it, holding hands.
The rush there is killing. We get pushed, jostled, almost manhandled but Ajaz protects me on all sides with his large frame. We break through to the part where it’s isolated and cosy. We don’t go into the shadows that are already occupied by lovers. We stay under the dim lights reaching from the streets. They wash out the beauty of the night sky which is a pity.
Ajaz stops walking and so do I. There’s no place to sit other than the sand which is completely trashed so we keep standing. As if it’s the most casual thing to do in the world, he takes one of my hands and hooks my finger in a loop of his jeans at his waist. It’s his way of keeping me beside him, like I’m some child who could wander away. The thought makes me sulk. Now who’s being childish?
He surprises me by reaching in his pockets for a cigarette and lighting it up with a lighter. I gape at him. I had no idea he smokes! Then it hits me. I don’t know him at all. And yet I know the taste of his lips, his mouth, his tongue.
I make a mental note to try and understand my moral compass. I’m kissing this boy like there’s no tomorrow. What’s wrong with me?
The chill that creeps up my legs is familiar. Terror places a hand over my heart. I haven’t felt it since last year when I was with Ajaz and I’m feeling it again now. Why?
I try to distract myself from the discomfort. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
Ajaz looks at me surprised then at his cigarette. “You didn’t? I suppose there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
I nod, standing there looking like a fool with one finger looped around his jeans. The iciness is too distracting. Because I’m not doing anything else, I’m able to focus on it completely. It feels like I’ve stepped into a batch of ice that is slowly turning me into an ice sculpture. It’s also sending strange sensations across my body. I think I’m feeling aroused.
Ajaz feels it too. He shifts uncomfortably next to me, taking a drag from his cigarette. All of a sudden, he flicks it down and stamps on it. When he turns to me, his eyes have raw desire in them. I can tell my face is all dewy, my eye lids heavy, my lips plumper and parted in invitation.
“Let’s get out of here,” he mutters, taking my hand in his and making way to the parking for his motorbike.
We’re on it and zooming away. He’s taking me to the apartment he shares with his brother. I don’t object. I just need something from him. I feel drunk but I’m not. We get off the bike holding hands. His are damp with the heat from his body, mine from the chill within.
The hallways of his building are dimly lit and empty. We reach his apartment, he fumbles for his key. When he opens the door, we spill through, pouncing on each other before it shuts behind us.
Ajaz has me pressed against a wall. His fingers are in my hair holding my head still. He devours me with his mouth, I’m doing the same to him. I have this wild, inexplicable need to touch him everywhere. The heat wafting from him sizzles as soon as it touches my skin. We’re fire and ice.
He lifts one of my legs so that it settles against the side of his waist. It gives him better access to my centre. I hold on to him, my fingers tugging at his waist belt. I have no idea what I’m doing but I do it anyway.
I can feel him rock hard between my legs, it makes me moan. My eyes open to drink in his flushed features. His widen in disbelief. He pauses, his lips breaking contact with mine. “Prish,” he breathes.
“What?” I pant.
“You’re eyes,” he whispers in awe, “You’re eyes are almost purple.”
I blink at him. Once. Twice. Then I come to my senses. This is not me! I push away from him, staggering as I almost lose balance. Get out, get out! Whatever you are, get out!
“Babes, are you all right?”
I manage a nod even as I walk towards his couch on unsteady legs. Enjoy what I give you, pet. It’ll make everything so much better!
Ajaz has followed me and I turn to him once again. He is immediately entranced by me. It’s almost like being captured by invisible waves of lust. He once again takes me in his arms, pouring his desire into a searing kiss.
The back of my knees hit the couch and I fall on it, taking him with
me, our tongues locked. His hands explore my body, moving to cover my breasts with desperation. I push up towards him, he groans. I have no idea what I need from him but his weight on me feels good. He needs me as I need him. He’s so hot and I’m so cold.
My hands make a play at the buttons of his shirt. I manage to open a couple, my fingers making contact with is bare skin.
“Fuck!” he yells out as if singed. It startles us both. I had no idea a mere touch can affect someone to this extent.
We stare at each other in shock. He just remains lying on top of me, supporting his weight on his elbows. I see concern in his eyes. He knows something’s not right. He can sense this isn’t me. I can sense it too.
“Prish, I think we should stop.”
I nod but I can’t help the icy bolt coursing through me that allows a moan to escape my softened lips. I push my lower body up to feel the intimate contact between us. He almost gives in. Almost.
In the next instant, Ajaz rolls off me and falls to the floor beside me. He’s panting as if he’s run a marathon. I lie with my eyes closed feeling the cold rapidly dissipate. I’m way too embarrassed to face him so I sit up quickly to straighten my clothes.
He’s closed his eyes but opens them to take in my red nose and flustered state. And then he laughs.
I’m in tears, embarrassed to bits. I hide my face in my palms. “Ajaz, this isn’t funny!”
He sits up on the floor near my legs. He reaches up to draw my hands in his. “It’s okay. We didn’t do anything.”
“I…I don’t know what came over me.”
“Shh,” he places his finger at my lips. “This is us, this is the way we feel about each other. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Let’s not make it more than it is, okay?”
He makes sense so I nod. But why did he stop? Doesn’t he find me attractive?
“You’re damn hot, babes but let’s take this slow,” he says once again having read my mind. “Come on, I have to get you home.”
He stands up, pulling me up against his chest. “I want to remember you, I want you to remember me.” He lays a chaste kiss on my forehead. “We’ll get there.”
The ride home is more intimate than before. We’ve shared more kisses, we’ve seen each other’s faces etched with raw passion and we’ve emerged out of the haze with dignity. I nuzzle at his neck because I feel close to him. I can’t ever forget him now. Ajaz places his hand over mine at his waist whenever he can. It’s his way of telling me, we’re going to be okay. Yes, we will.
* * *
Six
Dare to dream.
The months that followed were the best ones of my life. Ajaz and I began dating regularly, trying to get to know each other. Our favourite was the night-time talks. He’d ring me late, when he was sure all were asleep. Those were the days of landlines so I’d sneak into the living room, slide down the wall near the phone and talk to him. We’d spend an average of three to four hours on the phone right into early dawn.
It wasn’t all words, it was more of ‘hmms’ and ‘umms’, listening to the music he put on for me, sounds of night life at his end and mine, the rustle of clothing, street dogs barking or howling in the distance, cars passing by and the waves. It was the most romantic experience of my life.
But we had to keep our relationship under wraps as our families weren’t going to be in favour of us dating.
Why? Well, we belonged to different faiths. Ajaz practises Islam, I was a born Hindu. I don’t practise any religion as diligently as I should. I’m one of those rare breeds that tend to question everything that has to do with anything before adapting it. I guess it’s called being an Atheist but that isn’t an accepted explanation by most in this world. So I just keep my head down and attend whatever I’m expected to.
Will this be an issue with Ajaz? I had no idea. We weren’t that far gone in our relationship for such a discussion to come up front. I guess I wasn’t even sure if we’re dating exclusively. I have no idea what he does when he’s not with me, I haven’t met his friends. He could have three more girlfriends on the sly and I wouldn’t have known.
Only I would. Ajaz and I were mentally more connected than ever before. I could sense him more than ever before. Could he sense me too? If he did, he wasn’t letting me know.
For the time being, I was content in making excuses and sneaking off to meet him. He was doing his Masters in business management and also helping out one of his older brothers with his construction business. Whenever his brother wasn’t in town, he took me on a site visit. It was like a field trip for me. Architecture fascinated me as I was aiming to be an architect. These visits were helped in my understanding of spatial perceptions.
~ ~ ~
Memories – Prisha – 1991.
Ajaz is watching me with a smile on his lips. I have the grace to blush or let my nose go red. He has that effect on me. One look and I’m putty. He wants me, that knowledge emboldens me with newfound confidence.
What does he see in me? I’m not a bombshell beauty. He can easily get one but he prefers me, Prisha Sanghvi, an ordinary looking girl.
Ajaz doesn’t agree. He thinks I’m extremely attractive with my pert and cute features. He says I have the most inviting, sensuous lips he’s ever seen. And the most haunting, wide eyes. He doesn’t mention their ability to turn purple. All things aside, he loves the way I fit in his arms.
Well, who am I to disagree? I got a hot boyfriend and I’m the envy of all the girls in my gang. Especially when I swing off riding pillion behind him. Sigh. Life is exciting.
The site we’re at is a high rise. The view is astonishing, overseeing the Arabian Sea. The workers are taking a lunch break so we’re alone in a gigantic open room.
Ajaz snatches the moment to pull me into his arms. I link mine around his neck, going willingly into his kiss. As always, it burns me, melting me to the core. Luckily, I don’t feel that icy arousal state that makes me throw caution to the winds.
I could live like this forever. He traces a finger across my jaw following it with small, heated kisses. “I have something for you.”
His surprises delight me. He’s being spoiling me with simple gifts that I tend to hang on to like a token of his affection for me. It’s been four months but we haven’t named our feelings for each other.
I never buy him anything. I’m not working and I can’t splurge the monthly allowance I get from my parents on him. I hardly have enough to make it to and fro from college. But I’ve finally saved enough for one ordinary gift that I’m planning to give on his birthday which is another month away.
He gifts me a charm bracelet this time. It’s expensive, fashioned out of eighteen carat gold. When I hesitate, he insists on putting it on my wrist himself.
The bracelet suits my tiny wrist. Stars, crescents, horse-shoes, it has it all. I smile admiring their jingle. I know I can’t wear it always. Saumya would ask all sorts of questions about it.
“It looks nice on you,” Ajaz says quietly. I look up at him. He’s sounding more emotional than usual. I place my palm against his cheek. He takes it and kisses my fingers. “Prish, I..I…” My heart constricts. Is he going to say what I want to hear from him? Much to my disappointment, he hesitates and looks away. “Come on, let’s take you home.”
And just like that, Ajaz manages to bring me back to Earth.
~ ~ ~
Evenings with Nik are in the past. Since that close encounter of the powerful kind between us on New Year’s Eve, we’re avoiding each other in private.
He’s still with Priya. I think he realises being close to me can spell damage to our friendship. Like me, he doesn’t want to lose that. I haven’t told him about Ajaz. We run in different circles outside of our neighbourhood, so it’s unlikely my neighbourhood friends know about Ajaz.
Ideally, I should tell Nik. I don’t know why I haven’t yet.
The doorbell rings, I open it to find Nik standing there. After months of avoiding a confrontation, he’s finally here. I let h
im in before slumping on a bean bag. He calls out a greeting to my grandmother who’s asking for the identity of the visitor.
“It’s me, Grandma, Nik.” She acknowledges him as he slumps down on the couch.
Teenagers never sit gracefully on couches or bean bags. At least the ones I know don’t. He’s half lying, half sitting watching me with a serious look.
“So who’s he?”
I look at him surprised. He’s seen me with Ajaz. “I like him, we’re friends,” I don’t deny or pretend. I hate dramas. “He’s from Saumya’s friend circle.”
His brow rises. “Little old for you, isn’t he?”
I shrug. “I guess but it doesn’t feel wrong. He’s four years older than me.”
True Rising: Mark of the Defenders Page 6
