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“Vedama?” his mother called out. “Are you okay?”
Veda looked up into Agastya’s laughing eyes, panic setting in. Oh shit. She couldn’t get caught in a locked bathroom with him, even if he was her fiancée.
“Vedama??” More banging.
“Yes,” she squeaked. “I’m okay.”
Agastya’s hand came up to cup her cheek, the thumb slowly stroking her cheekbone. Her breath caught in her chest, a hiccup of a sound.
“Come out fast.” His mother sounded distracted. “We are waiting. The date has been fixed and we’ll announce it once you both are here. Have to find that vedhava also.”
That vedhava aka donkey was right here, with Veda. She heard her future mother-in-law stomp away from the door even as Agastya gently pushed her up against it. The entire moment took on a dreamlike feel as he lowered his head, his mouth taking hers in a soft, tender kiss that had everything inside her melting to mush. She clenched her thighs together as need arrowed through her, a desperate yearning that she knew only this man would fill.
She kissed him back, pouring her heart and its bottled-up feelings into the kiss, his hand on her waist stroking the exposed skin there and driving her mad.
Finally, what felt like an eternity later, Agastya raised his head, his breath sawing out of him in short, hoarse bursts. He dropped his forehead to hers, pressing tight, his eyes fluttering shut as he slowly brought his breath under control.
“We should get out there before your mother comes back,” Veda whispered, even as her hands clenched in the fabric of his kurta pulling him closer.
“We should,” he agreed, not moving an inch.
“We will be the scandal of the year if we’re caught in here.”
“Of the decade,” he growled, pressing his lower half into hers.
She moaned, a soft breathy sound as he ground himself into her, the yards of material in her saree making it impossibly harder to feel the full depth of what she wanted to.
“Fuck,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her lips.
“Yes,” she mumbled. “Fuck.”
With a hoarse groan, he ripped himself away from her, turning towards the wall and shoving his hands through his hair, gripping and pulling the strands tight.
Veda did her best to adjust her saree but there was only so much she could do with the crumpled fabric. She could probably pass it of as having been messed up when she gathered it to pee, she thought frantically. Or maybe she would just shout ‘pee’ loudly in the crowded hall. That would certainly take the focus off her saree.
“I’ll leave first,” he said now, patting at his own crumpled pancha dhoti and kurta. His angavasthram was tossed on the floor. He picked it up and whacked it hard on his thigh before slapping it on to his shoulder. “You follow in a bit.”
She nodded dumbly still trying to find her way back from the lust filled fog where her brain now lived.
Agastya opened the door and glanced outside, checking for people.
“It’s clear,” he told her before opening the door wider and stepping through.
She whacked her own saree pleats wondering if she would see the same magic on them as he’d just performed on his angavasthram. No luck, she thought glumly.
“Veda?” he said quietly from near the door, his hand on the doorjamb.
She turned towards him, her heart racing again.
“Now, I’m okay,” he told her, before dipping his head in a nod and disappearing into the corridor.
A broad smile split Veda’s face as the door shut behind him. Fuck the saree. They could be the scandal of the century and it would be worth it. He was worth everything.
Seventeen
AGASTYA
It was his wedding day. It had been three weeks since the last time he’d met Veda. The only contact he’d had with Veda in three weeks were a few messages and one measly phone call. One!
