Page 40 of Born in Ruin

She stopped thinking and just moved. Her hand pressed against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm. Then, with a sharp inhale, she leaned in. The first touch was soft, fleeting, but a heartbeat later, she deepened it, her lips moving against his.

Ishaan stilled for a fraction of a second but then something in him snapped. His fingers, which had been lax against the sheets grasped her wrist, holding her there. His lips parted beneath hers, and the kiss turned desperate, searching.

She shivered as his free hand slid up, fingers skimming her waist, then curling around the nape of her neck, pulling her down to him. A quiet, breathless sigh escaped her as he tilted his head, meeting her kiss with a hunger that spoke of endless, frightening depths.

Mayukhi sank into him, pressing closer, her fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt. She kissed him harder, her breath mingling with his, her heart racing. When she finally pulled back, her lips swollen, her breathing ragged, she knew without a doubt that in this moment, something had changed forever. Ishaan’s expression was unreadable. His thumb brushed against her wrist absentmindedly, as if grounding himself. Silence stretched between them, thick and crackling, but neither looked away.

“Let’s do it,” he murmured, breaking the spell.

“Do what?” she asked, dazed and disoriented.

“Let’s steal it back.”

A smile broke through the foggy lust that seemed to engulf her. “Shit stirrers unite,” she whispered.

“Shit stirrers unite,” he agreed, still looking at her with that intense, searching gaze, the one that saw all the way to the insecure, anxious girl she’d always been, the one who’d grown a hard shell to defend herself.

Mayukhi forced herself to get up from the bed. “We should get back to the others,” she said, loosening her hair before retying her ponytail.

“Mayukhi?”

He spoke just as she reached the door. Mayukhi paused, not turning back. She wasn’t sure she would be able to keep going if she looked back at him.

“Yes?” Her husky voice betrayed all the emotion she was holding back.

“Consent is a thing,” he said, laughter threading through his voice. “For men too. Next time, please ask me first before you kiss me.”

Irritation tempered with the bizarre urge to laugh had Mayukhi shaking her head and walking out without replying. The bloody ass could steal his trophy back on his own. He was down one shit stirrer on his team.

TWENTY-ONE

Ishaan

“Ish, we-“ Amay began the minute Ishaan emerged from his bedroom.

“You want to watch your back, Brain Trust.” Ishaan swaggered over to where his smoothie still sat on the kitchen island and grabbed it. “Mygirl and I are stealing that trophy back.”

Amay stopped, mid apology, a grin spreading across his face. “Yourgirl, is she?”

Ishaan dropped his voice to a sepulchral whisper. “You won’t see us coming,” he promised.

Amay grinned. “And yet, you saw fit to give me advance warning.”

Oops. This is what happened when he couldn’t resist the urge to say shit like ‘my girl’.

Dhrithi called them over, her worried gaze resting on Ishaan’s face. He pulled on her braid making her squeal as apology for making her worry, and went to sit beside ‘his girl’ wholooked at the smoothie he was holding and wrinkled her nose. Nobody else was drinking theirs except Dhrithi who’d taken one tentative sip before gagging.

Virat walked into the room from the balcony, pocketing his phone and all teasing died down. He sat down across from Mayukhi and slid a picture across to her. Ishaan saw Mayukhi’s face blanch when she realised what she was looking at but she didn’t look away.

“Who is she?” Mayukhi asked, putting the picture down on the table, face down.

“You don’t recognise her then?” Virat asked in response.

Mayukhi shook her head. “It’s hard to say for sure though. The blindfold covers a bit of her face and the angle from which it’s taken...It’s hard to say.” Her voice trailed off into nothingness.

“And the men?” Virat’s gaze didn’t waver from her face.

Mayukhi shrugged. “I don’t recognise any of those dicks or arses either. That little dick in the corner,” she tapped a spot on the picture. “Is too small for anyone to even see forget recognise.”

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