Double Date (mature)

“Come on, Khushi, at least consider it!”

 

“No. He’s almost five years younger than me, Payal. For god’s sake, he’s your former classmate!”

 

“He’s hot!”

 

“Why don’t you date him then?”

 

“Because his twin is hotter.”

 

I roll my eyes, and she gives me her standard puppy pout.

 

“No. Don’t try that on me. I’m not Dad.”

 

“Khushi! You’re finally single after you broke up with that twat NK-”

 

“He’s a perfectly nice guy!”

 

“Please, did he ever get past your neck?”

 

My pause is enough to tell her, and she gives me a knowing look. I glare at her, unhappy by the fact that my younger, nosy sister knows more about my love life than I do.

 

“Come on, Khush. He’s sweet.”

 

“He has a tattoo. That says ‘fuck me’. How charming.”

 

“Just because you’re a prude-”

 

“I am not a prude!”

 

She pointedly stares at my tight bun and collared shirt, buttoned all the way to the top. I blush furiously, knowing she’s right.

 

“Fine. One night. Then you’re off my back.”

 

She grins, and I immediately regret my words. She drops a kiss on my cheek as she leaves, calling out something about me being the best sister ever.

 

I’m dreading tonight already.

 

***

 

“You’re not wearing that.”

 

I look down at my modest, navy blue dress. It’s perfectly respectable, a great fit for this god forsaken double date with my younger sister.

 

“It’s perfectly-”

 

“Old woman like?”

 

Payal silently thrusts a short, bright blue dress in my hands, along with a pair of silvery stilettos.

 

“You’ll be able to see my underwear.”

 

“Then change out of those granny panties and wear a lacy thong.”

 

“I’m not going to sleep with the guy.”

 

She gives me a look that she’s picked up from our mother, and I sigh defeatedly, and take the clothes from her hands.

 

I tug uncomfortably at the dress as we walk into the restaurant, stumbling as the stilettos hit the ground. I envy Payal, who looks calm and collected despite the height of her own heels.

 

We walk in, and I glance down at the table to see my partner for the evening.

 

He’s leaning back in the chair, his eyes focused solely on me. His eyes trail down my figure, and I pull down the short dress in a failed attempt to cover my exposed legs.

 

Payal elbows me, warning me with her eyes not to pull the dress down again. I grit my teeth uncomfortably when he stands up to shake my hand, pulling out the seat.

 

His hand is warm and large, completely swallowing my much tinier one. I see the words “fuck me” written across his wrist, and fight the urge to roll my eyes.

 

His hair is messy, falling carelessly around his face and hanging around his ears. His eyes are dark, and I feel naked under his probing gaze. I disapprovingly note the way his tie hangs loosely around his neck, his shirt unbuttoned down three. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in three days, a thick layer of stubble darkening his cheeks.

 

Definitely not my type.

 

I eye him with marked disapproval I know he can sense, but he doesn’t seem to care. He gives me a lazy grin as we sit down, making me feel incredibly uncomfortable.

 

I feel a pull in the deep pit of my stomach at the look in his eyes, and I hate it.

 

Payal blushes and flirts shamelessly with his much more pristine twin, a man with glasses and an innocent face. She’s always been fond of men who fall under her spell, and this man seems to be no exception.

 

Unfortunately, his brother is not amused, and tosses a disgusted look their way when she accidentally brushes his foot while she’s playing footsie.

 

I smile brightly at the man in front of me. I might as well attempt to engage in conversation, instead of sitting here awkwardly as my sister giggles the night away.

 

“So… What do you do, Arnav?”

 

“I’m a musician.”

 

I fight the disapproval, and paste a tight smile on my face. He smiles innocently, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

 

I hate that glint.

 

Especially since his dark eyes send the heat pooling between my legs, in a way that thoroughly irritates me.

 

“That’s… An interesting profession. What, er, music do you play?”

 

“Rock.”

 

I shift in my seat as he looks at me, clearly trying to keep his amusement at bay. He’s enjoying my discomfort, and that bothers me.

 

“And you’re an…?”

 

“Engineer.”

 

“Ah. Stuck up and prissy.”

 

My mouth falls open in indignation, and I’m about to argue back sharply when I note that the teasing expression has only grown stronger, along with the pull of desire.

 

He’s incredibly attractive, in a way I never would have expected. The easy carelessness and the glimmer of teasing humor is admittedly a refreshing change from the men I usually date, who tend to be serious and focused on themselves.

 

But he’s immature and reckless, and from what my sister has told me, spends more time strumming his guitar than actually doing anything productive. She did mention that he’s naturally gifted at his studies, but I can’t overlook the fact that he seems like a lazy ass.

 

But the temptation… No. He’s five years younger than me, still in college, and lacks a steady job.

 

And at the ripe old age of 27, I’m looking for someone to settle down with. Not a hot, desperate one night stand.

 

He’s looking at me like he’s mentally undressing me, and I shift in my seat as the throbbing ache grows stronger.

 

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

 

My sister barely acknowledges my statement as I hastily flee the table, unnerved by the deep, aching need I feel for this man that’s nothing but trouble.

 

I clutch the sink, staring into the mirror at my flushed face. My eyes look glassy, and I recognize the tingling want. I haven’t had sex in over a year, since NK was determined to wait until marriage.

 

I barely know this… Kid, but I can’t deny that he would probably give me exactly what I need right now.

 

“Thinking about me?”

 

I let out an embarrassing squeal at the sound of a thick, husky voice behind me, and whip around to find him leaning carelessly against the gray stall.

 

I look around furtively, thanking my stars that no other women are in the bathroom. I lower my voice to a whisper, hoping that my admonishing tone is evident.

 

“What the hell are you doing here? This is the women’s bathroom!”

 

“I’m well aware.”

 

I resist the urge to argue with him, knowing it’ll get me nowhere. He grins at me, a dimple creasing his stubbled cheeks.

 

I curse mentally when my body immediately responds, squeezing my legs together tightly.

 

“You want me.”

 

I gape at him, shocked by his blunt statement.

 

“That is completely, utterly-”

 

“You want me, and that is why you hate me. Because you think I’m reckless and immature, and that I’m too young for you, but you still can’t help that you want me.”

 

I hate the way he’s pegged me effortlessly, and attempt to walk away. He grabs my wrist and tugs me into the open stall, whipping me against the door.

 

His lips are temptingly close to mine, his warm breath fanning over my face as he speaks. His voice is filled with obvious desire, and it makes me go weak in the knees.

 

“You know I’ve liked you since I saw you at our gig in freshman year, right?”

 

“I was a graduate student then!”

 

“And then you started dating NK. Tell me, Khushi, did he ever make you tremble the way you are now?”

 

I fight him, squirming in his grasp. He’s right, of course, but I don’t want to admit that.

 

Because if I do, there’s no telling what I’ll do.

 

“This is incredibly inappropriate. I’m five years older than you, and I’m only here because I’m helping my sister.”

 

“She doesn’t need help, and you know it.”

 

He steps closer, pinning me against the stall door. His lips drop to my neck, sucking gently at the exposed skin. I clutch his shoulders, trying to steady myself.

 

“Arnav, I- oh, fuck it.”

 

I lift his head to mine and press my lips to his in a searing kiss, and he indulges me without hesitation. His mouth opens underneath mine, swiping his tongue against my lips until I’m gasping for breath.

 

I’m already wet, the flimsy thong soaked through with my desire. I attempt to brace myself against the tiny stall as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a condom and easily slipping it on.

 

He lifts my legs around his waist and thrusts into me in one, swift move. He groans, reaching to my hair to let it tumble down my shoulders. It sticks to my neck, and his lips trail across my collarbone, hot and wet.

 

He begins a slow rhythm, careful to keep the movement of the stall door to a minimum. His hands thread through my hair as he nips at the edges of my cleavage, pushed up by my tight dress.

 

I gasp when his tongue probes just underneath the hem, pulling the strapless dress slightly down to expose my breasts. I’m not wearing a bra, and he suckles on them hard, his tongue licking and biting in time to his thrusts.

 

I hear the door to the bathroom open, and my eyes widen as I realize that the stall is making the tell tale noises of a passionate encounter.

 

He smiles impishly, leaning in to whisper against my ear.

 

“I guess you’ll just have to be quiet, Khushi.”

 

I bite back a moan when he brushes his thumb over my wet, exposed nipples, pushing into me once. I tighten my legs around his waist, driving him deeper into me.

 

His hands are teasing my breasts, and he lifts me farther up the smooth, cold door to change the angle slightly. The minute change makes my eyes star, and I feel myself clench against him. My nails mark his skin, sinking into his muscles.

 

I can hear a woman bustling about, blissfully unaware of what’s happening in the stall next to her. She’s humming, and I hear her unzip her makeup pouch.

 

He puts me down, turning me around, pushing my dress up further. I place my palms flat against the cool metal, bracing myself against the stall door when he drives into me from behind.

 

I’m holding the door shut, keeping the pounding to a minimum as he thrusts into me with force. He reaches around me to tease my nub, and I clench my fists, as I stifle my cry of pleasure, a moan making its way out.

 

I hear the woman start at the mirror, and feel her turn to glance at the door.

 

“Miss? Is everything okay in there?”

 

He rubs his fingers in torturous circles, thrusting into me slowly. I’m on the brink of a release, and he knows it.

 

“I’m- oh- I’m f-fine.”

 

My voice is strangled and unsteady, and I can feel his grin as he thrusts into me once more. His fingers slip in just a little, stroking me just where I need it, and it’s enough to send the sensations crashing around me.

 

“Miss? Are you sure? You sound… Pained?”

 

I press my hand to my mouth to cover the sob, closing my eyes tightly as I feel myself tighten once more. He throbs within me pleasantly, and I can hear him struggling to contain his groan.

 

“Miss?”

 

I let out a shuddering breath when I come down, steadying my breathing before I attempt to answer.

 

“I’m- I’m fine. Just… Cramps, you know?”

 

I feel the woman nod, and hear the click of her heels fade as she walks out.

 

He pulls out of me, holding me up against the door. My entire body is weak, and my entire body aches with satisfaction.

 

I haven’t felt this good in a long time, but the indignation fires through me when I realize what he’s done.

 

I whip around to see him smirking as he leans against the side door, clearly satisfied.

 

“That, was completely inappropriate!”

 

I poke him in the chest, but he’s completely unfazed.

 

“How could you do that to me?!”

 

“You didn’t seem to be complaining two minutes ago.”

 

“You’re insufferable.”

 

There’s a poignant silence, and then he’s pressed me up against the wall again, taking my lips in a bruising kiss. I give in immediately, and he rakes his hands through my hair. When we pull back, we’re both panting, my lips tingling and swollen.

 

He smiles slightly, before stepping out of the door, tossing me a wink over his shoulder.

 

“Have a nice evening, madam.”

 

I hear his voice call, and confusion overwhelms me. Why is he addressing me as madam?

 

I step out of the stall to see an elderly lady looking at me in the mirror, and I barely withhold my gasp of surprise.

 

“He’s a keeper if he’s got you that flushed after a romp in the bathroom.”

 

With that, she walks out, leaving me alone in the bathroom, absolutely mortified.

 

I stand outside of the car as my sister exchanges sweet words with Akash, smiling bashfully. I refuse to look at Arnav, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered.

 

My hair is back in the tight bun, and I sigh with relief when she finally decides to sit in the car. I’m about to slide in after her when I feel a sharp tug on my hair, and the silky curtain tumbles around my shoulder once more.

 

Before I can say anything, his husky voice filters in my ear, whispering hotly.

 

“Next Friday, leave your hair down. And skip the thong.”

 

He pushes me lightly into the car, and I ignore my sister’s questioning stare as we drive away.

 

I wink at him through the window, and I see his eyes widen in surprise, the dimple reappearing on his cheek.

 

Maybe… He is my type, after all.