This story is also written on the couples Arshi, Mishbir and Adiya respectively on Wattpad and India Forums. This story includes mature scenes that may not be suitable for younger audiences

After three complacent years of a contract marriage that suits both their needs emotionally but never physically, Abir has had enough of desiring something more with his beautiful wife so decides to give her a choice; add sex to their relationship or allow him to find his release elsewhere.

Will Mishti give herself over to her husband or watch as somebody else does?

•••

Better three hours too soon than a minute too late was a quote from the dead, written in a book penned by the late William Shakespeare himself- a man who she'd never met, but a man who spoke to her nonetheless.

It was with those words in mind that she shot up from the comfort of her Queen size bed, shoved away the comforter that had seen wear and tear and rushed straight to the bathroom, knocking her alarm clock over as she did. "Shit" Mishti growled, combing a brush through her tousled locks of black while simultaneously throwing water over her face.

She was late, so damn late. And if she lost this client she'd also lose her job and whereas the though of no more early mornings made her consider returning to bed, she needed the money if she wanted to be able to pay her way.

With her phone between ear and shoulder, one trouser leg on and her foot stuck mid-way in the other she clambered into the kitchen "Yes, yes I'm so sorry, I had an um-" pausing at the sight of a steaming cup of coffee calling her name, she lunged for it, uncaring when the heat scorched her tongue and doused her throat in fire.

From across the kitchen, her husband stood with his brow up and his large hand in a flannel that dabbed his sweaty skin. He'd just gotten back from his morning work out in time to prepare her coffee for her- she never had the time to do so herself.

Cutting off, she groaned loudly.

"Rough morning?"

She grinned "You could say that, thanks for the coffee" dropping the cup into the sink, she grabbed a shirt from a hanger and began to button it up.

"Um," Abir flexed his bareback as he walked toward her. "That's mine".

"What?"

"My shirt" he gestured to the baggy cream colour hanging over her slim black trousers.

"Oh" Mishti laughed, "Do you mind? I'm in a rush" nodding gratefully at his shrug, she spun on her heel, held a necklace around her neck and fiddled with the clip at the back. By the time she searched for help, he'd returned to the corridor in his finest navy suit that outlined his figure. "A-".

"Already on it" he called, hot breath on her back as he clicked the hook of her rose gold necklace. Soothing his hands down her shoulders, he dropped a hand to her backside, fingers spanking hard against her butt before chuckling throatily as she scowled playfully at him "Get going".

"Yes, boss" she poked her tongue out, a small smile playing on her lips at the use of the old title she'd once called him when she was a Lawyer for his firm. Mishti shoved her arms through her long grey coat, went to untuck her ponytail from her collar only to find he'd beaten her to it.

"Don't forget" Abir called out, "We have dinner reservations at the Hilton tonight".

At his words, her body slacked, how could she forget? Monthly dinners with his colleagues was afterall a part of their contract, the very same contract that required her to put on a show as a happily married couple when the word couple was the furthest thing from what they were, from what they'd ever be.

•••

Mishti hadn't began at the top of the food chain, instead, she'd crawled, begged and spilt blood and tears to get there. At first, an internship at Rajvansh Law Firm that she'd only gotten because her Grandfather knew his.

Slowly she'd managed to collect a few job offers, a handful of small businesses that paid her pennies until she finally got into the corporate world and started making the big bucks and a name for herself. Purposely keeping her own name so as not to be confused with her husband, she'd been proud of her own success, kept her independence and firmly told Abir that she would still pay for what she could regardless of the fact that her money looked like nothing in comparison to his.

Typing up one more contract, she pushed her pen between her teeth and sighed "Danny?"

"Yes?" Daniel threw her a gleaming smile as he curved his neck around the door. "Need a drink?"

"If it's alcoholic" continuing to scan her eyes over the words, she tapped her nails on the desk, downing the glass the second it reached her fingertips.

Being Mishti's secretary for the past few years had, had its highs and lows, but he wouldn't change it for the world. She was a lovely woman, easy to talk to and never judgemental, truth be told she was like the older sister he never knew he needed.

"These damn contracts are driving me insane, so many loopholes that old men don't like me to point out" rolling her eyes, she switched off the computer.

"Rich old men" he winked, "Though with their common sense I can't imagine how".

"Oh shh" she laughed. "What time is it?"

"7:15 exactly, why?"

"Oh my god!" Jumping up, she hissed as her elbow swung into the tumbler smashing it into several pieces near her foot. "Goddamn it, I'm late, again".

"Bye," he shouted, though as usual, he wouldn't get a response. Every night ended this way, she stayed late to work, got caught up in conversation then ran out because time never ticked in her favour, but he didn't mind, everyone had their qualities, being late was hers.

•••

"Don't" Mishti held a hand up to stop him from admonishing her, "I know I'm late, I'll be five minutes" she lied. She wasn't like him, he was able to wear the exact same suit all day, she, on the other hand, arrived home looking like a sewer rat who was in dire need of a wash.

Listening to the spray of shower hit her body, his head shook as he eyed his watch. While he was grateful for her company when these events were helped, he disliked the looks of annoyance when he arrived an hour late, seemed a beautiful woman on his arm could do many things, but earning him forgiveness for a multitude of late arrivals just wasn't one of them.

Bumping into him with a hoard of gold earrings in her hand, she bit her tongue when his hands coiled around her upper arms to keep them both balanced "Sorry" she muttered. Holding up her jewellery to her ears in front of the mirror behind his shoulder that took up her view.

"Red ones" taking the rest, Abir slammed them onto the side. "Now can we go?"

"We can go" it was only as she stepped out that she realised she'd forgotten one thing "I forgot my-".

"Shoes" he shook the suede heels in his hand, dropping onto one knee, he lifted her foot and pushed them into place, his fingers playing special attention to her calves that tightened beneath his ministrations. Rubbing soothing circles over her foot with his thumb, he huffed upon rising back up to his full height "Let's go". Turning out of the driveway, he moved his focus from the empty road to his wife, splaying his hand over her thigh, he tucked his middle finger beneath the lace garter a few inches above her knee, "New?"

Watching his hand carefully, she gulped "New" she nodded.

"Hm" he husked over his next words, "You should leave your hair down more often" his finger remained knotted where they were.

"Shit, I was meant to put it up" her hands moved to rectify her mistake.

"Don't" he ordered briskly.

So she didn't. "Who's there tonight?"

"Alana and Ron" he smiled tightly.

"Oh, God" she groaned, head thrown back in distress, "If he touches me again I'll, I'll".

"You'll?" Abir's lips curled in amusement, a breathy chuckle warming her cheek when he turned to face her. "I need you to talk with Pam tonight, her husband is being difficult when it comes to signing our agreement, if she was on our side then" he trailed off.

"Gotcha" sliding his hand away, Mishti pulled her black dress down lower so her intimate choice of accessory was hidden from him. Peering out the window, her breath caught at the sight of Cardamon- her ex's restaurant- the one she had vowed never to step foot in again after their very, very messy break-up.

It was after the heartbreak turned to hate that she agreed to Abir's controversial proposal of a commitment contract where they'd be a loving couple in the eye of the public and friends in their shared home. It hadn't taken a genius to understand why he'd made the offer, women followed him like lost puppies who craved his body and his money, the only way to end the vicious cycle of one night stands that hit the papers with labels of a blooming relationship was for him to actually get into a relationship and she just so happened to be the perfect person for him to do that with.

It wasn't the type of thing to work for everyone, but it worked for her, it worked for them. In ways he was one of her best friends, he'd helped her through a tough time, made her laugh and wasn't exactly bad to look at. In another world perhaps she'd want more, but in this reality, she was happy where she was and it seemed he was too.

"Eyes on the prize?"

"Huh?"

He nodded to the building they'd just passed "Dean's place of work" his tone was glum.

"Are you insinuating that Dean is some kind of prize for me?"

Pulling up outside the restaurant, he sighed heavily "All I'm saying is you should be over him by now, it has been three years".

"I am!" She exclaimed loudly. "I'm not that sad".

"Never said you were" massaging his temple, he turned his body to her. "All I'm saying is that you can't live your life expecting everyone to be like him".

"I don't expect you to be like him" she reasoned.

"That's different" and it was, they weren't together. "You've got to give people a chance to be better".

"Are you trying to say I should give you a chance?" Her brows furrowed, exactly where was he going with this?

"No, no I" he huffed, "No". His gaze was cautionary "That's not what this marriage requires, it's not that kind of marriage, all I'm saying is he still affects you and he doesn't deserve to have that kind of hold over you".

"He doesn't have a hold over me" Mishti really didn't want to get into this, especially not after the day she'd had.

Abir scoffed "Sure".

"What, you don't believe me?" Following after him as he got out, she caught up.

"Never said that" he spoke bluntly as if suddenly uninterested.

"You didn't have to" her arms crossed over her chest in a protective manner.

"Fine" he threw his hands up, stopping atop a stair that was two places higher than the one she stood on, "So I don't believe it, do you really blame me when you get that look on your face whenever we pass his damn restaurant?" The last thing he wanted was a shouting match with her in public, but he couldn't help himself.

"What has it got to do with you anyway?" She yelled.

"You're my wife" he grabbed her arm to stop her tottering over, the look in his eye dark with blots of red from the intensity of his stare that went right through her.

"In namesake only!" She retorted, shrugging him off.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped back "You're right".

"Damn right I am, I'm going home" she'd had enough, being around him any longer would only sever their friendship when they'd argued like this and regardless of how much he'd grated on her nerves tonight, she really didn't want that.

"I can't just turn up without you" he chased her down.

"Sure you can" she opened the car door with her spare key, "And you can get a taxi home too".

Watching the car zoom away, he stamped his heel " Fuck" he breathed out, nails sharp on his scalp when his hand strayed through his hair in angst.

•••

Abir found Mishti in his shirt huddled beneath a large fluffy blanket as she watched the T.V. curiously. Switching it off, he dropped down beside her.

"I was watching that" she moaned.

Ignoring her, he cleared his throat "I want to edit our contract".

"Again?" She squeaked, "Abir, we only did it a month ago, if this is about me not going to the dinner then-".

"It isn't" he cut her off. Ensuring his eyes weren't on her, he tried his hardest to ignore her questioning brown orbs that remained on him. "We previously agreed that sex was off the table, I have remained celibate for the entirety of our relationship".

"Right" Mishti nodded, she understood, whereas she busied herself with electronic devices that buzzed her into an orgasm, he couldn't exactly do the same.

"I would like to have sex".

She almost spluttered "I don't mean to be difficult, but I'm not comfortable with you having a girlfriend, if people found out then-".

"I don't want a girlfriend" he interrupted again. Turning to her tiredly, he loosened his tie.

"Then what?"

"Well, that's up to you, my proposal is either I find myself a discreet service offering women who will accept payment for their services or".

"Or?"

"Or I have sex with you".