Page 29

DANIEL

“Is that my scrunchie you have on your wrist, captain?” she asks. “I have been looking for it. When did you steal it?” She frowns as she eyes my hand.

I laugh. “I did not steal it, firecracker.” I brush her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “You left it at my place.”

Her breath hitches slightly. Her eyes follow my hand’s movement, and I feel a swell of satisfaction. “Oh,” she says. Her voice is soft. There’s something so captivating about her in this moment—the way her usual fiery demeanor melts into something gentler, more vulnerable.

“Well, can you return it to me now?” she asks, avoiding my eyes as a blush rises up her cheeks, making me grin.

“Okay.” I smile as I take it off my wrist and extend it to her. Before she can snatch it from my hand, I pull her into my embrace. I inhale the scent of her hair as I pat her head. She slowly hugs me back. “Your hair is so soft.” I sigh.

“Don’t say things like that!” She swats my chest and tries to pull away, but I hold her in her place so that she doesn’t get hurt from the study table.

“Why?” I whisper in her ear, gently nibbling her earlobe. She shudders under my touch.

“It…” She stutters. “It gives me butterflies.” She hides her face in my chest.

I chuckle, gently running my fingers through her hair. “Looks like I will have to do it more then,” I state. She huffs. I look at the family photo she has on her table and adore the little pigtails her younger self has; she definitely looks like her mother.

“I have something for you,” I say as I pull back a little to look into her eyes.

“Something for me?” she asks, her eyes widening slightly, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation in her gaze. I can see the way she’s trying to maintain her composure, but the hint of excitement in her gaze betrays her.

I nod. “Close your eyes,” I say, my voice firm yet gentle. Her eyelids flutter shut and I reach into my pocket, taking out a small jewelry box and opening it.

“You can open it now,” I say softly.

Anya opens her eyes. They widen slightly as she sees the jewelry box. Her gaze flits from the box to my face. “You bought jhumkas for me?” she exclaims.

“Eh?” I twist my face in confusion. “What does that word mean?” I question. “ Jh —” I try to pronounce it. “ Jhumka ?” I have successfully butchered it. It sounds like gibberish coming from my mouth.

A small giggle escapes her lips. “They’re earrings,” she says. “But not just any earrings. They’re traditional Indian earrings.” She adds. “I did not bring many because I don’t get to wear Indian clothes that much here, except if I am visiting a temple, which is also rare.” I love how excited she gets when she is talking about India.

“Why did you buy them though?” she asks, peering intently at me.

“Oh.” I scratch my neck. “ I was stalking you on Instagram. I saw some old posts. You look pretty in Indian attire, I must say,” I confess.

Her mouth falls open. “Oh shit!” She covers her face with her hands. “I am so embarrassed. I really need to delete those posts,” she remarks.

I frown, taken aback by her reaction. “Why would you say that?”

Anya looks at me and hesitates, her hand still covering her face, but she peeks out from behind her fingers. “It’s just… they’re old pictures and I look so cringe in them,” she explains, biting on her bottom lip.

I chuckle, taking her hand in mine. “I have to make some things clear, I guess.” I narrow my eyes at her. “I will not hear anyone talk shit about my girlfriend.” I pull her forcefully towards me, and she crashes into my chest. Her breath hitches. “Not even you. Keep that in mind,” I say sternly as I bend down and peck her cheek.

“I just—” Before she can complete her sentence, I put a finger on her lips.

“I am very serious, Anya.” I glare at her. She studies my face for a moment and then smiles at me softly.

“Okay,” she breathes out. “Can you help me put them on?”

“Of course, Firecracker,” I say, my voice gentle. “Turn around for me, baby,” I whisper in her hair.

Her body visibly trembles as I run my fingers across her neckline. I can feel the heat radiating from her skin, the soft hitch in her breath. I can feel her pulse quicken under my touch, a steady thrum against my fingertips. “Stay still for me, Firecracker,” I murmur in her ear, my voice low and husky. “Let me put these on you.” I suppress a smirk, loving the way she responds to my touch. I take the earrings gently in my hands.

I gently thread the earrings through her earlobes, careful not to pull too hard. The soft metal against her skin gleams, the earrings catching the light beautifully. Leaning in, I press a gentle kiss onto the curve of her neck. Her skin is soft and warm under my lips.

She lets out a soft moan as my lips press against her skin. She tilts her head to the side, giving me more access to her skin. I can feel her body leaning into me, her muscles slackening under my touch. “You look absolutely beautiful with those earrings,” I whisper against her skin, my hands still on her shoulders. “Open your eyes, Anya,” I command.

Her eyes flicker open, a mixture of arousal and admiration in her gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, the heat radiating off her skin. She attempts to speak, but the words seem to get stuck in her throat. I turn her around so she can face me. Her gaze is fixed on my face. I reach out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

I lean down, biting her lower lip. Her body involuntarily leans toward mine. Anya’s breath quickens as my teeth graze her lower lip, and my hands trace patterns on her jawline. “You’re so beautiful,” I murmur, my voice low and gruff. My fingers dance along her collarbone, tracing the curves of her body through the thin material of her shirt.

She pants as I cup her right breast. My other hand is still on her neck, holding her in place. Her body feels warm and soft under my touch, the thin material of her shirt not doing much to hide her shape.

I continue exploring her body with my hands, enjoying the way she responds to me. “You’re so responsive. It’s driving me wild,” I say, my hands moving down to her hips, pulling her closer to me, if that’s even possible.

“You want me to kiss you, baby?”

Anya’s response is a gentle nod, a quiet admission of her needs and desires. “Yes.” She breathes out, her words almost strangled by the thickness in her voice.

“Ask nicely, Firecracker.” I smirk. Her gaze locks with mine, desire and need reflecting in her eyes. I can almost hear her thoughts, her dilemma of submitting to her needs or maintaining her stubbornness. She doesn’t like to ask for things. She doesn’t believe in requesting. She’s too proud of a woman, and I love every bit of it, but I want her to know there’s no shame in fulfilling her needs, even if that means she has to ask me for it. I love seeing her struggle, the war going on between her mind and her body. It’s a beautiful sight.

I bring my hand to her jawline, my thumb tracing the contours of her face. “Say it, baby.” I kiss her forehead.

“Please…please kiss me,” she whispers breathlessly.

I bite my lip to smother a satisfied smile. “Since you asked so nicely, baby,” I murmur, my voice dripping with a hint of authority before my lips crash into hers.

The kiss is intense and passionate, our mouths molding together as she sinks in my embrace. Her lips are so soft under mine, and I can’t resist the urge to deepen the kiss. I bite her lower lip gently, my tongue tracing it before pushing in, tasting her. She moans softly, surrendering herself to me.

Her scent surrounds me, filling my senses and making me want more. She tastes so sweet, and I can’t get enough. As our mouths move together, my hands begin to wander, exploring the curves and planes of her body. My fingers slide up her sides, tracing a path up her shirt to the bare skin of her abdomen. I feel a shiver go through her and I know she’s just as affected by me as I am by her.

I deepen the kiss and hold her tight as I push her back towards her bed. She breaks the kiss, her breath coming out in pants as her back hits the mattress, her eyes fixed on mine, wild with desire. Her lips are swollen, and her hair is a mess.

“I need you, Firecracker,” I growl.

“Good thing I am all yours to take captain,” she whispers, her fingers running across my chest, feeling the muscles through my shirt. I groan.

I lean over her. My body presses into hers. “Anya—” The door creaks open. We both freeze as I look up to see Siya standing in the doorway, a confused expression on her face.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” She glances at us and her face turns red before she averts her gaze. “I am so sorry.”

“Siya—” Anya pushes me away, but Siya closes the door with a bang. I turn to face Anya, who is now sitting up, looking flustered and disoriented. Well, I guess we cannot continue further. She covers her face with her hands.

We sit in silence for a few moments. The only sound in the room is our ragged breaths. I watch as Anya smoothes out her hair and straightens her clothes, trying to compose herself. I run a hand through my hair, feeling a pang of frustration. I readjust my dick in my pants.

I look at her. She looks at me through her hands. We maintain eye contact, and then she bursts out laughing loudly, and I join her, shaking my head.

“You should probably check on your friend.” I nudge her as we fall on the bed side-by-side. “She looked traumatized,” I add, turning to face her.

“I think I am more traumatized.” She sighs. I pull her into me, my arm wrapping around her waist, holding her close. I bury my face into her neck, nuzzling the soft skin there, taking in her scent.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, breaking the comfortable silence between us. I groan, annoyed at the interruption again, and reluctantly reach for it. The number flashing on the screen is unknown, which makes me frown. Anya glances at me, concern etched on her face.

“Who is it?” she asks softly.

“Don’t know,” I mutter as I answer, pressing the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Is this Daniel Grayson?” A calm yet urgent voice on the other end asks.

“Yes, this is he. Who’s calling?” I respond, my grip on the phone tightening slightly.

“This is Dr. Matthews from St. Peter’s Hospital. Your father has been admitted here. We recommend you come as soon as possible.” The words hit me like a freight train, slamming into my chest with crushing force. For a moment, the world around me fades, leaving only the static noise of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.

“W-what?” I manage to croak, my throat tightening as the weight of the news settles in. Dad? Hospitalized ? The words don’t feel real like a cruel trick my mind is playing on me.

“Your father—he was brought in a little while ago,” the voice continues, but the rest of the sentence blurs, drowned out by the deafening buzz in my head.

I can’t lose him. Not now. Not already.

“Daniel?” Anya’s voice breaks through, her hand resting on my arm. Her touch is grounding, reminding me I’m not alone in this moment.

“I…” My voice cracks, the lump in my throat making it almost impossible to speak. “I have to go.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away, trying to keep it together. The phone slips from my trembling hand but Anya catches it before it hits the floor.

“What happened?” she asks, her voice steady but her eyes filled with worry.

“My dad,” I choke out, the words tasting bitter and wrong on my tongue. “He’s in the hospital.”

Her grip on my arm tightens as her expression shifts to something softer, full of understanding. But no amount of comfort can lessen the fear clawing at my chest.

“I am sorry, I have to go.” I get up hurriedly.

“Do you want me to accompany you?” she asks. I stare at her. That does sound tempting, because if this is the worst case scenario, I am probably going to break. But she does not deserve that. I cannot dump anything on her. Not now.

“No,” I say firmly. “I will call you as soon as I leave. I promise.” I kiss the crown of her head. She looks worried, and I hate that I am the cause of it, but before she can say anything, I turn around to leave.

Dad, please be fine.

∞∞∞