-• yes, I'm jealous •-

Taranya

I've conveniently switched addressing my husband as Rudra instead of Shourya, even in my thoughts. And for some reason, now, the dynamics of our relationship feels raw, ravenous, and most importantly, real. I'm clueless as to what impacted the change. He's still the same man, insufferable, instantaneous and sometimes, slightly insensitive. But after spending days pretending as Shourya's wife, who has the same face- if we don't count the least differences, the same height, physical structure, hell even the same voice, and still, he's nothing like his half brother. Absolutely nothing. The world might mistake them one as the same, but me, God, I've been introduced to every littlest, tiny, insignificant difference that sets Rudra apart from Shourya, and I loathe the knowledge, because the longer I look at Rudra, the many qualities I find of him that are truly endearing. At least to me.

Sitting at the same table, between the two men, one whose wife I am, and one who misunderstands me as his, I can be in hell and still suffer less. Shourya has settled himself at the right end of the table, to his adjacent I sit, and to my right, Rudra. My brother right across from him on the other side.

Three forks scrape across the fine china plates, all the men busy devouring the white sauce pasta. I drink spoonfuls of my soup slowly, hyperaware of the man sitting right next to me, his thigh brushing mine ever so often.

"Is it difficult?" Shourya breaks the silence, catching all eyes to him, "to be running business in my place?"

Rudra shakes his head. "Not at all."

"That's a relief," Shourya sighs. "You already have to act as me in the limelight, pretending to be Tara's husband," his hand comes to rest on the back of my palm. I stiffen, noticing the curl of Rudra's fist as he slowly, subtly hides it beneath the table. "I can't imagine how torturous it would be if you were forced to handle business, especially if you've no interest in it."

Rudra plasters a fake, plastic smile. "I'm fine."

"I was also meaning to ask," as he continues, I pull my hand from underneath his and place it on my lap, thanking my lucky stars that he doesn't notice, retracting his hand to himself nonchalantly. "I've been browsing internet lately, and I see no mention of yours on the web. Is there any specific reason for that?"

"I'm the black sheep of our family."

Shourya straightens, "Oh, is that because -"

"Because I'm illegitimate, yes." Rudra nods.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember anything and I-"

"It's okay." Rudra assures, his voice hard, grated. "I don't care. I'm flourishing on my own," his eyes shift to Yuvraaj who nods. "And I don't need the family legacy to make a name for myself. I'm just here to help you."

Liar.

I shouldn't be surprised, but I am. The way lies seamlessly roll off his tongue, as if he's reciting spiritual mantras from some holy book.

"Thank you," Shourya smiles. "But I think I'll have to hold you hostage for a while because I remember shit about business."

I sigh. Poor guy barely passed school, of course he'll be shit at business. I'll be surprised if he could tell the difference between an acute angle and an obtuse angle.

A flash of guilt crosses the ebony eyes, so fast I don't think he is ready to acknowledge it yet.

"I'll work you through the progress, don't worry." He offers genuinely.

It makes my brows fly into my hairline. He nudges me to look ahead. I see Yuvraaj subtly shaking his head at me and realise I've been expressing myself animatedly, much to the two men's chagrin.

"Do you want more pasta?" I ask to ebb off the tension in the atmosphere. Shourya nods with a smile, pulling away so I can serve him. As soon as I lean over the table, a hand clamps down my left thigh, startling me so hard I almost drop the pasta bowl. Luckily, Shourya catches my wrist in time, giving me a smile of surprise, guiding my hand gently to serve him. He keeps the eye contact, while as his half brother burrows his hands deeper around my thigh, making me sweat bullets down my spine. Stuttering in my movements, I put the bowl back down and settle in my chair, reaching for the hand that has nestled itself comfortably between my legs.

I try to put it off. Instead, the thick fingers slide into my own, interlacing our hands together. I glare at Rudra's side profile. He continues eating with his left hand as if he doesn't have the other close to my core.

"Are you okay, Taranya?" Yuvraaj's voice makes me look straight.

I fake a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. How's the food? You like it? Should I serve you anything else?" I ask, embarrassed that I forgot the most important person of my life in the room. I swear these Rajawat brothers are going to make me run for hills by how strong they're coming onto me. One is unwelcomed and the other gets me all putty in his hands.

Yuvraaj shakes his head. "I can serve myself if I need anything. You should eat something more than the soup. Try the pasta, it's good."

I wrench off my hand from Rudra's and put it back on the table.

"It's okay," I brush off the suggestion. "It's a plan of my new diet." I lie. And the way it comes so effortlessly to me makes me embarrassed. Given my expertise in lying to my brothers, I have no right to criticize Rudra for his fabricated persona.

Every limb of my body wavers as the hand around my thigh starts crawling down my leg, until it finds the hem of my dress, and then it disappears underneath. I release a long, shuddering breath, losing my ability to protest.

I've gone weeks without his presence around. No wonder it only took him a slow slide of his hand on my thigh to turn me into a thoughtless puppet. Upon receiving my unsaid consent, his movements get bolder, and I finally see him getting distracted, the nonchalant attitude slipping right off his face, his teeth clamping down his lower lip and he stops eating altogether. He casts me a look of surprise, as if he can't believe I'm allowing him and in response, my legs, on their own, fall slightly apart.

"Fuck," he swears.

He doesn't say it. Not even a whisper. But he enunciates it, and considering how I'm focused on his face to etch every minuscule detail of his features into my head, I read his lips fairly easily.

I nibble on my lower lip anxiously, every nerve in my body awake, the blood rushing to my head, making it light. I get sensitive to every ministrations he performs between my legs. The way his fingers dance across my flesh, inching closer and closer until they're an hairbreadth away from my pulsing heat. He stops there, teasing, lingering, and I've half mind to shove his hand away, because this is wrong, so wrong. I shouldn't even be thinking about this, let alone letting it happen. But we've come to this, and now there's no going back. I've gone far too long as a virgin to not get affected by the man I'm insanely attracted to having his thick fingers hovering inches away from my throbbing core.

My breathing turns ragged. And I sqaush down the urge to grab his wrist and push his hand flat to my centre. I don't want to. But fuck, I'm seconds away from dunking into the unthinkable, because I want the pressure of his fingers sinking into me just as desperately as I want air in my lungs.

Suddenly, the tip of his fingers slide over the waistband of my undies and I hold my breath. This is happening. This is really happening. At the dining table of all places. We had several opportunities where we could have let our lust take the charge. The farmhouse, in our bedroom, hell anywhere but at the dining table with my eldest brother and fake husband having their dinner inches away from us. But no, everytime we've to get intimate, it's out in the open, reining in our desires and the need to shout them out to each other just so we won't get caught.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

The question comes out of nowhere, and I freeze, grabbing Rudra's wrist so it wouldn't breach me while talking to his half brother. In turn, he retracts, but only to graze his knuckles over my clothed folds. I draw in a long, shaky breath.

"I do."

That's all it takes for me to come down from the aching high. I look at him in shock.

"Oh, who's she?" Shourya inquires curiously.

My eyes land on him too, his hand still nestled between my legs, and he smiles. "Niharika. She's our lawyer."

It's like a gut in the punch.

I expected him to take a fake name, or to not take a name at all, but to take her name while he has his hand between my legs. Oh, hell no.

I shove the hand away, fixing my dress and crossing my legs so he doesn't try invading my private space again. I feel his eyes burning through my head but don't pay him any mind. He took it too far taking her name in front of me, and crushed any chance he had at making things better between us by calling that woman his girlfriend.

"Why am I relieved?" Shourya chuckles. "I was afraid you'd fall for Taranya while pretending to be her husband. After all, I've just woken up, with no recollection of our past, and how we came together. I need another chance to fall in love with her." He puts his palm on my knuckles. This time I let him.

"Yeah, don't worry. I've no interest in your wife."

I glare at him. "Likewise."

He stares back cockily.

"Glad to know." Shourya says pleasantly.

I solely focus on my food for the rest of the dinner. I take Shourya to his new bedroom while Yuvraaj and Rudra stay back to clear the table.

"I feel guilty about taking advantage of Rudra like this." Shourya sits on end of the bed as I give him his medicines.

"You don't need to. He's doing everything because he wants to."

"His girlfriend has no problem with you acting as his wife?" He inquires further, wringing the veins connected to my heart because the organ suddenly starts beating weirdly, as if something's causing it pain. "Because I certainly feel uncomfortable with the thought. And so far, except for the ring on your finger, I've nothing else confirming that you're my wife. No memories, no feelings." He looks at me with such vulnerability, I feel another wave of shame wash over me. I've no business betraying this man like this, but I'm still doing it, hoping and praying it's for a greater good.

"It's okay. We are mature adults. If I can handle it, I'm sure she can too."

"You're so understanding." He reaches for my hand.

Hesitantly, I put mine in his and he pulls me between his thighs. I exhaust every cell of my body struggling to not book it at the speed of light. Everytime this man looks at me with eyes of affection, and if I haven't misread yet, sometimes even with momentary lust, I feel like crawling out of my own skin just so I can escape his presence.

He opens his mouth to say something, perhaps something heartfelt, or admittance of how he's happy to know I'm his wife, when I push two pills inside his mouth and step back, filling the emptiness in his hand with the glass of water. "You need to take your medicines." He sighs in defeat and swallows the pill, washing them down with a few sips of water.

I put the glass away and lean in to fix the bedsheets, grabbing a new comforter from the cupboard by the time he's lying on the bed, half asleep. I cover him with the comforter and turn off the lights, on my way to get out of the room when his voice stops me at the doorstep.

"I think I've a crush on you, Tara." He confesses, his tone sloppy. I look over my shoulder, a gut twisting in my stomach as guilt fills in at the sight of him sleeping peacefully, unaware everyone he's beginning to trust are ought to bertay him one day. I don't let the feeling sink in so far I'll be compelled to confront it and close the door behind me, heading back downstairs to see my brother alone in the living room.

"Where's Rudra?" I ask, my tone brusque, laced with anger.

"In the bathroom."

I descend the remaining stairs. "Are you waiting for him?"

He looks up from his phone to nod at me. Then he sees the look in my eyes and shakes his head.

"That's what I thought." I smile. "You should go home. Vivaan Bhai must be waiting."

"All of them actually," he gets up and comes over to drop a kiss on top of my head. "I've posted a guard outside the house. If Shourya tries anything indecent, drop the act and ask for help. Clear?"

I nod.

"I'll see you later. Good night." He squeezes my shoulder and walks up to the door. I tag along to see him out. He turns once out, shoving his arms through the sleeves of his long coat and looks at me. "Go easy on him. He was trying to make sure Shourya doesn't see him as a threat."

I snort. "He took the wrong name."

Yuvraaj shrugs. "That I concede with. I don't understand why he's keeping her around anymore. He told me her family isn't running for politics for two more years. They dropped the idea since their marriage was called off."

I feel bad that I've to string along with the lie Rudra had once fed me just so I don't blow his cover in front of my brother. "She's still their lawyer. And I think the Chairman still fancies her over me."

"Of course, he does." Yuvraaj grits out. "Don't ever try to impress him." He warns me.

My nose scrunches in disgust. "Fuck, no."

"Taranya, language." He admonishes.

"I'm twenty three now and married. I swear a lot when you're not around, you know that right?" I deadpan.

He shakes his head in disappointment. "It's because of the people you choose to hang out with."

"The only people I hang around the most are you guys." I emphasize.

"It's Agastya." He grunts. "Good night." Then he walks away briskly, leaving me laughing in his exit.

Closing the door, I walk back into the living room and locate the bathroom next to the room behind the main foyer. I don't wait to knock and receive a permission. I open the door and walk in, making Rudra jump while he is fixing his messy mob of raven hair.

Fuck, how badly I want to rake my fingers through those dark hair, pull his face towards me and kiss those sinfully gorgeous lips.

I blink.

The thought stuns me. I need another second to come back to reality. And when I do, I find myself glowing under his curious gaze. He watches me like I'm put on a display to perform acrobatics for him.

"For a Princess of a royal family, you sure lack the basic etiquettes, Esther." He leans against the bathroom vanity, amusement in his eyes.

"Shut up, Rajawat." I snap.

"So romantic," he sighs, a hand on his chest. "Do you usually speak with sugar in your words or am I special?"

I plaster a sweet smile on my face. "With the way you manage to get on my nerves by simply existing, I'm sure it's because you're annoying."

"And not because I was about to make you come with my fingers?"

I flush dark red. "You've to be delusional to pull that bullshit outta your head."

"Yeah?" He teases, backing me up against the bathroom door. "Is that why you sent your brother home? You don't want my fingers buried deep inside you, curling to hit the spot that'll make you see stars beneath those long lashes?"

Oh, fuck. He knows dirty talk.

"No." I push him on the chest to get him off me. Another second with him breathing on my skin and I might just end up doing what he said, begging him to take me right here in this cranked, crowded bathroom. "I'm here for what you said at the dining table! For a man who was apologising to me not an hour ago, you sure have the audacity to act so cocky and unfazed."

He shrugs. "Forgive me if you want me docile."

I chuck off the tempting offer. "What was the point calling that woman your girlfriend?"

"Are you jealous?"

I scoff. "Why would I be jealous?"

"For the same reason as I am." He stalks closer, placing his hands on either side of my head. "Doesn't feel great knowing another woman has any right on me, does it? Even if it's nothing but a lie."

I walk my head through his words unbothered, instead coming up with the most pathetic excuse of my own, "I wasn't jealous. I was angry. What if he asks to meet her? Then what? You should think before lying-"

Rudra laughs, pulling off me and shaking his head.

I stand tongue tied, flushed to my feet at the way he regards me like I'm so dumb.

"That's your real concern?" He tilts his head to the side. "That he'd ask to meet my girlfriend?"

"Of course," I still don't learn.

"Then I'll bring her to meet him." He speaks softly, naive innocence in his eyes, as if he isn't the wretched devil of my personal hell. "She's more than ready to be my girlfriend." He smiles. "I'm sure she'll jump at the first opportunity I lay down to make me hers."

My fingers curl tightly at his words.

"Is that enough to make him believe?" He leans in again, fists on the frame, caging me in his arms. "Need I go on? How about I hold her hand? Touch her cheek? Kiss her knuckles? Or maybe-"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Why? Are you jealous?" His brow snap together, furious, provocative. "Hate the thought of me with another woman? Isn't that it, Esther? You absolutely loathe the idea of someone else touching me, kissing me, owning me." He presses, breaching the safe distance between us, his lips hovering over mine fleetingly before he's pulling back to stand straight. "Admit it. Admit it that you're jealous. That you kissed me in the gym not to put on act but because you were jealous of Niharika. C'mon, say it. Say that you're jealous. Because I know you are. Just like I am. I know you hate the thought of me belonging to someone else just as I do when I see you with him. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you feel nothing towards me. Tell me you're not jealous. Tell me, Taranya. Tell me-"

Frustrated out of wits at his blabbering, I yank his face to me and press our lips together for a toe curling kiss. I pull away once I know he's quiet. Wide ebony eyes blink at me, speechless.

"I had no other way to shut you up. You talk too much." I stroke a thumb across his sharp jawline.

He breathes hard on my wet lips. "Is this another mistake?"

I shake my head. "No, I've missed you."

Without a warning, he scoops me up and slides me over the vanity slab, parting my legs to step closer. "Tell me you kissed me because you were jealous. Now and that day in the gym. Please, I need to know." He touches his forehead with mine.

I lock my hands around his neck, nodding softly with my eyes closed. "I'm jealous. I can't stand her, or any woman looking at you the way I'm allowed to." My hands slide low to cup his cheeks, tilting his face so he's looking up at me.

"Really?" There's unmistakable joy in his eyes. Makes my heart surge in my chest until its pounding against my ribcage.

"Really," I nod. "Now shut up and kiss me."

It's finally happening, y'all!

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