Not A Simple Engineer Boy!

Thirty Eight: Ignition Theory (Part 4)

Xavier couldn't help but adore the little woman in his arms. She looked beyond gorgeous, her flowing dark tresses were soft to the touch and her dark skin glowed flawlessly.

When she looked at him, he controlled himself from groaning. Her big black eyes sparkled, they reminded him of the stormy nights, so dark that he wanted to lose himself in them. When his eyes narrowed to those pouting lips, all he wanted was to take her to the corner of the hall and kiss the life out of her. And then do more.

Fuck!

His body shuddered as he felt himself growing hard. What was he thinking? How could he be attracted to her? She was too young and whatever lecherous thoughts he had in his mind were wrong. Absolutely fucking wrong.

But she looked like she belonged in his arms, her full lips waiting for his.

Stop the fuck!

He observed her shrinking away from him, trying to wrench herself from his hold, and his arms pulled her even closer. She was so close to him that he could smell her and it was refreshing. She smelled of pure sandalwood- no other notes, a very rare choice for a woman. It felt like home, the way her mother used to hug him and comfort him in her arms. It was a breeze of happy memories and love.

Her soft hands were on his arms and he flexed his hand on her waist, restraining himself to avoid pulling her any closer or she would know how attracted he was to her from the growing evidence in his jeans.

When she squirmed, he groaned low, "I told you, I want to win."

Did he want to win? Or did he just want to keep her in his arms? He didn't know.

"I...I...", she breathed.

In his hazy vision- filled with desire- he observed that her face was laced with worry. He blinked rapidly to let go of whatever lust his mind was throbbing on.

Rage and annoyance, those emotions looked cute on her but worry, it wasn't something he would like to see again, that looked awful on her beautiful face. He wanted to wipe it off immediately.

"What, sweetheart?"

He loved calling her sweetheart, the feisty sweetheart. It suited her well as she had a heart to stand by her friends, the people she probably loved.

"I want to leave, sir.", her voice was soft, "Please."

It came like an arrow straight to his heart, piercing sharp and deep.

He knew that he had gone overboard with his teasing.

But when he had said the truth to her that she looked ravishing she had scowled at him. She was resisting him. She didn't want to be with him, because she didn't like him. She hated him.

Yes, that's what it was. And he was forcing her to stay.

He was nothing but a rusty man for a flower like her. She probably knew his age- and maybe about his divorce- and reckoned that he was acting like an old lewd leech, it was inappropriate yet he kept acting on his whim for so long that he forgot his limits.

She had hated him from the start and he had been nothing but hateful to her.

He felt like a fool and dropped his hands, "Sorry, Ms. Krithika.", he stared at her face, looking for any reaction.

As if released from a cage, she fled back, far away from him.

It hurt him immensely. He had never wanted to harm anyone in his life. He had endured all the pain which he suffered from his father for the happiness of his grandfather. Even when his heart had broken into pieces, he had happily signed for the divorce that his ex-wife had requested from him.

Yet this woman in front of him was probably hurt by his impudent advances, his unknown likeliness was nothing but a bitter poison for her.

"Ha!", Satya's laugh snapped him back and he turned to face her, "I told you that you would lose."

Krithika stared in between Satya and him, a confused look. He waited for a response, anything at all, but she stepped back and blended with the crowd.

He wanted to leave the damned place. It was hurting him as he understood how twisted his mind had been, how low he had stooped. He wanted to scream but ignored his urge to do so in the middle of the hall, in front of everyone, and stormed out.

A great start to the new year, fuck that shit!

--

A/N

"Velicha Poove" is a constant drug, I can listen to it any time of the day and still be happy about how two non-Tamilian singers sang a beautiful song.

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