Read Online Spice and Secrets by Suleikha Snyder - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Suleikha Snyder
Ads: Link
Like he cared.
It had been so long since she’d felt cared for. Cherished. Wanted. Sunita fumbled at the fall of his trousers, eager for more of the dangerously addictive sensation. But Davey batted her hands away, backing her against the bed and tumbling them both to the mattress. “My turn, Rani Sahiba . Let me keep my promise.”
Only, again, he acted with tenderness instead of violence. He didn’t rend her kurta in a brutish haste to get to her. He took his sweet time, unknotting the ties of her pyjama and sliding it down over her hips…stroking and kissing every millimeter of skin he uncovered. He pushed up her tunic with an equally unhurried pace, tracing the curve of her belly with his tongue before unhooking her bra and helping himself to that bounty. He touched her until she was mad for it. Mad for him . And only when she was half out of her mind with needing him—begging in Hindi and Gujurati and odd bits of Marathi—did he reach for a condom.
“Just a time-pass?” he murmured as he sank into her. “Not. Bloody. Likely.”
Chapter Eleven
With the bulk of the rains behind it and the cool air coming in off the sea, Mumbai didn’t smell so much like wet decay. Nahin , to Priya it almost smelled like hope. Walking along Chowpatty Beach, past all the food stalls with their fragrant wares, all she could imagine was sharing some pau bhaji with Shona and running down to the sand to immerse their feet in the water. That was what a mother did: spent time with her child. Not this foolish folly she’d embarked upon, looking over the revised dialogues for Khoon and trying to avoid Rahul’s searing gaze and Ashraf’s bitter judgment.
Role thievery was not so uncommon in the industry. It was like a party game, taking gifts from the table and then stealing them from one another’s laps. But Ashraf had won his stardom, na ? He’d worked for it, just as she was working for hers. Only to have Rahul storm in and take it as though he was owed it. Would he take Shona from her in the same fashion?
She would be helpless to stop him. For even with all of her glamour and increasing industry currency, she was still just a woman. At the mercy of a society that saw her as nothing, even as they worshipped their many-armed goddesses. Anita Didi did the best she could to prepare her schoolgirls for the future, to teach them and shape them and strengthen them…but it was impossible to fight the inevitable.
Priya could think of only two women who had truly flouted Indian convention: Indira Gandhi and Phoolan Devi, the Bandit Queen. Both had been assassinated. What did that say for all other bold women? Film actress or seamstress…it didn’t matter. They were prisoners, and her measure of freedom here in Bombay…it had come with a devastating price.
Priya shivered, hugging herself close and stroking her bare arms to bring the blood back to her skin. It had seemed like a good idea to come down to South Bombay…to get away from the part of the city that was so tied up with Bolly bullshit, to escape her flat and the tightness of the walls and pretend to be a visitor for a little while. But with the vastness of the waters ahead of her, all she could see was her past, present and future laid out like a map.
“ Eesh! ” she huffed, turning back inland toward the road and the lot where her car and driver waited. Her mobile was buzzing, angry at being ignored. She knew it was probably Rahul. Or Kabir. Or that talk show host, Sunny Khanna, who had rung her every day for the last two weeks. She was relentless, determined for Priya to sit on her hot seat and answer all her questions.
It was a risk Priya couldn’t take. She’d taken a dozen too many already, just to come back to work. But doing televised interviews was unwise if she wanted to keep Shona safe. Too many personal questions meant too many chances to accidentally give something away.
Once she was safely seated in the car and headed away from Marine Drive, Priya
It had been so long since she’d felt cared for. Cherished. Wanted. Sunita fumbled at the fall of his trousers, eager for more of the dangerously addictive sensation. But Davey batted her hands away, backing her against the bed and tumbling them both to the mattress. “My turn, Rani Sahiba . Let me keep my promise.”
Only, again, he acted with tenderness instead of violence. He didn’t rend her kurta in a brutish haste to get to her. He took his sweet time, unknotting the ties of her pyjama and sliding it down over her hips…stroking and kissing every millimeter of skin he uncovered. He pushed up her tunic with an equally unhurried pace, tracing the curve of her belly with his tongue before unhooking her bra and helping himself to that bounty. He touched her until she was mad for it. Mad for him . And only when she was half out of her mind with needing him—begging in Hindi and Gujurati and odd bits of Marathi—did he reach for a condom.
“Just a time-pass?” he murmured as he sank into her. “Not. Bloody. Likely.”
Chapter Eleven
With the bulk of the rains behind it and the cool air coming in off the sea, Mumbai didn’t smell so much like wet decay. Nahin , to Priya it almost smelled like hope. Walking along Chowpatty Beach, past all the food stalls with their fragrant wares, all she could imagine was sharing some pau bhaji with Shona and running down to the sand to immerse their feet in the water. That was what a mother did: spent time with her child. Not this foolish folly she’d embarked upon, looking over the revised dialogues for Khoon and trying to avoid Rahul’s searing gaze and Ashraf’s bitter judgment.
Role thievery was not so uncommon in the industry. It was like a party game, taking gifts from the table and then stealing them from one another’s laps. But Ashraf had won his stardom, na ? He’d worked for it, just as she was working for hers. Only to have Rahul storm in and take it as though he was owed it. Would he take Shona from her in the same fashion?
She would be helpless to stop him. For even with all of her glamour and increasing industry currency, she was still just a woman. At the mercy of a society that saw her as nothing, even as they worshipped their many-armed goddesses. Anita Didi did the best she could to prepare her schoolgirls for the future, to teach them and shape them and strengthen them…but it was impossible to fight the inevitable.
Priya could think of only two women who had truly flouted Indian convention: Indira Gandhi and Phoolan Devi, the Bandit Queen. Both had been assassinated. What did that say for all other bold women? Film actress or seamstress…it didn’t matter. They were prisoners, and her measure of freedom here in Bombay…it had come with a devastating price.
Priya shivered, hugging herself close and stroking her bare arms to bring the blood back to her skin. It had seemed like a good idea to come down to South Bombay…to get away from the part of the city that was so tied up with Bolly bullshit, to escape her flat and the tightness of the walls and pretend to be a visitor for a little while. But with the vastness of the waters ahead of her, all she could see was her past, present and future laid out like a map.
“ Eesh! ” she huffed, turning back inland toward the road and the lot where her car and driver waited. Her mobile was buzzing, angry at being ignored. She knew it was probably Rahul. Or Kabir. Or that talk show host, Sunny Khanna, who had rung her every day for the last two weeks. She was relentless, determined for Priya to sit on her hot seat and answer all her questions.
It was a risk Priya couldn’t take. She’d taken a dozen too many already, just to come back to work. But doing televised interviews was unwise if she wanted to keep Shona safe. Too many personal questions meant too many chances to accidentally give something away.
Once she was safely seated in the car and headed away from Marine Drive, Priya
Similar Books
