Angel in the Courtyard [Book 2]

Chapter 87 - Khaleel

I pushed open the door to Arisa's bedroom and stepped inside. It was surprisingly spacious with tons of natural light. Her trophy shelf and self defence certificates caught my attention first. I moved to read one of the award plaques. I had no idea my girlfriend was on the debate team in middle school. She also played badminton and received recognition for most valued player in track and field.

"Damn, Hoffman," I smiled. "You're kind of an overachiever aren't you?"

Arisa bit her lip awkwardly. She was eyeing the room cautiously, scanning to make sure there wasn't anything out of place—or maybe she was trying to hide her stack of porn? Wait. Did girls own porn? I couldn't assume either way. The room was clean enough. I wished she would stop freaking out.

"Ohhhh, who the hell is this cutie?" I beamed, noticing her vanity. There were a couple of photos from her childhood clipped to the edge of the mirror. I picked one of Arisa and her parents at Disneyland. If I had to guess, she was around five or six years old in the photo.

"Stop," my girlfriend grumbled, snatching it out of my hand. Her face was so red, it was adorable. "You can look but don't touch."

I couldn't help but tease her. I moved up behind Arisa just as she slipped the photo back in place. "That will be hard to do, babe," I said, cornering her.

"You better keep it in your pants."

"How about I keep it in yours?" I suggested, hugging her from behind. Her sweet scent aroused me and gave me butterflies all at the same time. Blood rushed to my junk and I cursed my luck for having such a cute girlfriend. Arisa turned her head back just in time to receive a sweet kiss. I gave into temptation and slowly climbed my hand up her uniform blouse.

Arisa gasped in reaction to my cold touch against her warm skin.

"Mind warming me up?" I asked, creeping towards her chest. I got my hand under her bra and cupped her soft flesh. I felt her whole body tense up, but after a few more sensual kisses, she relaxed, and leaned her head into it.

"Khaleel," she breathed.

I gently moved her golden locks out of the way and bit her ear. "You want me to stop?" I asked, pressing down.

Arisa winced but didn't pull away.

"Just say the word, Hoffman," I said, fondling her with one hand while the other searched for the zipper to her skirt. I was just about to unhook the metal clip when my fucking phone rang.

Arisa snapped out of it and tried to wiggle out of my hold, but I kept her in place...quite easily in fact. "Okay," she hissed. "You have to stop now—"

My hold on her breast tightened. Arisa winced again and tried to pull my hand out from under her shirt. I took out my phone and answered it. "Hello?"

"Wherever you are, I hope it's not with Arisa Hoffman." It was Kumar. What the hell was he doing calling me right now? Did he think I was going to feel bad about bailing on dinner? He should know better than to guilt trip me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, releasing Arisa. I took her wrist and moved towards the mattress. I took a seat by the edge and saved her a spot between my legs. Arisa gave in pretty easily. I guess she was just happy I wasn't groping her anymore. I grinned at the thought of teasing her again.

"Are you...with her?" Kumar inquired.

I quickly reclaimed Arisa's breast. She whipped her head back to glare daggers. "That depends on who's asking," I said, sticking my tongue out at her.

The doorbell rang throughout the entire house. Arisa pulled my hand away and flicked my forehead. It was my turn to wince. I laughed a little as she got up to see who was paying her a visit.

"Your Papa came to have dinner with Rida and the girls today," Kumar said. "He was angry that you didn't show up. I'm sorry. I know you didn't want him to know how serious your relationship with Arisa was, especially after what happened at the wedding, but I couldn't keep her name out of the conversation—"

I jumped off the bed as my mind filled in the blank. "Fuck," I cursed, hanging up on Kumar.

I bolted out of the bedroom and dashed down the stairs, only to find my worst fear coming to true. There was Papa Abdul, dressed to the nines, and sternly leering over my precious girlfriend.