Chapter 23 Veera
Chapter 23 Veera
Text messages from nine months and two weeks ago:
DEEPAK: Vee, I just heard. Holy shit, I'm so sorry.
VEERA: Where were you? I called and texted you.
DEEPAK: I'm sorry, I got caught up. Fuck your father. Come work for Illyria. I'll make sure that you have a job.
VEERA: If my father is going to be positioned as a CFO, then I would eventually have to report to him. I don't think I can stomach
being fired twice.
DEEPAK: Let me do something, anything. You are one of the smartest advisers at Mathur Financial Group. Not only do I know you personally,
but I've seen all the financial and employee reports from the merger! How could he do this?
VEERA: Hey, where were you when I called?
DEEPAK: I was with Olivia. She's a member of the board.
VEERA: Oh?
Veera showered and took the time to blow out her hair after the aunties left her kitchen spotless. There wasn't a trace of
their presence left.
Even after she lectured them on the patriarchy and again on believing every WhatsApp meme some distant cousin texted them,
they'd made sure to help her with the lessons they promised her when they first showed up at her door.
Instead of brushing her aside or reprimanding her for what she lacked, they tried to cultivate her spirit and her knowledge.
In her eyes, there was a noticeable shift in the way they treated her now that she was married.
Maybe this was why so many women felt pressured into getting married. Because they were welcomed into a community that they
didn't have access to before. They were now part of the "married" group, which meant that everyone understood a different
language, a different way of life that was wholly separate from the life they lived as single women.
Veera had to wonder if her friends had that experience as well. Maybe that was why she felt so disconnected from Kareena and
Bobbi when they found Prem and Bunty.
She would miss this, she thought. If her relationship with Deepak ended, if they went their separate ways, then she would
miss the way she felt welcomed, the way she belonged with the married women in her life.
Veera tried to push thoughts of ending her relationship with Deepak out of her head as she entered her closet. She wanted to be with him, and she was ready to have him.
Now that she was alone again, counting down the time until he returned from the office, she felt the sexual tension in their
house like a fog. She opened the dresser drawer in the walk-in closet and tried to find something sexy in her underwear collection.
"Tonight calls for the best panties you own, babes," she said to herself. She pushed aside the delicate cotton she preferred
and settled on the pair of black lace panties he'd taken off her before their wedding reception. "Bingo."
The lace was so impractical, and if she were being honest with herself, uncomfortable butt floss. But she felt incredible
in them. Powerful. Immediate vixen.
Veera stripped out of her clothes, brushed her teeth and her hair, and added a sheer skin tint that gave her cheeks a hydrated,
healthy glow.
Her thumb brushed over Olivia's name on the tube. She'd purchased it because she felt guilty for how hurt she was feeling
from the marriage announcement.
But damn, it was also some pretty good skin tint.
After putting the tube away, she finished getting dressed for seduction in the matching bra, and a thin camisole and sleep
shorts.
Veera headed down to the main floor but stopped on Deepak's level. She turned toward his bedroom and decided her plan was
worth the breach in privacy. She pushed his doors open and strode inside the meticulously neat and tidy space. God, his obsessiveness
was adorable. His bed had hospital corners, and the pillows on his couch in the seating area were plumped and arranged at
an angle.
She walked straight into his dressing room and wondered if she should wear one of his T-shirts when her hand brushed something soft. With curiosity controlling her urges, Veera pulled out his Columbia graduate school sweatshirt from the back of the drawer.
It was so comfy looking that she pressed it against her chest and sighed. He had a few and she'd already stolen one. She wouldn't
mind a new sweatshirt for her collection.
When she slipped it over her head, the worn fabric enveloped her like a cloud, and she smelled the rich faint scent of musk
and evergreen that clung to Deepak's skin.
What would he think if he caught her wearing his sweatshirt? Would he... well, punish her for it? Veera's body tingled
at the thought.
They'd never flirted with those games before. They hadn't flirted at all until they were married. Then Deepak held her hand,
fascinated by her mehndi until the burgundy color faded leaving just the wrist tattoo behind. She usually forgot that it was
there, but Deepak touched it often.
Veera hoped that after tonight he'd touch more than just her wrists.
She wrapped her arms around her midsection, enjoying the soft feel of her new sweatshirt, as she walked back into Deepak's
bedroom. She didn't want to leave yet. She'd been so respectful of his space when she'd first moved in that she hadn't even
opened the drawers in the kitchen. Now she wanted to leave her imprint on his sheets. She wanted him to remember her the way
that she remembered him every time she crawled under her covers and touched herself.
Veera strode over to his mattress and untucked his hospital corners at the foot of the bed. Because she was aching for him
to the point where she felt a little daring, a little breathless, she pulled the comforter back and crawled onto the bed.
"Oh my, you've been holding out on me," she whispered.
The lights outside were beginning to dim, casting the room in shadows as she rolled onto her back. Did he think of her? Did he touch himself the way she touched her body, late at night alone in her room?
Veera pressed her thighs together as she shifted on the cool, silken soft sheets.
This was insanity and luxury all at the same time, she thought as she slipped her fingers under the waist of her shorts and
into her panties. What was she even thinking, touching herself on Deepak's bed?
Her blood pumped hot through her veins as she was consumed with sensation. She wanted to talk to him first, to ask him what
he meant when he said there was no going back. She wanted to understand what was happening between them.
Her fingers brushed over her dampness and she sighed, sinking farther into the pillows. This was Deepak's bed, Deepak's sweatshirt,
and she wanted so badly to come all over his sheets and leave him with a mess that would remind him of her.
She fingered her sensitive clit, and she slipped a hand under his sweatshirt, under her tank to brush against her nipple.
"Well, this is a nice surprise."