“Thanks.” I push up from my seat, buttoning up my jacket and checking my watch. “I’ll let you run to your fiancée. You’ll make it early.”
“She misses you, Nathan,” Kian utters sadly.
An invisible fist squeezes my heart. “I miss her too.”
Strangely, it’s being her friend that I miss more than pretending to be her fake boyfriend.
***
I stop for a drink at the bar instead of driving to an empty house, whose walls close in on me on the first step inside.
The crowd isn’t as thick as it is on party or event nights. I never partake in any of them, even though discretion is the top of the offerings. Most men who visit the club are married and they don’t even bother removing their rings.
None of them would’ve batted an eye had I fucked the women who frequent the establishment. I never had the urge to participate before. So, I watched all the debauchery. The last one and a half years I was with Iris, I didn’t even do that.
Tonight, I have the freedom. Yet no women out of the few lingering are intriguing me. Immediately, my mind travels to Arya.
She hasn’t stopped plaguing my head since our last meeting a week ago.
The woman is a tempting conundrum.
On one hand, she can be shy as a mouse. On the other, she’s a sexy minx with claws.
As hard as I try to be distant and keep my hands off her, I end up doing the opposite. Her reaction makes it worse when she melts like butter under my touch.
When she boldly told me she wakes up horny in the middle of the night and touches herself, I craved to spread her on my desk and demand she masturbate for me. Glad it didn’t escalate to that because it would’ve ended up with my mouth on her pussy.
It’s all her fault for threatening my control.
Why couldn’t she hate me strongly enough not to let me come near her? Why amIattracted to her? She’s no longer the broken girl from over two months ago. There’s a fire in her eyes, a need to soar out of the darkness with unflappable wings.
Me? I’ve succumbed to the dark void living inside me.
I’ll drag her back down into it if I give in to the pull between us.
History knows that I’m only capable of ruining people.
Arya cannot be another victim. I need to learn to resist her submissive innocence and vulnerability. As much as she speaks about boundaries, her eyes tell a filthy story. They linger too long on my body, almost pleading with me to kiss and fuck her again. It’s why she needs us to be professional, because her willpower is as weak as mine.
Maybe inviting her to my place was a terrible idea.
I’m setting us up for failure.
Taking out my phone, I shoot her a text.
ME: We’ll meet at Golden Elm.
Finishing my drink in one gulp, I pay my tab and return to my purgatory . Not even alcohol is numbing the demons running amok in my brain. Their hold has become stronger. A few more months, and I’ll put them to rest.
Chapter Sixteen
Arya
“I’m here for Mr. Singhania,” I inform the hostess at Golden Elm.
As she checks the reservation on her iPad’s screen, my gaze wanders behind her. I catch my reflection in the floor-length mirror behind her. The light brown blouse with short puffy sleeves and cinched at the waist, paired with a matching pencil skirt, brings out the color of my eyes.
“Ah yes, I see your name, Miss Chopra,” says the hostess. “Mr. Singhania is already here and waiting for you at his table. Would you like me to escort you?”
