Chapter 13 – Hard And Rough

|| 13. PAIZE 1 ♥ ||

Completely unaware of the changing sky colors and passing hours, behind the closed shades, Mohana lay cozily curled onto Omar. Under the warm comforters, paying no heed to the tshirt that had carelessly rolled higher on her thighs, her ivory legs lay atop the denim jeans, resting proprietarily on him.

Reclined against the headboard his fingers were entwined in her long silken strands, which had been freed after much restraint from their bounding french knot. Through the time, glancing at the golden head resting on his thread-less torso, Omar had been narrating textile industry related legal cases which were tackled under his legal counsel.

A low affirmation, a questioning hum, or sometimes a slight move from Mohana on his commentary kept the story interestingly flow. Playing with the ends of her tendrils, turning them smoothly between his fingers, wrapping another impactful outcome, Omar began outlining one more prominent case, maintaining their communication.

The dainty woman resting on his muscular chest, her eyes still determinedly closed, seemed entirely awed by his presence. To add to her heart’s merriness, his embrace, his whisper touches, and the velvety voice soothed the freezing darkness that had erupted inside her.

In the dimly lit airplane room, Omar spoke in low murmurs, sharing details on the litigation of the cotton gin machine manufacturers. At the description of the unscrupulous suppliers, Mohana moved on his delectably carved torso murmuring a muffled “Mhh”

“Exactly, no one in the business is at that level of crappy” taking her feedback in stride of the unfavorable practices, Omar started expanding on the legal battle, curling another of her golden locks within his fingers

Upon receiving a connect from the cockpit he halted their story, whispering to Mohana “It would be Cart checking on his princess” another low hum escaped in response as she hooked her thumb on to a belt loop of his jeans

Answering the line Omar checked on their flight trajectory “Past quart?”

“Yeah, just crossed..” Carter confirmed, checking on Mohana’s progress from the other side of the airplane “..She’s warm?”

Glancing at the unwell woman who had in time gained a gradual breathing pattern, Omar informed “Yeah and sort of drowsy”

“One of the few side effects of Offeapa..” the older gentleman provided with a heavy voice “..I was going to wait to check on her, but there are some messages and Zaniha called”

The golden curled tendril slipped from being entwined around Omar’s forefinger “I’ll be there”

Disconnecting the line, he tenderly shifted Mohana making her settle on the bedsheets, murmuring to her drowsy form “I’ll check on Cart and then we’ll get back to our case”. Straightening from the bed he stepped over to the closet when her sleepy moan “Mmhh” warranted his attention

Shifting on the sheets, her fingers sleepily reached to the space besides in search, wanting to clasp onto him when halting from throwing a tshirt over his head, Omar bent besides the young woman. Placing their stop watch on the bedside table which shone: 6:59:48:01:03, he whispered a caring assurance “I’ll be back in less than seven minutes”

“Mmm” certain of his presence, this time a low murmur escaped from the back of her throat, weakly holding on to the pink throw instead, Mohana hugged it closer

He reached to caress her head but his hand halted mid air. Balling his fingers in a hard fist, he longingly looked at the beautiful innocent face. Eyes closed, long lashes skimming the high cheek bones, her strikingly shiny golden hair fanning across the dark pillow, made her look exceptionally exquisite, glowing along the plush pink throw and stark gray sheets.

Her lips slightly parted as if to say something, but no sound came out after a small “Mm”. Flexing agitated fingers, growling a bunch of words under his breath, Omar turned away from the angelic occupant on the bed to carelessly cover his torso in the black jersey knit, exiting the room with padded moves

Seeing a nearly fire breathing Omar approach the cockpit, Carter threw a pod for catch in his direction “Someone didn’t sound happy, not that I can say any different about you”

Omar lightly chuckled at that “I’ll talk to Zaniha..” turning the pod in his fingers, he queried “..but your princesa? Shouldn’t she have gotten up by now? to tell us how she’s feeling?”

“Offeapa won’t let her, as I understand it ensures the recipient sloshes through hours of committed rest for Homela to act” Carter reported gravely

Restlessly spinning the pod faster between his forefinger and thumb, Omar checked “How about Vepaz, can that ease this entire yinar phase sooner?”

Mohana’s guard shook his head as if the thought altogether disagreed with him. He explained his interpretation about the medicines “Vepaz is formulated to strengthen Offeapa and it is known to have one of the slowest release cycles, she would be knocked out for long. The doctors say it’s a backup, but no one I know has ever actually taken it”

Gazing ahead at the sky from the cockpit windshield, a frown creased Omar’s forehead “That was the one specific pearl she wouldn’t even glance at. Jasper pretty much predicted it, but how come these meds don’t look much different to me?”

“That’s because none of us can decipher them. Certain things only come with patience..” Carter informed matter of factly “..and because the healing works in many different ways, someone will usually know what they want and how to get it”

“Patience and usually..” expressing his aversion on the words, Omar exhaled a sigh “..great selection of phrases Cart, yet none of them can get any traction from me. I haven’t been blessed with an ounce of patience and certainty is the only way. Those bloody doses have already tested me beyond” running a frustrated hand through his face, Omar jaggedly ran fingers through his already messy hair

Carter woefully smiled “Welcome to the club. Offeapa is certainly very effective but it has it’s own ways. And you’ve got some more wild hours to clock”

“Right..” Omar grumbled, then offered “..Let me grab you something to eat, before I get back to her”

“I’ll get it later, not feeling up for anything just yet” Carter confirmed, leaning back in the pilot chair

Turning around from the flight deck Omar jokingly challenged to lighten the concerned guard “Your princesa wouldn’t be too happy to know you kept yourself hungry, waiting for her to recover”

Offhandedly shrugging Carter pensively murmured “We can keep some secrets”

“Nah attorney client agreements and all that there is, you know the drill. I am not allowed to hide anything from her and you’re in muddy waters already” Omar claimed on a mischievous smile playing at his lips

Giving an emotional smile in return, the older gentleman caved in “Ye boss”. Exchanging a nod and words of acknowledgement, Omar made his way to the kitchenette to fetch Carter a meal

Unlocking the door to his bedroom, the low sobbing noises had Omar urgently rush towards Mohana, who lay whimpering on the bed “Mo stór?”

Huddled under the blankets, clutching on to the pink throw Mohana was trembling with chills. She adamantly issued her disheartening complaint “Yooo leff..t”

Omar comforted “Ya. But am here now, I came back before the timer turned zero” though his consolation held no impact, for her lips quivered and she courageously turned to the other side

A momentary hesitation halted Omar. He glanced at the pod he had brought from Carter, then discarding it on the bedside table he reached to hold Mohana “Hey..” finding her body icy cold again took him by surprise “..why are you so cold again? Are you feeling the jitters?”

Her body writhed in pain but overruling his concern, she stubbornly refused to acknowledge him as she quivered with another frosty shudder. “Mo stór, look at me. I can’t have you freezing like this..” turning Mohana in embrace, frantically pulling the covers to secure her in warmth, caressing her head Omar concernedly fretted “..tell me what’s bothering you”

On a sob, she relayed the cause of her distress “Yoo lefft.. but.. yoo leff..t” petulantly calling out on his promise of the kiss and their staying together. Moving in his arms, the tears of anguish escaped through her eyes, rolling speedily on her icy cheeks. Her weak, shuddering body curled into him and while she welcomed his warmth, nothing helped calm her feelings of having been disregarded again

Stroking the salty streams from her face, Omar guiltily murmured “I went to the cockpit but I came back to you..” running his hands through her freezing arms, he attempted to ease her chills, hastily ascertaining “..we’ll never have pineapples, I won’t ever even let you see one”

“Nohh..” claiming her complaint through the tears, her sobbing intensified “I don..t like limmp!”

|| 13. PAIZE 2 ♥ ||

His grip on her fastened, expression getting graver at the puzzling choice of words. The mention of pineapple followed by an expressive dislike of limp, concocted together, resurfaced the misdemeanor of the hotel associate, highlighting his Exxenza deal with the Chanceys clan.

The well adapted fruity taste, cheery bright color and fragrance of pineapples, made it one of the most popular flavors for masking the potent Exxenza drug, even minute doses of which created maddening arousal effects on its recipients. Exorbitantly priced, the narcotics got smuggled as simulated flavored sweeteners, its proclaimed efficacy of extending periods of elevated sexual excitement, made it a favorable thrill for substance abuse.

Urgently stroking off her tears, Omar solemnly checked “You want pineapple? Because you don’t want limp?”

“Yaa..h yooh” her response, slightly indistinct but determinedly certain, appeared in between sobs and huge salty streams emphatically rolling from her eyes

Weaving fingers through her hair, Omar tugged Mohana closer, demandingly smashing her against his chest. Cupping her face, his thumb anxiously roved on her porcelain cheeks getting rid of each tormenting teardrop, hesitantly whispering “Who am I?”

Her breasts heaved frantically along his robust strength at that query. Hiding her face nervously on his palm, she lightly clutched on to his tshirt, possessively declaring through her sobs “! mmh.. like.. Po..lo”

The name hung in the air only to be accompanied by the sound of low sniffles and a loudly thudding heart. Tilting her face, Omar gazed into glassy silver spheres, his growl ran a tremble through their melded frames “We can’t do this. Say yes”

“Ye..s” Mohana complied on the verge of another sob but gazing at him mesmerized, in spite of the terror his darkened orbs flashed, her shallow breathing eased. Soaking him in, the comfort of his presence made her sobs recede and tears come to a halt

Gently stroking her back Omar attempted to infuse heat to her cold body, lulling her to relax “This whole thing with twins and pineapples and that movie jerk, I’ll sort it all out but I want you to rest right now. Hm?”

“Hm” she echoed, ardently staring at him, a small smile forming her lips

Circling her temple, his fingers lowered to caress the corner of her eyelids “We’ll rest for a while m’anam, you need to recover, your temperature shouldn’t be dropping like this, it’s not good for you”

Snuggled into his arms she lay fascinated but the idea of closing her eyes again to only have him leave, terribly distressed her. “Noh..” pouting she blamed him for the entire mishap “..yoo lefft”

“I did, but I won’t again. Not even for a moment” he committed, stroking the back of his fingers caringly on her cheeks which were starting to regain color

Picking on the thunderous heartbeat, Mohana curiously placed her palm on his heart. Absorbing the wild thudding which mimicked her own in rhythm, she meekly whispered her enquiry “” her voice shyly trailing off while adding “..kiss?”

“When we wake up, we’ll discuss together because it’s us. You and I” Omar engulfed her protectively in the circle of his arms

She contently whispered repeating him “Us”

“Only us” stroking her hair Omar adamantly confirmed, then added “Do you want me to tell you about the cotton gin manufacturing defect case and how we won?”

“Yaa” dazed by his exceptional brilliance, fixedly admiring him, her eyes adorably shone, tears long forgotten as she awaited in awe to hear him talk to her more

Running his fingers gently along her temple, Omar lightly dealt “But I can’t, if you don’t close your eyes”

“Oh” her lips formed a pout in disagreement of the condition he had set forth, her doubt still holding strong “But if yoo..?..”

“I won’t leave you. We’ll be together, we’ll talk about our case and when you feel recovered, we’ll be just like this” Omar assuringly interjected, resting her face on his chest, soothing her eyes to close

“Like.. this” echoing his promise, she inhaled a ragged breath. Feeling his tender caresses, holding her trust in the man of her dreams that she would not be left alone, her lashes decidedly remained swooped low.

Absorbing his surrounding warmth, her breathing began matching his pace, fingers easing their nervy grip on his tshirt making her hand skid lower. Listening to his luring voice her antsy heart now started to happily bloom, following his descriptions ardently. Upon his insight about the wrongdoing of defendants in the legal case, she ascertained her objection “Hm” in sync with his explanation

“Yeah, malpractice won’t..” sharing his agreement Omar informed of the next twist in the judiciary battle. Gently talking to her, he attempted to keep Mohana deviated, all along feeling for her temperature, caressing her head, his palms running along her arms and back aiming to pacify her from the jolting tremors.

In time when her shivers halted, her body temperature gained momentum, feeling ensured that the medication was helping her revive warmth, his hold eased on her. Growling a whisper to the device on his wrist, Omar issued an order “Get me everyone who can be a Polo”. An instant beep of acknowledgement came through, along a soft moan “mmh” from Mohana which had Omar flex his fingers agitatedly, while instantly getting back to continuing the legal warfare chronicle.

Regaining their previous stance Omar sat reclined on the bed, his one arm thrown behind to prop his head while other blanketed under her golden waves. Sliding lower on his chest, Mohana curled on his abdomen, her legs thrown atop his and fingers latched onto the belt loops of his jeans.

Her responses became much simpler hums along their journey. When narration around the cotton gin trial wrapped up, proceedings for another lawsuit rolled through while the digits on the clock kept flipping. True to his promise Omar stayed with Mohana as the timezones changed along the route of their flight. The connects with Carter from the cockpit became a standard exchange, where the guard informed of their travel trajectory while Omar reported on Mohana’s health which remained status quo: drowsy

Just after they had disconnected their line, the connection buzzed again for Carter to inform Omar in a rush “Zaniha’s on the connect”

“I’ll talk to her when I see her. I didn’t answer your connect because am asleep” Omar murmured, glancing at the beautiful woman resting on his abdomen

Acknowledging his plan, Carter checked “Do I tell her you checked the message at least?”

Running a haphazard hand on the back of his neck, Omar glanced at the pod where he had left it on the bedside table “Nah, I was tired, been asleep all along”

“Ye boss” upon hearing Carter’s affirmation, their line disengaged

Picking the data pod, Omar reached for his digital device. The glass display screen flooded with unread messages and out of the specific highlighted ones, his eyes halted at the name: Zaniha Kapoor. Throwing his head back, Omar spoke aloud “You’re mine”

The quiet semi lit room stared at him in response as his sole companion lay contently resting on him, seeming to have paid no heed to his words. What seemed like an eternity of silence, heaving a deep sigh, Omar ran an impatient hand on his chest, closing his eyes.

Shifting on his lap a dozy affirmation flowed through Mohana “hmm”

On a low chuckle, his eyes blinked open and he murmured a whisper “Forever”

“mmm yaah” a muffled mumble, and Mohana determinedly skid lower from his abdomen settling her face on the front his jeans

She fidgeted on the denim, attempting to adjust along the new terrain of thicker fabric, seams and stitches that pressed on her face, when wrapping his arm around her, Omar pulled Mohana higher putting a halt on her wriggling “This is a tad easier”

Attempting to grab the obstructive zip flap with her weak fingers, she complained “mmhh..ard”

|| 13. PAIZE 3 ♥ ||

“How about we think about other things..” clasping her delicate hand in his, Omar tried “ messages we should read these messages”

Moving her hand to his heart, he left Zaniha’s message unread to parse through the list of other notifications. Reviewing them one by one Omar shared varied tidbits, discussing the topic of each message, speaking to her through the responses, keeping himself and Mohana thoroughly deviated from the recent mention of hard-ness

He widely smiled looking at the next message in the list which was titled: Our Journalist’s Interview. Unfolding the message he murmured to the dainty woman in his embrace “Did you enjoy your meeting with Trissa?”

“Hmm” rubbing her cheek against the fabric of his tshirt, breathing him in, Mohana attempted to snuggle closer

Curling a wavy golden lock around his fingers Omar began parsing through the notes. The observations detailed the time for when Trissa had met Mohana for the first time, the duration they had spent together, flowing into a brief overview of how much the young child had liked the interaction.

The main interview notes began with a description from Trissa on the Sophista editor-in-chief being superiorly intelligent and one of the most beautiful women along with her mom and grand-moms. Mohana had also been titled as the most stylish princess along which the young journalist in making, had highlighted her to be really really really caring.

Parsing the meticulous handwriting Omar halted at the answer for favorite colors: Favorite color is not pink. It is silver. Because Mo’ana has beautiful silver eyes

“Silver. Sure..” Omar grumbled “..if that scripted jerk has anything to do with it, the downtown theaters won’t see another movie release of his”. On a small hum, Mohana’s legs restlessly climbed along his longer denim clad ones, which were crossed at the ankles.

Reading along the answers, he smugly spoke to the beautiful woman reclined on his chest “Did you know the editor-in-chief at Sophista can plan an interview on a variety of subjects? The restriction only exists for a certain designer who has to win at something to even talk to her”

“Yaah” Mohana affirmed, a soft moan accompanying her stand as she dozily shifted to cuddle deeper into him. Hiking her leg higher she halted on the front his jeans, slipping her foot between his legs

Gently easing her knee from its determined establishment, Omar murmured “Now that I have this in written, I highly doubt this is going to work anymore”

Giving him another agreeing “Hmm” Mohana adamantly slid her knee back, settling it atop the jeans zip closure

“We’ll have to discuss this too, when you recover” capturing a few golden wavy strands in his other hand, he shifted her leg to the side, meeting success this time around

Looking back at the screen, the next set of sentences had him frown. He re-read the text on the screen: Mo’ana has another attorney in Sir Gallaghair’s team. This attorney is more handsome than Omar, strongest ever with lots of muscles and really dashing just like Trissa’s attorney. If she wants she can see him everyday, it depends on what Mo’ana needs to discuss

Glancing at the woman who looked exceptionally graceful even in her unwell state, rhythmically breathing on his chest, Omar established a connect from his digi. He ordered on the line “List of all the attorneys at Staoux Media House” in response a tiny moan came from Mohana as she shifted her face slightly

Receiving a verbal confirmation from the other end, Omar returned his focus to the interview notes. The words that followed next, grandly appreciated Soren Rick on being the most good looking superstar. Description of Soren’s strength, his abs, how difficult a six pack was to make, comments on how famous his movies were and how the actor had earned a whole slew of awards, glared at Omar.

Flexing his fingers he grumbled rapid words under his breath. A delish sounding moan from the back of her throat had Omar enquire “You must be dreaming about that man who is so handsome and so hot?”

In complete contrast to his tone, seemingly not having picked the heavy undertone of sarcasm, another of her delicate moans escaped in affirmation, making Omar ball a fist. He growled more to himself than the rosy cheeked woman determinedly glued to him “He’s a scripted jerk. Desperation is a script”

Only on another agreeing hum from Mohana, Omar looked back at the screen. Scanning the attentively prepared document he scoured all the details, getting apprised on an array of subjects: Soren had worked hard to carve strong muscles; Mohana had really liked Trissa’s dress; Omar was very very kind; Indigo had helped Mohana wear the saree for her visit to Sarrata and among other topics, included was information around Mohana’s input on Chanceys, discussion on events and gatherings both Trissa and Mohana planned to attend

Flipping through the entire set of questions, Omar arrived at the scratch paper that had come accompanied with the final notes

His dark spheres halted at the specific sentence: Omar is kind, really kind, very, very .. kind. He ran a thumb on the gap between the words, from where the third ‘very’ had been erased. Reverting to the beginning of the document, he began reviewing the detailed article once over again, his fingers lost in her thick golden mane, twirling the silken strands as Mohana lay snuggled onto him

In moments of the room falling wordlessly silent, her drowsy lashes fluttered open. Shuffling above him she leaned backwards on his arm to look up, hazily gazing into his eyes, she mumbled her complaint “Hm?”

“Hey, you feel like getting up?” Omar whispered unsurely, glancing concernedly at the frail woman whose eyes stared at him in demand

“Noh” her lips formed a pout at the query. Falling back on his chest she shifted against him, attempting to cuddle into his muscular frame. Rubbing her cheek against the black tshirt which lay stretched across his chest, she placed a precarious fingertip on his heart.

Discarding the digital gadget aside, Omar felt for her temperature “I’ll bring you something to eat?”

“Mhm!” moodily mumbling her negation, she staggeringly distanced herself from his chest, deeply frowning at the fabric covering his torso. Inching her knee over his jeans zip, she croaked “Yoo’re ha..rrd!”

Hastily grabbing her leg to pause it’s hike, he tried “The jeans should..”

“And rough! very. rough” interjecting him Mohana declared, this time more as a grievance, emphasizing her dissatisfaction with a shaky pointer finger

Instantly easing his fastened grasp on her thigh, Omar frantically rushed “I didn’t think. but we. you and I. I won’t be rough”

“Noh?” she whispered, cluelessly blinking at his disappearing touch from under her leg

“No. Not at all. Of course not. Never” assuring her, Omar gently slipped his fingers from being entwined in her silken golden hair checking “Better?”

Unable to comprehend his actions, perturbed at the loss of his touch, she acknowledged him with a doubtful frown “Noh”

Her body swayed from being under the influence of strong drugs, but placing her hand on the bed for support, she sat awaiting his next, preferably favorable move. Following to see him hook his thumb on one of the belt loops, perplexed Mohana looked up at the handsome man who now seemed farther, his torso spaced inches from her own. A light shiver ran through her frame making her quiver.

Noticing his arm get propped behind his head, she doubtfully glanced back to the other hand again which appeared same as before, unmoved and still tucked onto the denim loop. Extremely appalled, she looked at her own hands, then lowering lashes to the fabric covering her, she inquisitively felt for its material when she heard Omar enquire “Is it still bothering you?”

Getting distracted from studying the tshirt which was acting as her night dress, her eyes shifted to rove through the black jersey knit clinging onto him. Genuine concern flashed through his eyes but baffled to find that no action had been taken on her reported grievance, she frowned “Isn’t it?”

Straightening on the bed, Omar further increased the distance between them “Right. My bad. I’ll sort it”

Puzzled at him inching away in contradiction to his promissory words, Mohana shyly leaned towards him. Displeased at having been kept waiting for a remedy to the rough situation, she reached to grab his tshirt, willing to tackle the concern herself

Under the covers her legs climbed atop his jeans, restive to get back to cuddling and discussing the knowledgeable legal cases when splashing a dampener on her efforts, Omar fluidly shifted Mohana on the bed. Before she could even feel his touch, he had stepped away from her and their bed altogether.

She opened her mouth to instantly raise her complaint, upset at having been left again, when she heard him check “Do I always hurt you?”

|| 13. PAIZE 4 ♥ ||

Outraged at feeling the cool sheets under her legs, Mohana frowned at the man of her dreams in utter disappointment. Her chest heaved at his neglect and nearing on a sob, she emphatically declared “Ya..h!”

Swiping a hand over his eyes, Omar rushed to offer “I’ll take care of you. I can’t. I won’t ever. the whole hurt thing. We’ll talk in a few hours. I’ll wait. If you want me to go, I can, but I have to stay here because I can’t li.. basically I mean. I can’t live anywhere else. The couch? I’ll take the couch”

Mohana rapidly blinked glassy eyes seeing Omar take steps away creating further distance between them. Attempting to grapple the cause of his withdrawal, she doubtfully inspected the article of clothing on herself which felt equally rough too. Bunching the black tshirt in a weak fist, she enquired in a troubled whisper “Because of this?”

His feet halted, glancing at the unwell woman, the glow on her face from only a while ago seemed to have completely vanished. Flexing his hands agitatedly, Omar shoved them in the back pockets of his jeans claiming “Yeah because of this. Exactly. This is my room”

A shuddering tremble shook Mohana. The server Peggy’s claim from the beach photo shoot circled venomously, clawing at her insides: ‘..I will do anything for you! I am going to open it when we go to the room anyways!..

Waves of frigid darkness made her lower lip quiver, her heart lurched, breathing nearly coming to a standstill. Longingly looking at the tall handsome figure, she clutched harder onto her tshirt, forming one word “Peggy?”

Omar frowned seeing Mohana turn entirely pale. Clenching a fist he urgently traced his steps towards the bed, demanding “Peggy? What did she say? Has she troubled you?”

Her chest heaved with distress hearing him repeat that name aloud. A sob threatened to escape but biting hard on her lower lip, terribly rattled, Mohana shook her head, throwing the covers over herself, she balled under the layers to completely hide her shivering body. Her frosty heart refused to let her breathe, but pursing lips together, she shut her eyes close, hugging desperately onto the pink throw.

Looking at her curl under the blankets, Omar ran a frantic hand over his sculpted chest, banging a fist right on his heart, he tentatively approached the bed. Slightly lifting the coverlet, he deeply frowned at her severely tormented form, visibly shaking under the covers.

“Mo stór, m’anam, tell me what’s bothering you” his rich velvety voice caring yet commanding, in turn made her shriveled heart feel protected to strive for another beat

Clenching onto the plush pink throw, her eyes shot open to glance at his dark orbs that still held no speck of her desirous sparkle, her resolve fearfully crumbling at the fury blazing through him and on a swallow of a much needed breath, she stated a broken string of words “She. opened it? in. this room?”

A lone salty drop that had been kept restrained finally escaped her huge silver eyes, another following right behind. Frantically stroking the tears, Omar growled feeling her icy cheeks “We can’t do this. I can’t see you suffering like this. I won’t have you going through this for anyone. We are together in our room, in our airplane, that’s what we agreed on. Peggy can never come here, she won’t dare do anything to you”

Halting his fingers from leaving whisper caresses on her cheeks, Mohana clasped his large hand with both hers, possessively hugging his forearm to her chest. Moving her cold face to rest on his palm, she needily embraced what belonged to her while curbing on a sob, she furiously established the blame “You did. You let her open. in this room”

Cupping her face, Omar stroked off another teardrop at the verge of rolling, cajoling tenderly “M’anam, we can’t waste our tears for anyone. You and I, we are together. This is our room. We were together at the beach for the cover shoot, then we flew in our airplane and we shared our honeymoon suite. Will I let anyone bother you?”

“Noh” Mohana determinedly agreed, gazing in awe at the man kneeled ahead, leaning across the bed, beginning to make her shivers loose the battle against the warmth of his presence

Framing the coverlet to curl around her head, Omar encouraged “You’ll tell me what happened and I’ll manage it, say yes?”

“Ye..s” Mohana favorably interpreted his command but her heart turned at the daunting reminder of his interaction with the server “She’ll anything? open for you” and the dam of salty streams got unleashed

“Mo stór” at that growl, she got fluently lifted from the covers to be bound in his embrace. Cocooned in his strength she bawled her heart out. Her words got muffled against his chest as she wailed, blaming him over and over on her pent up feelings: anything, open anything, open anything for you, your room

Anxiously caressing her tear soaked cheeks, gathering her words, Omar consoled “Listen to me, we don’t care about her. We don’t care about anything. She can open nothing. Only you and I share a room. And only you and I can open our buttons”

Pulling from his arms Mohana looked at the breathtakingly magnificent man through wet lashes. Uncertain if she was spiraling in a maze of deceitfully luring imagination, she nervously shifted in his embrace requesting confirmation “Only you and I can open.. them?”

“Our buttons, yeah” tugging her closer, putting a halt to her shuffling, Omar smoothed her cheeks murmuring “We are together. We can’t worry our eyes with more tears because we are going to watch Desperation. It’s such a nice movie and..” forcing a smile he enthused “ has Soren Rick! But you have to stay with me like this, or else how will we know am not rough anymore”

At the lack of receiving any interest on the suggestion, Omar appealed to the large silver eyes that were steadfast gazing at him. Overriding his earlier snubbing of the cinema actor, he repeated Mohana’s own words to convince this time “No one can be as handsome as Soren Rick and do you know he marries a journalist in the movie. He has invested such hard work to carve that entire six pack, so we should definitely watch him together, like this, hm?”

Looking at Omar doubtfully, Mohana shifted on his lap, ascertaining her stand to his deviation “Noh..” she reverted them to the pressing concern “..You didn’t let her open the jeans.. button? and.. and the shirt button?” placing a shy finger on his tshirt she whispered “..All of them? Say yes?”

“Yes, I didn’t let her open any button. No jeans button, no shirt button. None of them. Only you can open my buttons” Omar confirmed, smoothing her hair

Receiving some solace, Mohana curled her fingers in a loose fist “Only I can. But everyone saw, everyone!” throwing herself in his arms, she lamented against his chest “I don’t want anyone to see. No one! Nobody at all”

“You don’t want anyone to see us together when you are opening my buttons?” Omar checked, cupping her face, turning to make her look at him

“Yah. Only I can. because you? You..” she halted on a sniff, pointing her finger to his chest “..they’ll see you without all.. this rough thing!”

“They’ll see me..?..” following her finger, Omar inhaled a deep breath tentatively checking “..they’ll see me without the rough thing? This is rough? the tshirt?”

“Isn’t it?” looking at her own top, Mohana tugged on to the neck of the fabric wanting to pull it off her head, when wrapping an arm around her waist Omar halted the jersey knit from budging any further

Easing the material to release from her fingers, he coaxed “We’ll do this after we talk? In a few hours? Right now you need to tell me..” gently smoothing her cheek Omar enquired “..when I do this, is it rough?”

|| 13. PAIZE 5 ♥ ||

“Noh” her eyes shyly swooped lower, breathlessly tracing her finger on his muscled forearm in response, she whispered “I am rough?”

“No. But unless you want to play an unfair game, my arm can’t participate” in a swift move Omar had her held from behind the knee. The scrunched tshirt on Mohana, offered no barrier for his hand touching her thigh “What about this? Am I hurting you?”

Her heart frolicked, racing through her torso, awakening the butterflies to emerge with full vigor, but nervous this time she didn’t dare to mimic his touch again, only barely managing a whisper “N..oh”

“And if I do this?..” weaving fingers through her golden hair, Omar checked “..Is this rough? does it hurt?”. Twirling silken waves around his hand, he held it ahead for her inspection

“Mhm” shyly humming her negation, Mohana hid her face on his chest

Tugging her adamantly closer, Omar embraced her with urgency, frantically running his palm along her back to soothe her cold body “What did I do to hurt you, mo stór”

“You left me! To go there” turning on his chest, she lightly pointed towards the couch establishing her complaint

Easing them against the headboard to recline on the layers of cushions, Omar gravely offered “I didn’t leave, I only went there but I was with you, it’s the whole misunderstanding of rough that messed it up..”

“You always leave me” not getting convinced, she stressed her interjection to report on her long standing suffering

The back of his fingers smoothed along the column of her neck “I came back in less than a minute mo chroí, so you will stay with me like this. And we don’t care to watch that scripted jerk ever, because I am not rough anymore and we have to be together”

Hearing him talk to her, feeling his touch, her body basked in his embrace. She involuntarily leaned sideways, welcoming his teasing caresses, her breathing getting heavier with each warming stroke his fingers left on her skin. Fidgeting to rest her cheek on the rough fabric, she reinstated her objection “Noh. You’re very. very rough”

“Yeah that rough. But I won’t be rough. at all. because we have solved this and now we don’t need to watch Desperation” lightly straightening them, Omar eased his hold on Mohana for a fraction before the tshirt covering his muscular strength was fluently discarded, circling her temple he persuaded “Say yes”

Staring at his gloriously chiseled torso, her cheeks flared with color. Ogling at each ripple, silver eyes shone bright, admiring the toned, pristine power in awe, utterly impressed by exceptional level of details her own dream had captured.

Lost on her was the pretense of Soren Rick and claims she had fabricated in her nervousness and despite the deviations her companion had on his mind, her focus was centered on one man: Omar Shaan. Unwilling to sway from her decision to let his shirtless torso be on display for anyone else, she ascertained her stand determinedly “Noh. so very. very hot! No one can see. Only I can”

“I don’t think so. That man is not real, he is scripted for a movie and he is a jerk who doesn’t have a six pack for real, all that highlighting comes from makeup..” Omar heatedly objected, making a complete u-turn, bringing them back to his original dislike for the cinema actor “..Might as well I try for some of those movies, but in the meanwhile you’re only going to watch those which I approve”

Precariously placing a fingertip on his chest, Mohana declared emphatically “You cannot do a movie. I won’t allow! I don’t want anyone to see. Nobody at all”

“Why not? Who allowed that scripted jerk those movies with his barely there muscles?” his fingers eased in her voluminous mane getting engrossed within the golden waves

Resting her cheek on a lightly curled fist, Mohana considerably hummed attempting to collate her thoughts but the powerful torso at display in front of her eyes had her thoroughly deviated making her give up all attempts of sanity “Mmhh. I don’t know your jerk. but I am possessive”

“Not for that fool! That’s not how possessiveness works. You have to be possessive about only one somebody and you only want to dream about them all the time” capturing her fist Omar uncurled it, making her palm rest on his heart

Reveling in his touch, she lightly nodded in confirmation “Yah. Very possessive. You have to dream about me all the time”

“Yeah, why not, because you’re so possessive of me, that I am the only one whom you dream about all the time” wrapping fingers along her nape, his thumb caressed the tender skin behind her ear as he tugged her closer, making her face rest on his chest

Hesitantly drawing a star on his heart, almost ensuring his presence to confirm he felt as real as he could, Mohana gave her wholehearted agreement “Hmm yaa. pineapple..” her voice trailed as she shyly whispered to herself “..kiss. every..where”

“Our dreams, our buttons and our agreement” setting her hair, Omar heaved a staggering sigh “We’ll close our eyes and rest some?”

“Yah. I can. but how will you? I am still rough!” she claimed of her own tshirt, reaching for it again, shifting in his embrace to get rid of the material altogether

Nudging the single piece of clothing to settle back on her thighs, Omar offered “Among all the other discoveries in this journey we’ll add fabric to our list and when we wake up, we’ll try to get something which won’t be rough”

Shyly clasping on to his jeans pocket for support, Mohana attempted to snuggle deeper into him but his steel strength only offered so much, yet convinced to sink further, like she would with her fluffy Polo, her query became muffled against his chest “How?”

Enveloping her in layers of warm coverlets, the pink throw, Omar ground out words he had read in Trissa’s message “You know that very very kind fashion designer, the one on your December cover? His design team will get you whatever you fancy”

Taking the tranquility of the room by surprise, Mohana broke into a round of giggles at his words. Playfully arching back on his arm she swayed, her eyes now wide awake, sparkling with mischief. Pointing a finger at him she puckered her lips impishly declaring “No! He will never be on my December cover! Because nobody can see! Nobody at all!”

“Right, nobody should see him, everyone should only see that Soren Rick on your cover, because there can be no one as extremely good looking as that jerk” Omar growled on a broken breath, recovering the blankets to secure them around her cold body

“Hmm ya. Nobody! I won’t allow!” adamantly declaring, Mohana looked at him expectantly. Glowing with naughtiness, her eyebrows raised in anticipation demanding another “How?”

Turning a silken wave within his fingers, Omar set forth his condition “I’ll figure it out and we’ll finalize it together but that’s only valid if you won’t watch Desperation and close your eyes right away. Say yes”

“Yes!” vouching her enthusiastic agreement, Mohana eagerly shut her silver eyes close. Falling onto his chest she affectionately cuddled into the man of her dreams, an elated smile spreading across her lips at the easiest deal she could have ever negotiated with the hardcore attorney

Following a breath of silence, in a small voice her whispered demand came through “Hold”. Abiding by her ask when Omar wrapped his arm around her delicate frame, another order tagged along “Mmh? Talk”. Lightly caressing her hair he started to narrate through legal jargon and the cozily nestled Mohana, content in his embrace, listened to him in admiration.

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