Bollywood Nightmare (10 page)

We had time to kill after buying our new clothes. Shelly went to duty-free with a fist of dollars courtesy of Johnny. “I’ll be fine,” she said, “you guys go. I’ll meet you at the gate. Just don’t be late, I don’t think my old heart could take it.”

“I’ll have him there on time, I promise.” I smiled.

“Make sure you do, Kiya. I like you, I do, but if you hurt my boy I may have to kill you.”

“Mom can be a bit intense, I’m sorry,” Aseem apologised as we walked away.

“No worries, I can understand, I really can.”

“Well, even before I was kidnapped she was protective. Dad died when I was little, you see, so it’s been me and Mom for as long as I remember.”

“She loves you, Aseem, that’s how mums are. My mum’s like that and Dad’s still alive and well!”

“I’m looking forward to meeting your family,” Aseem replied.

“Yeah, only because my dad is one of the biggest Bollywood stars ever.”

“I can’t deny that has some bearing on it, it’s true.” He chuckled. “But then you’re a Bollywood star yourself, right? But that is not why I want to see more of you.”

“How much more of me can you see? I was naked in your presence not long ago.”

“I remember,” he whispered in my ear. “I remember and I can’t wait to get you naked again.”

We wandered aimlessly and chatted. It was lovely. I knew I fancied Aseem but as he talked I realised I liked him too. He was witty and interesting. I was definitely falling for him, as crazy as it was.

I was in the middle of telling him all about the time I buried Johnny’s tea kettle in the sand on our holiday to Goa and how Johnny had been spitting sand for weeks after, when Aseem grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side and into a dark room. “What…?”

“I don’t know, it looks quiet in here.”

“It does? I can’t really see anything, it’s dark.”

“I think it’s a broom closet or something,” he said, “but I don’t care.”

“Why are we in here, then?”

“Oh, darling Kiya, you’re so innocent.” He chuckled, I felt his chest rise and fall against my breast. “We’re in here to fuck.”

“Oh,” I gasped, “I like that idea.”

“Good.” He stopped talking and started kissing. Hard and deep, it was a kiss that brooked no nonsense. I responded in kind, wrapped my arms tightly around him and pulled him in against me. I could feel his arousal pushing against my stomach.

I felt lightheaded. It was probably the lust but could have also been the chemical smell that surrounded us that held a hint of bleach and furniture polish. I was fairly certain we were in a cupboard with the cleaning supplies and that theory was confirmed when I kicked a metal bucket and a wooden stick hit me in the head.

“Ouch,” I cursed, and pushed the mop and bucket away from me.

“Apologies, darling, we’ll make love in a bed soon, I promise,” he cooed and kissed my neck. “But I need you now. I don’t want to wait.”

“No, please don’t wait,” I gasped. He pushed his hands up and under my new T-shirt and squeezed and pressed my breasts through the lace of my fancy new bra. I mewled as he tickled my nipples. I ran my hands down his back to cup his buttocks through the thick denim of his jeans. As our kiss deepened I ran one hand round the front of his trousers, pulled down the zip and popped open the fly.

I was delighted to feel the heavy and hard weight of his cock against my hand with no material to block its softness and heat. I stroked it eagerly and felt my pussy tighten and moisten in anticipation.

“Put your hands up against the wall,” he said and spun me around. I was disappointed at first, losing the heat and the heft of his body next to mine but as he hitched up my long skirt and pulled down my flimsy, lacy knickers I found myself anticipating his next move.

He surprised me with a spank.

“Fuck, your ass calls out for more of that,” he moaned. “I want to see it properly. Want to see your cheeks wobble and darken as I spank you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” I gasped, surprised by the intensity of the yearning I felt inside. “Yes, I would.”

“It’s on my to-do list,” he chuckled. “Now I’m going to fuck you before someone discovers us here.”

“Yes, fuck me, Aseem, please fuck me.”

It took a moment for us to find the amount of bend I needed to give him the perfect angle for entry. It was not the most comfortable position but when his cock filled me I forgot about the cold wall pushing against my breasts and cheek, I forgot the strain in my legs and surrendered myself to his pumping action.

Ever the gentleman, Aseem made sure to reach round and place a finger on my clit. He rubbed and stroked in time with his violent thrusts until I was biting on my lip to stop from screaming out.

“Fuck,” he gasped, every muscle in his body clenching as he held himself deep inside me. He held me there on the brink of orgasm and he enjoyed the pleasure coursing through my veins but as soon as he could move again he wiggled his finger up and down and brought me to a panting, moaning and cursing climax, his cock inside me still stimulating me as I clenched my cunt in spasms of delight.

“Better get dressed and go,” he panted, “someone could come at any moment.”

“Not quite yet, Aseem, I need a bit of a break before I come again.”

He playfully slapped my arse and I giggled.

“Wicked girl,” he chortled, “now make yourself decent, we’ve got a plane to catch.”

* * * *

It was very strange going from fucking Aseem in the cleaning cupboard to sitting between him and his mother on the aeroplane. I had to be on my best behaviour and all I really wanted to do was run my hands all over him. Instead I ended up making small talk with his mum. It was a very strange situation indeed.

“Well, my mum is from London and my dad is Mumbai through and through, they met at a film premiere.”

“My mom and dad met through their student job. They flipped burgers together. My dad always said it was his lowest point, flipping sacred bits of cow for the uncultured masses, but he would have eaten a cow or two if he had to in order to meet my mom.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” I replied.

“Yeah, and Dad never was a very good Hindu. He came to America to escape all that. I was brought up with no religion behind me at all. It’ll be interesting to be immersed in a culture where religion is so interweaved into everyday life.”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it.” I smiled.

“Yeah, I’m sure I will. I’m very adaptable and let’s face it, America was a nightmare for me, not a dream. I’m looking forward to my new start with my boy in India. Mumbai no less! Better than being a cook at Joe’s Diner for the rest of my life back in the good old US of A.”

“I’m glad you’re seeing this as a positive thing, Shelly. I promise I’ll do all I can to make sure you have a good life in Mumbai.”

“I have my son back.” She smiled over at Aseem who was fast asleep in the seat beside me. “Nothing else matters. Okay, so I had a few acquaintances back home who I’ll miss but I have no other family but him, no lover, no really close friends. I’m ready to start again.”

“Good. I’m sorry that things have happened in such a whirlwind.”

“Look, sweetheart, life never ever goes as you’d like. I’m just glad I have Aseem. He’s a good boy and he’s my world. I was heartbroken when he left. You see, he’s always been so good. He’s always worked hard, kept his head down and looked after me. So when he didn’t come home I knew there was something wrong. The cops were a damn waste of time, said they couldn’t track him down, that he was just another statistic. They said he was probably a junkie, dead or off looking for the next fix. Idiots. I knew something was very wrong so in the end I decided he must be dead. I couldn’t see any other reason for him not to come home.”

I nodded sympathetically.

“I’ve lived with that fact for the past four and a half years. My son is back from the dead. I’d live in the middle of the desert if I had to. I’d eat my own left leg if I had to. I’ll do anything to make sure I don’t lose him again.”

“No self-cannibalism, if that’s even a real term, no. India will be good for you both, I’ll do all I can to guarantee that.”

“Thank you, Kiya, you seem like such a nice girl. So how long have you known Aseem?”

“Erm, I think it’s about twenty-four hours or so now,” I replied.

“Really, only a day?” She raised a brow.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “The guys who kidnapped him got a hold of me too. Aseem helped me escape.”

“Wow, there’s a story for the grandkids, eh?”

“Yeah,” I blushed, “though we’re barely dating yet!”

Shelly laughed heartily. “I won’t bake the cake yet then.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t,” I replied with a grin. “I think he needs to get to know me a bit better first. He might go off me once he knows what I’m really like.”

“I don’t think so.” Aseem’s dark, rumbling tone broke into the conversation. “I doubt you’re anything less than completely awesome.”

“Aw.” I smiled and squeezed his thigh.

“Ha,” Johnny laughed, finally paying attention to the conversation going on around him. “I could tell you some stories to the contrary.”

“Oh, hush, no one asked you.”

“I’ve got photos too to go with many of those stories. I’ve got some especially good ones of when she was a baby…” Johnny dropped his hand to his pocket to tap around for his mobile phone.

“Leave it right there, buddy. Remember who your damn master is, alright?”

Aseem laughed, Johnny sighed and shook his head but left his phone in his pocket.

“Master?” Shelly asked.

“Oh, it’s a long story,” I smiled, “maybe I’ll tell you it sometime.”

The plane journey was long and thankfully uneventful. I even managed to get a little sleep. It was a good job because I had a lot of explaining to do once I got home. Mum screamed like a banshee and threw herself at me when I walked up the drive to the front door.

“Thank God you’re still alive,” she sobbed. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“Mum, I’m fine, really, I’m fine.”

“I love you, Kiya, promise me you’ll never leave me again.”

“I love you too, Mum. I’ll do my best to never worry you like that in future.”

I carefully phrased my response so it sounded like I was promising what she wanted me to promise without actually committing to any such thing.

Dad hugged me equally as tightly. It felt so good to be back in his arms, to be back with my family. I had at one point thought I’d never see them again. It was such a relief to hold them close and tell them I loved them.

“Now, come on in and introduce us to your new friends.”

Introductions seemed to go well. Dad smiled heartily and escorted Aseem and Shelly to the guest bedrooms.

“We’ll sort you out a place of your own tomorrow, but until we find something suitable you can stay here, in the guest wing. This is the second best room, we’ve put your mum in best.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Rahul, for your kindness,” Aseem said, his gaze wandering round the room. “Gosh, this is a really nice room.”

“Oh, well, anything for the man who rescued my daughter.”

“She kind of rescued me too,” he shrugged, “if she hadn’t been wearing that amulet we’d have never gotten out.”

“My amulet?”

“Yeah, it worked like a key, Dad, any idea why?” I asked.

“Not really, not really. It’s just some old family hand–me-down thing.” Dad spoke far too fast and I knew he was trying to hide something. “But I’m glad it helped you both out of a tight spot.”

“It sure did. Thanks again, Rahul.”

“Okay, well, we’ll leave you to get settled.” Dad clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Come on, Kiya.”

As I walked towards the door I looked back and Aseem blew me a kiss.

“I’ll be back soon,” I whispered.

He nodded. I didn’t want to leave him at all but I supposed you have to behave when your dad is still in the room with you.

“So, who is this guy?” Mum asked when I came back into the front room. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Mum,” I gasped, “I’ve only known him for about a day!”

“Sure, but I saw the way you looked at him, young lady. You’re into him.”

“Well, I might be,” I replied with a noncommittal shrug. I tried hard to hide the tell-tale heating of my cheeks by looking down to the carpet.

“And he likes you too,” Dad added. “I know when a guy’s got that smitten look and Aseem is very much into you too.”

“Really?” I looked up eagerly.

“Oh, yeah, really,” he replied. “So what is he? A rich heir, a banking tycoon, a doctor?”

“Erm, I don’t know really. He’s been locked up in the warehouse between worlds for the past five years, though. I’m not sure if he’d established a career before that.”

“But he’s from a good family, right?”

“Well, he’s only got his mum and she seems lovely. She’s a cook.”

“Like Delia Smith?” Mum asked optimistically.

“No, like a cook in a café. What does it matter anyway?”

“We only want the best for you,” they both said at the exact same moment.

“Oh, come on, don’t be so damn materialistic.”

“Oh, now Kiya, don’t be so airy-fairy. Do you really think you could go from all this to living in poverty?” My mother shook her head.

“Oh, Mother, come on. I’m a fucking Bollywood star! I’ve got my own money. I don’t need a man to keep me.”

“No, but you don’t want to have to keep a man either,” Dad said with one of his annoyingly knowing nods.

“Well, we’re getting rather ahead of ourselves anyway. I’ve only just met Aseem. He might not be the man I marry.”

“True, too true.” Mum sighed. “I would be happier if you were married. You’d have less chance of getting kidnapped then.”

“Oh, Mum,” I laughed, “I do love you.”

“I love you too, Kiya. Always remember that. Your dad and me would do anything for you.”

“Anything?” I sang in a fake East End accent. I’d always loved Oliver!

“Anything,” she replied in the same singsong voice. Her accent was far more convincing though, being that she actually came from the East End of London.

“My girls,”Dad laughed, “you never cease to make me smile.”