“That bastard!”

Usha didn't know who she was angrier with, herself or him. That bastard had given her a hickey, and she'd let him. Make it quick, she'd said. She cringed as the memory replayed in her head. What in heavens was wrong with her?

She was grateful that Krish couldn't see the hickey on her neck, or she would've had to die of shame. Does he make you moan like this?

No, you bastard! He's an absolute gentleman who buys you tampons and painkillers.

And that was precisely the problem. Krish was perfect. So why couldn't she have any sexual chemistry with him? Why did she have to find him boring when he was everything a girl could ask for?

She trembled as she rubbed the hickey on her neck, only making herself more aware of its presence.

Damn Rudra.

❤️‍🔥

“Ugh, Dee! You promised! You were going to introduce me to the guy!”

Usha was sitting at her desk, working on her dissertation, when Rina called her.

“You're ungrounded now, right?” Rina asked.

“Yep. Are you free this evening?”

“Yes! And we're not taking that milksop with us today. Let's have a girls' night!” Rina announced excitedly.

Usha laughed. “By the way, how did you both change your names?”

Rina and Mina had officially changed their names to Ria and Mia, respectively, even on their official documents. Usha had always been curious about how they'd managed it.

“There's a lot of paperwork, but it's possible,” Rina explained.

“There's also the risk of your parents getting hurt,” Mina added. “Oof! I remember Papa crying about it for a month, while Mama called us ungrateful.”

“Geez, it's just a name, isn't it?”

“You'd think so,” Mina muttered.

Usha remembered Veer telling her that Siddharth Uncle had taken the whole thing rather badly. Apparently, the man hadn't been particularly thrilled about his daughters deciding to reinvent themselves on paper.

Still, it wasn't as though they'd changed into entirely different people.

Or perhaps they had.

Usha glanced at the time and smiled. A girls' night sounded exactly like what she needed.

Besides, she had a feeling that the evening would be anything but boring.

❤️‍🔥

Usha was sober.

That was the first thing Rudra noticed.

She was dancing in the middle of his club, completely oblivious to the attention she was attracting. Every other man in the room seemed to have his eyes on her, and her table was practically overflowing with complimentary drinks.

Her friends, on the other hand, were getting steadily drunk.

There was another man at their table, but Rudra wasn't particularly bothered by him. The fellow seemed to be dating one of her friends, and Rudra had no interest in wasting his time being jealous of someone who wasn't a threat.

At least, that was what he told himself.

Krish Raizyada wasn't there tonight. Rudra had noticed his absence almost immediately, although he wasn't sure why he cared.

He watched Usha spin around, her hair flying as she laughed at something one of her friends said. She looked happy. Carefree. As though she hadn't a single problem in the world.

Then one of the twins lurched forward.

Rudra straightened in his chair.

Oh, no.

The girl barely had time to turn before she threw up.

All over Usha.

“Mane!”

Rudra was already on his feet.

❤️‍🔥

“Deeeeeeeeee! Aap khoop khoop wonderful aho!”

Usha closed her eyes.

Wonderful. Yes. What a wonderful evening this was turning out to be.

Mina was thoroughly murdering the Marathi language and embarrassing Usha in the process. Worse, she was staring at Rudra as though he were a six-foot tower made entirely of candy.

“Kitna hot distooshhhh!”

Usha wanted to disappear.

Well, she was definitely going to be grounded again.

“Tu khota navhti bolat!”

Mina had switched to speaking exclusively in Marathi, a habit she had acquired courtesy of their mother, Sakshi Rane, who had taught both girls the language. When drunk, Mina's Marathi became even more enthusiastic and considerably less comprehensible.

Usha wanted to dig a hole and die.

“Thanks. Mala khup chaan vatla,” Rudra replied, placing a cup in Mina's hands.

Everyone stared at him.

“Tu Marathi boltos?” Mia asked in disbelief.

“Ho,” he answered casually.

“Dee, mazhyakadun ho aahe!” Mina declared, pointing at herself triumphantly.

Rudra burst out laughing.

Usha blinked.

Oh, this was new.

She'd seen Rudra smirk, scowl, and look at people as though he were contemplating their imminent demise. She hadn't expected him to laugh at her cousin's drunken nonsense.

He tapped the rim of the cup Mina was holding.

“Why don't you drink this? Quickly.”

Mina sniffed it and recoiled.

“Kay aahe? Ewwww!”

“It's a hangover remedy,” he explained patiently.

Usha watched him with growing suspicion. Since when did Rudra Mane play nurse to drunk women?

And why was he so annoyingly good at it?

A little later, Mina was fast asleep, while Rina sat beside her to make sure she didn't wake up and embarrass them all over again. Arya had already left.

Usha was gathering her belongings when Rudra approached her.

“Can I talk to you?”

She looked up at him.

Oh, wonderful. What had she done now?

❤️‍🔥

Tonight had been an unexpectedly informative evening.

Rudra had learnt that she had two cousins who were practically sisters to her, that one of them spoke atrocious Marathi when drunk, and that the other was apparently responsible enough to supervise the chaos.

He'd also learnt that Usha could laugh until her eyes watered, dance as though nobody were watching, and attract the attention of every man in his club without even trying.

Not that he'd been keeping track.

He'd called her aside because he wanted to apologise. The way he'd spoken to her earlier had been uncalled for, and although he wasn't accustomed to admitting when he was wrong, he could at least attempt to make things right.

“What is it?” she asked.

Of course, she wasn't going to make this easy for him.

He deserved that much.

“Will you let me apologise?”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

“I'm sorry. I was wrong to say that.”

“Okay.” She shrugged.

That was it.

No argument. No lecture. Not even a sarcastic remark.

Somehow, her indifference irritated him more than her anger would have.

He cleared his throat and decided to change the subject. “I didn't know you knew Krish Raizyada.”

“Well, he's an old family friend.”

“Just friends?”

They certainly hadn't looked like just friends.

“Ex-boyfriend.”

He wasn't surprised. Rich people tended to date other rich people. Hegemony was how they kept their wealth and influence within their own circles.

“We just broke up,” she added with a shrug, as though it meant absolutely nothing.

“Why? If you don't mind me asking.”

“He thinks I'm a sex addict.”

Rudra had to exercise considerable self-control to keep from bursting out laughing.

Krish Raizyada was probably the only man in the world who could have a beautiful girlfriend with an insatiable appetite for sex and still decide it was a problem. He knew plenty of men who would consider themselves blessed to be in Krish's position.

“Are you?” he asked.

Usha's lips curved into a mischievous smile.

Before he could anticipate her next move, she stepped closer, backing him against the wall of the private lift. She leaned towards his ear, her breath brushing his skin.

“Wanna find out?”

Rudra stared at her for a moment.

Then he gently moved away.

“Nope.”

Her smile faltered.

“Boring.” She rolled her eyes. “I'll just go find some guy to test the theory on.”

Something flickered in her eyes.

Disappointment. Anger. Sadness.

And something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Loneliness.

The sight unsettled him more than it should have.

“No. You won't, sanam.”

The words came out before he'd had time to think them through.

Usha folded her arms and cocked a hip.

“Yeah? Why?”

The lift chimed, and Rudra stepped out into his penthouse. She followed him, clearly expecting an answer.

He walked into the kitchen, picked up a bottle of water, and poured himself a glass.

“Because I won't allow it.”

He slid the glass towards her.

Usha stared at it, then at him.

“Allow? I don't remember asking for your permission.”

He sighed.

Then, rather than argue, he picked up the glass and drank the water himself.

Usha watched him as though she'd suddenly developed an overwhelming thirst.

Was she deliberately trying to drive him insane?

Did Krish Raizyada know that his ex-girlfriend was absolutely irresistible?

Rudra set the empty glass down and wiped his mouth.

“You're a handful, you know that?”

“I do.”

He poured another glass and held it out to her.

This time, she accepted it. She drank slowly, her maroon lipstick leaving a delicate imprint on the crystal.

“Yet you're obsessed,” she murmured.

He couldn't deny it.

Obsessed was an ugly word. An inconvenient word. One that suggested a complete lack of control.

And yet, it was the only word that came close.

He was curious, too. All these years, women of every kind had walked through his club. Beautiful women. Intelligent women. Women who knew exactly how to get what they wanted from a man.

He'd barely given any of them a second thought.

So what was it about her?

She placed the glass on the counter with a soft clink.

Rudra leaned against the kitchen island, his gaze following her every movement. His thumb brushed the rim of the glass, tracing the curve of her lipstick imprint.

A crescent of maroon.

He heard her sharp intake of breath.

There it was again. That ridiculous awareness between them. The way she watched him when she thought he wasn't looking. The way he couldn't seem to stop looking at her.

She wasn't Chandni.

He knew that.

So why was he this fascinated by a woman whose name he didn't even know?

He was thirty-two years old. He'd spent years convincing himself that he'd outgrown carnal desires and that physical attraction was an inconvenience he could easily ignore.

Yet here she was, standing in his kitchen, and he was having a decidedly difficult time remembering why he'd ever considered himself above such things.

He needed to do something about it.

Preferably before he lost what little common sense he had left.

So he did the next best thing.

He rounded the island and caught her by the hips.

Usha's eyes widened as he lifted her onto the counter. She instinctively reached for his shoulders, her fingers curling around them as he stepped between her knees.

His hands settled on her waist.

It was astonishing how naturally she fitted against him, as though their bodies had somehow figured out something their minds were still arguing about.

He should have moved away.

Instead, he drew closer.

“There's something you should know,” he murmured.

She tilted her head. “What?”

“I don't kiss. On the mouth.” He paused, watching her reaction. “Just wanted to let you know before we do this.”

For the first time that evening, Usha looked genuinely surprised.

Then she smiled.

“Too bad. I'm a good kisser.”

“Hmm.” His gaze dropped to her lips before returning to her eyes. “I'm sure you are, sanam.”

“Then you're missing out.”

“Perhaps.”

She opened her mouth to deliver another clever retort, but he turned her towards him, bringing her chest flush against his.

Her breath caught.

Rudra brushed his lips against her ear before pressing a kiss just beneath it. She shivered, her fingers tightening around his shoulders.

He traced the line of her jaw, then moved to her neck.

When his lips found the pulse beating beneath her skin, she tipped her head instinctively, giving him better access.

He lingered there, feeling her heartbeat flutter beneath his mouth, before sucking gently at the delicate skin.

Usha let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh.

“Seriously?” she whispered when he finally lifted his head. “You're obsessed with hickeys, aren't you?”

I'm obsessed with you.

The words rose to his lips, startling him with their simplicity.

He swallowed them.

“If I could mark your whole body, I would.”

Her eyes widened, but the smile that followed told him she wasn't nearly as scandalised as she ought to have been.

“Possessive much, Rudra?”

He brushed his thumb over her waist.

“You have no idea, sanam.”

❤️‍🔥

The next morning, Usha stood in front of her mirror and counted.

Once.

Twice.

She even leaned closer to make sure she hadn't miscounted.

Thirty-four.

Thirty-four hickeys.

She stared at her reflection in absolute horror.

“THAT BASTARD!”

And the worst part?

She wasn't entirely sure she regretted a single one.