Read Online THE ONE YOU CANNOT HAVE by Preeti Shenoy - Free Book Online Page A

hear each other (or even see each other clearly as the lighting is very low) over the sound of the music, but the girl who is sitting next to me (I cannot make out if her name is Tracy or Gracy) has her hand on my thigh and is stroking it, giving a clear indication of what she wants. She tells me that she wants to smoke and we go to the smoking area.
    Thankfully this is quieter and we can have a conversation. Tracy (or Gracy) is wearing a strapless shoulder dress and she has a nice pair. I have to make an effort to not stare at her cleavage. As she sits down to smoke, her already short dress rides a couple of inches up her thigh and it is tantalising. She is so darn attractive.
    ‘Tell me about In-di-yah, yes?’ she drawls. I do not know how much she has had to drink.
    I find her question funny and I am drunk myself.
    ‘Great country. You must come with me,’ I say and laugh.
    ‘Really? I just might take you up on that,’ she says.
    ‘Sure. I would love it,’ I reply.
    ‘You would love what?’ she asks as she narrows her eyes and licks her lips and looks straight at me.
    ‘You taking me,’ I reply.
    She laughs.
    ‘So let’s go?’ she asks.
    It is that simple. I have never done this before. Mark and the gang are professionals at it. Usually, I just go along with them and leave before I get too drunk and before things start ‘heating up’, which basically means pairing off with women looking for some fun. This is the first time I have gone the whole length. I am just a beginner but I am learning fast. I tell her that we can go to my hotel.
    ‘That is great. As I share a home with three girls, unless you don’t mind them watching,’ she giggles.
    ‘Oh no. I wouldn’t want that!’ I say quickly.
    ‘I was only kidding,’ she says and winks, like she does not mean it at all.
    We decide to leave. I tell Mark that I am leaving with her and he winks and gives me a smile as though to say, ‘Enjoy the night, mate.’
    We take a cab to the hotel and she giggles incessantly. She tells me about how she finds In-di-yah fascinating. My hands are stroking her thighs now and she parts her legs, inviting me to explore further. We can’t wait to get to my hotel room and tear off each other’s clothes.
    It has been two years since I last had sex. This feels so good. No wonder Mark and the others do their ‘pulling’ act so often.
    As soon as we are inside the hotel room, we have wild, unrestrained sex. I am overcome with desire and she kisses me aggressively. I am surprised when she even pulls out a condom from her purse. She is unabashed, insatiable, unstoppable—so darn different from Shruti.
    Fuck. I am having drunken sex with another woman and she is still somewhere at the back of my mind. But Tracy (or Gracy) is begging me to do it harder now and I oblige, shutting out everything else, just indulging in pure physical passion and immersing myself in it totally. This feels amazing.
    And at last we are done. The last thing I think of before falling asleep is that I should have done this a long time back.
    The next morning I wake up with a massive hangover. I only vaguely remember the happenings of the previous night. I remember calling up Mark and heading over to Jamo’s and I remember the three girls, particularly the one with the strapless dress.
    Gradually the events of the night come back to me. I vaguely remember having sex with her and feeling terrific about it. I get out of bed and there is a discarded condom lying on the floor. I pick it up, wrap it in a piece of toilet paper and throw it in the bin. I switch on the kettle for some coffee.
    Then I see the note that she has left for me.
    There is her number and she has scribbled, ‘U were awesome. Call me. xo xo’
    I smile and realise that I still do not know if her name is Gracy or Tracy. But the sex sure has helped ease the pain I was feeling last night.
    Perhaps I would have saved the number had I intended continuing to live in Norwich. But I have a