Chapter 07.1 – Hot and Handsome

sophista_hch7
|| 07. PAIZE 1 ♥ ||

“Who him?” the grave command came accompanied with his large hand possessively encapsulating her midriff flushing her frame against him

Feeling the growl vibrate from under her cheek, Mohana lifted her sleep laden heavy lashes again. Expecting to see sparkling black eyes that belonged to her warmth filled dream she instead stared at fury. Her lips formed a small pout in complaint, Polo couldn’t have angry eyes.

Overcoming the dozy resistance she blinked her eyes in an attempt to confirm her findings. The fuming orbs indeed did not belong to her stuffy anymore. Their ownership seemed to have shifted to a dashing someone else. A very magnificent dashing someone else. One who seemed vehemently furious.

“Someone bothered you?” she heard the words being ground out with urgency

Mohana closed her eyes before slowly daring to open them again. Without a doubt she seemed to be staring at none other than Omar Shaan. The ecstatic smile tugging at her lips broadened.

Closing her drowsy silver eyes contently she let out a relieved breath. “Noh..” mumbling the needful response to rest his anger she blissfully claimed what circled in her heart “..sooo hann..dsumm!”

Mohana’s sleepy fingers captured in his large hand rested on a harshly beating heart. Mumbling something under his breath Omar stiffly stated “Forget him. Let’s get something in your tummy”

“Nooh..” her lips breathing along the column of his muscular neck held a refusal. On an almost mesmerized sigh she whispered “..sooo hot!”. Shyly shuffling against the wall of strength her forehead brushed his chiseled jaw making the hand on her waist firm. Her heaving chest rubbed against his steel like muscles covered in the crisp white tshirt.

Grumbling rapid words under his breath, he eased her captured arm to lower only to hear another complaint escape her “mmhh”

Omar cupped her face in his large hand “I’ll sort him out..” smoothing her temple he added “..but if you don’t feel like waking up I’ll tell Bella we don’t want any raspberries and mangos for our lunch, should we do that?”

Sleepily straightening from his chest she scrunched her eyes open with an adamant pout. Relishing the protective hold of his palm she let her face rest on his strong hand. The mention of an unknown between them had her clearly upset.

Declaring “Noh..” Mohana demanded “..who’s bella?” awaiting an answer she leaned forward drowsily on his chest not wanting to give up on his warmth just yet

“Our stewardess Bella, she told me everyone has had lunch, you are the only one who is left hungry” the voice confirmed, his hand at the waist playing with the ruffles of her top

Her eyes blinked wide open at the mention of ‘our stewardess Bella’. Now fully attentive, her gaze landed on his adam’s apple. She parsed the well formed muscles on his arm, peeking from under the sleeve of his white tshirt. Mohana managed a croak that had had her bothered “Stewardess?”

Making small soothing circles on her temple Omar confirmed “Yeah, she will get you lunch”

Her breathing awry at his enchanting touch Mohana lightly pulled back. She wanted to verify if it was indeed who she feared this velvety rich voice belonged to. Untangling her fingers from the belt loop she moved her dainty hand to rest on his chest. Her dreams becoming an instant reality was not how she had planned to wake up from her innocent nap.

Reclined on his chest, her legs possessively parked atop one of his Mohana sat clutching on to him with need. Her chest heaved to draw a hesitant breath. She certainly had a dire need to hold onto his magnificence but a far urgent need to run away and hide from him surfaced with much more fervor. Her fluffy Polo had indeed become the real Omar Shaan. And for one she wasn’t sure how had that been made possible.

Gulping at the oddity Mohana tried the first rationale thoughts that buzzed through her “Salm?! I thought this.. uh. Salm was here? Uhm. I was taking a nap. A short nap. And I thought.. this.. is Salm”. Mohana patted on his chest with conviction. The burning sensation transferring to her fingers, had her nervously curl her hand in a fist

Twirling a golden lock of hair within his fingers, his dark eyes boring into hers Omar merely whispered “You would have taken a nap with Salm like this?”

“No! Uh! No uhm not Salm! I thought.. it’s uh.. uhm.. I.. ” she halted, her face glowing brightly at his words. Mohana desperately searched for a name. Any name that could rescue her from accepting the truth. Her heart fretted at being exposed. No part of her being wanted to have a conversation about her dreams with Omar Shaan. Let alone inform him of his own consistent presence in them.

She somehow managed to come with a most reasonable name “I thought it’s Soren! Soren Rick!”

“Soren Rick?..” Omar gave a considering nod “..because he is so handsome and so hot?” he repeated words she had been mumbling against his chest

“Ya!” Mohana confirmed professing complete confidence. Not wanting to leave room for any doubt she emphatically added “He is very handsome! And very hot!”

Soren Rick seemed like the safest bet for a dream man. His name started with the same initial as Salm which could help cover her initial folly. Being a brilliant actor, popular media superstar, Soren Rick was also one of the most good looking men from the film fraternity. All points considered, he was an optimum choice, making Mohana extremely assured of her pick

“And last night after our meeting, you had a meeting with Soren?” Omar checked his fingers turning another silken lock of her golden hair

Her gaze admiring Omar’s features broke at his query. Lowering to her own fingers gripping hard at his tshirt, she realized their proximity. Haphazardly pulling away Mohana slipped her legs from being possessively perched atop his. Wrapped in his jacket she hurriedly shifted moving to the farther end of the luxurious couch increasing the distance between them. She inhaled a conscious breath reminding herself of the fib on dreaming about Soren Rick.

Absentmindedly clutching on to the rich leather wrapped around her shoulders, Mohana nervously wet her lips “Soren yeah he and I.. uhm I will also meet with him when I go back. I need to talk to him. we have things to discuss..I’ll call him!..” picking her surroundings she hastily threw in “..but I’ll call him as soon I land because we had to meet today also. but then this happened. uh uhm the flight. this travel? and he’s not here that’s why I was missing him and I was dreaming about him!”

Convinced at her own delivery of words she tried to reward herself by drawing a breath but nearly choked. Her sincere wish got caught half way through seeing Omar stretch his long denim clad legs. Color on her cheeks deepened.

She fluently denied the reminder of having clung on to him, sitting climbed upon that robust strength. Blaming the luxe leather couch and their airborne travel conditions Mohana determined she must have had unintentionally slipped to the other side of the couch.

“You dream about Soren Rick? That gaffe of a movie guy? Who is hardly even real? Where all his lines are part of a script?!” Omar incredulously asked glaring at her

Mohana frowned at that wayward description about the hep movie star. Everyone liked Soren Rick. He was one of the most suitable candidates to be dreamt about. His recent romantic movie Desperation had turned out to be a mega hit.

Most importantly for Mohana, Soren had been desperate to marry a journalist in his role. In contrast, here she sat besides Omar Shaan who couldn’t have halted from rebutting a mere misunderstanding of their marriage to a random confectionery shop associate. Infuriated at his earlier words ‘we are not married’ Mohana zestfully determined for Soren Rick to be her shield. Dream and otherwise.

Courageously looking up at Omar, Mohana declared “He is real! As real as it gets. All those action scenes in Desperation did not come out of thin air and he does them all by himself, have you ever looked at those abs..”

“And you have? looked at his abs?” Omar intervened, his velvety rich voice holding a terrorizing disdain

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