Lethal Temptation One-shot

Huzaifa

I felt like someone was brushing my hair with their fingers. The sweet scent of lavender hit me as my senses started awakening.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," a melodious female voice hit my ears.

I tried to push the haze away from my mind and nudged my eyes open. Wardah was leaning onto me, her black hair cascading down her back and a shy smile on her face.

"Eid Mubarak," she greeted biting her lip.

I stared at her beautiful face, trying to make sure, she was real and not an illusion.

"What?" Wardah furrowed her brows.

I lifted my hand and caressed her cheeks with my knuckles, trying to make sure that I was not dreaming. The warmth of her silky skin seeped through my body making me smile.

She was real.

"Why are you staring at me like this?" She asked in an annoyed tone, puzzled at my constant staring.

"To make sure, this isn't a dream," I replied pulling her hand into mine, with which she was brushing my hair.

"Of course, it's a dream. Our dream," she insisted in a determined voice, "It's our dream come true, Huzaifa."

"It is," I agreed and then slipped my hand in her hair and pulled her in for a kiss.

Wardah shoved me away scrunching her nose, "You need to get ready."

Here went the romance down the drain. Give it to Wardah Zaman, sorry, Wardah Huzaifa Ibrahim, to spoil the moment. I still needed to get used to the fact that she wasn't Wardah Zaman anymore.

"I don't remember you complaining a couple of hours ago," I teased.

Wardah rolled her eyes, "You could have dropped the business at least for a night. I only got a couple of hours of sleep."

"You might be forgetting Chérie, but I was a good practicing Muslim throughout Ramadan," I reminded her.

"Wow, you need to be applauded with 21 cannons for this achievement," Wardah taunted.

"I am a very humble man and will be content with a kiss," I wanted that kiss and Wardah was hell-bent on denying me.

"Humble, you?" Wardah scoffed, "the sun must have started rising from the west."

Smartass.

"Come on, just a kiss," I insisted.

"Nope," she crossed her arm on her chest, pushing up her swells and making my eyes linger on them.

"Eyes up here buddy," Wardah snapped her fingers in front of my eyes and I looked up into her eyes with a wolf smile and when I found her glaring at me, my smile fell.

"You are such a killjoy, Chérie. Why wake me up like this, if you didn't want me to kiss you," I huffed, then sat up.

"With you, it doesn't take much time for a kiss to escalate. Before I know it, I will find myself on my back with you on top of me," she narrowed her eyes at me.

"That's my favorite position," I exclaimed with excitement, while Wardah watched me with eyes full of fake resentment, "besides, you too seemed to enjoy it a lot," I plopped my cheek with my tongue.

"If you make it on time for the prayer, I will reward you with more than a kiss," Wardah coaxed, biting her lip.

I arched my brow and Wardah smiled with her black orbs glinting with mischief. She was wearing a white Anarkali suit with silver floral embroidery on it. Her hennaed hands rested on her lap, the red of the henna contrasting beautifully with her fair complexion.

"You are stunning," I couldn't help complimenting her.

"Enough of your flattery, honorable Minister," she teased, "you will miss the Eid prayer."

I groaned in annoyance at the word honorable Minister. Wardah needed to get rid of the habit of addressing me with that atrocity.

"Is it time already?" I stretched my arms, yawning.

"Yahya is waiting for you downstairs," Wardah turned away, hiding her smile.

"Yahya needs to stop being a fucking timetable," I growled, mad at my brother's annoying punctuality.

Wardah's rhythmic laughter filled the silence of our bedroom and I watched her mesmerized. Wardah was the most beautiful thing in this fucking world. And I was one lucky bastard to have her in my life.

"I am sure, Yahya will appreciate your advice," her voice was still filled with laughter and her inner joy.

Fuck.

How can someone hold your heart in their palm and would have no idea about it? If she kept looking so fucking beautiful, while she laughed. I will never make it to the mosque on time for the prayer. Then Yahya will have a reason to hound me for the rest of the year.

"Won't you give me a gift on Eid?"

Wardah cocked her eyebrow, "What was that two hours of rigorous fucking you made me go through early this morning?"

"That was a farewell gift for Ramadan," I teased.

She huffed and then tried to stand up but I grabbed her arm and pulled her to me. She collided with my chest and her hair whipped my face, making her lavender scent arouse my darkest desires.

"Huzaifa," Wardah pouted in anger.

"Hmm, Chérie?"I whispered into her ear, kissing my way down her slender neck.

"You are getting late," her voice was filled with less anger than arousal.

"This is our first Eid together, and I haven't even wished you properly," I sucked the sensitive spot on her neck and she moaned.

My cell started ringing, distracting us both. Wardah shoved me away while I watched the blush that spread on her face and neck.

I picked up my cell and glanced at the screen. Seeing Yahya's name flashing on the screen, I cursed him internally for being a cockblocker.

"I will check the arrangement for breakfast," Wardah stood up and I sighed in disappointment.

Guess I was not getting lucky this morning. Wardah left the room and I slipped out of bed. Her lavender scent still lingered in the air, making my mind wander in all the wrong places.

My gaze fell over her scattered bangles on the dresser as I made my way to the bathroom. I was still not accustomed to her things in my bedroom. They felt so foreign lying on the top of the dresser. I stretched my arm and picked a bangle. Then watched it in amazement.

Wardah loved bangles. I had never seen her without them. Even if she wore something western, she would pair her outfit with some funky bangles or Kada. These gold ones were her favorite, which she wore daily. She had told me it was a gift from her Bakhtiyar Baba when she topped the board exams in her tenth grade.

I placed the bangle back on the dresser and then strolled to the bathroom, dropping my clothes on the floor on the way to the shower stall. Wardah was going to throw a fit at the mess I created. I smiled internally thinking about her reaction.

Serves her well for denying me the kiss.

When I came downstairs after showering and changing into a black Pathani suit, Yahya was pacing in the living room, restlessly. While Junaid was settled on the couch texting Sehar for sure, on his cell.

"You are late," Yahya seethed, glaring at me.

I ignored him and headed to the dining table, which was loaded with multiple dishes filled with food. Delicious aromas wafted to my nose, making my stomach growl with hunger. Wardah was standing leaning against a chair with a plate set for me on the table.

"Huzi, if we don't leave now, we will miss the prayer," Yahya growled, at my back.

I heard Junaid's suppressed laughter, while Wardah was trying hard not to laugh. I winked at her and turned towards Yahya.

"Are you even human?" I cocked my brow at him, "how couldn't you feel hungry?"

Yahya rewarded me with one of his cold glares. His green eyes bored into my hazel ones, "Junaid and I already finished breakfast. Not everyone is as reckless as you."

"Watch your tone, little brother," I took a threatening step toward Yahya.

I couldn't let Yahya disrespect me in front of Wardah, even if he was my brother. I had been out most of the night on syndicate business. When I returned it was almost dawn and couldn't spend our first eid without fucking Wardah. That left me with only two hours to sleep.

"You guys can't be serious, it's Eid today," Junaid groaned jumping to his feet.

While Wardah placed her hand over my chest, stepping beside me. Her touch doused my anger like water doused fire. I took a deep breath trying to calm myself.

Maybe I overreacted.

Sex deprivation for sure.

Wardah would surely disagree or might even smack me for being insatiable. But I couldn't help when it came to her. More was always less, where she was concerned.

Fuck.

Now, I was even reversing the phrases. Maybe I need to see a shrink for my Wardah mania.

"Look, I didn't mean it. But sometimes your laid-back attitude gets on my nerves, Huzi," Yahya offered what came closest to an apology in his dictionary and I dropped it.

He was my brother and had been with me through every thick and thin. I trusted him with my life and was well aware of his compulsive nature. His need to be in control at all times.

Wardah walked to my front holding a bowl in her hand and halted right in front of me. I stared at her puzzled but smiled when she lifted the spoon of the sheerqorma to my mouth. I parted my lips and Wardah slipped the spoon inside.

The flavors of saffron and cardamom exploded on my tongue along with the creamy taste of milk.

It was heavenly delicious.

"Did you prepare it?" I couldn't help asking Wardah.

She smiled nodding, "I asked, Mishy, for the recipe."

She lifted her hand and wiped a drop from beside my mouth. Taking advantage of her distraction I kissed her hand. Wardah fake glared at me while I smirked at her playfully.

She rolled her eyes and fed me another spoon, while Junaid and Yahya passed each other amused glances behind her back. Who would have thought a mere woman would tame the Diablo?

Wardah kept feeding me and the rich taste of the sheerqorma started to numb my senses. I felt a haze enveloping my mind and the scene in front of my eyes started getting blurry.

I blinked my eyes to clear my vision but it didn't help instead everything started to flood into darkness. By the time I figured out what was happening a screeching sound tore through my senses and I woke up with a jerk.

Fucking hell.

It was a dream.

A beautiful dream, but a fucking dream, nonetheless. Which had zero chances of coming true. Wardah Zaman would never become a part of my family.

I cursed and then looked around to search for the screeching sound and found the atrocious alarm clock that belonged to our paternal grandmother on my nightstand.

Fucking Yahya.

It could be only his idea to use this clock to wake me up. The dude needs to get his shit together. He could have set an alarm on my cell. The smartass that he was, I knew for sure that he would have figured out my password by now which was Mom's birthday.

Picking my cell from the nightstand, I unlocked it and then checked my Twitter Inbox. There wasn't any new text from Wardah. The last conversation we had was about her gold bangle which I dreamt about.

She had sent me her henna pic yesterday after I pestered her for hours. She had flown to Mumbai a few days ago and I had not even gotten the chance to see her before she left, because of my busy schedule during Ramadan. I had managed to send her a custom-made gift hamper for Eid and she had sent me a text thanking me.

Wardah had tagged me in a tweet a few weeks ago, containing a video of a corrupt official in my Ministry. I had tweeted back with a thank you and that the issue had been taken care of.

She had them sent me a direct message appreciating my quick action. We had been texting back and forth since that day. We had never called each other, but at least exchanged a text daily.

Most of the time our text consisted of quotes or a riddle, instead of conversations. Sometimes Wardah would surprise me with a game of fuck, marry, kill. The choices she came up with were ridiculous and I enjoyed every single one of those games.

Wishing Wardah Happy Eid, I logged out of Twitter and then tossed my cell on the bed. She would reply to me, once she got the time. Her replies most of the time were delayed, but she would always reply.

I shut myself in the bathroom infuriated at the emptiness of my room and the neatly arranged things on the dresser. Instead of Lavender, the scent of cinnamon and lime filled the room.

Why did I dream of something like this? What was fucking wrong with me? And why the hell was the empty room bothering me? Wardah will never marry me, her brothers will never allow it. Then why was a part of me craving for this dream to come true?

I wanted Wardah. I had always wanted her, since the day she stepped into that fucking room in that red saree with a smile on her face and a challenge in her eyes and my gaze fell on her.

Now, only a fucking dream was making me want something that I had never even imagined. I wanted to own her and break her, never wanting to make her a part of my family. This fucking dream was messing up with my mind. It was making me want to live that dream in real.

I headed downstairs after showering and getting dressed for the prayer. I avoided looking at the empty dining table on my way to the kitchen. Junaid and Yahya were in the kitchen, sipping coffee.

"Salam Alaykum," I greeted them and strolled to the kitchen counter with the coffee machine, while they both murmured their replies.

"Why the fuck we don't hire a cook and helpers?" I hissed, earning surprised glances from Junaid and Yahya.

"Because you value your privacy," Yahya taunted.

I avoided hiring any maids or cooks in Nona and Izma's absence. We barely stayed home and I didn't want anyone snooping around the house.

The cleaning crew came twice a week and that too was under the supervision of anyone of us. It was too risky to allow anyone inside the mansion without anyone to supervise them.

I turned on the coffee machine and made myself a latte with a double shot of coffee. I spit the coffee into the sink after a single sip.

"How the fuck do you drink this shit?" I tossed the mug into the sink along with the coffee.

The coffee tasted like dirt at the reminder of the rich taste of Sheerqorma.

"What got your panties in a bunch?" Junaid inquired with a smile while Yahya kept watching me silently.

"I think the coffee has expired," I ignored Junaid's question.

"The coffee is fine," Yahya retorted calmly, "I think it's your mind that is not in place. Didn't get your fill of Wardah Zaman, for the week?" He taunted.

I grabbed him by his collar, "Keep Wardah out of this." I roared.

Yahya placed his hands above mine and pulled my hand away with absolute calm. His green eyes assessed my face thoroughly.

"Can't you see, how she is messing up your mind?" Yahya stated in his calm tone.

"No one is messing my mind," I snapped.

"It's Eid, will you both drop it least for today," Junaid eyed us, wearily.

Yahya raised his hand in surrender and I took a step back giving him a curt nod. Wardah might not have messed my mind but that fucking dream sure did. Now all I could feel was the emptiness in our home.

It was the morning of Eid and nothing but silence ruled our house. Whereas every other household must be bustling with joy and happiness and the voices of the inhabitants.

If Nona and Izma would have been here, it would have been different. They made this brick and concrete block feel like a home. Now in their absence, all that was left was silence.

"We are getting late, let's leave for the mosque," I raked my still damp hair with my fingers, then turned and strode out of the kitchen.

I wanted to be anywhere but this house at the moment. Even if Wardah had never stepped into our mansion, all I could see was her because of that fucking dream.

Junaid and Yahya returned home after the prayer and I took my Harley out of the garage. It had been months since I last rode it. Bikes were my first and last love. I didn't even remember how many bikes I owned. But Harley was my favorite of all apart from the Ducati.

Changing into a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt beneath my leather jacket. I wore the helmet and climbed onto my bike. Turning it on, I slid the visor down and took off. I always felt a strange kind of freedom on a bike. It was my stress-buster when our father was alive.

I used to ride for hours to escape his toxicity. Our father was the worst human the world had seen. Even calling him a human would be an insult to mankind. A shudder passed through my body at his memory. Those were the darkest times of our lives.

After reaching my favorite spot, I parked my bike and then leaned and stood against it. I pulled my cell out and checked for a reply from Wardah, but it showed only one tic.

Where could she be?

Surely busy with the countless people around her. Vipers were celebrating their first Eid after Suleiman and Mishal united and surely they would be doing it on a grand scale.

Suleiman was one lucky son of a bitch. His father was the best to ever walk on Earth if Wardah's word was to be taken about him. She admired him, to the extent of worshipping him. His mother though paralyzed was alive and at his side. He had Abdullah, Salahuddin, and Osman who wouldn't hesitate to die for him. Then there was Mishal, the love of his life.

He had everything that I had ever desired. All I had was Nona, Izma, Yahya, and Junaid. Though I didn't doubt their affection for me, it still didn't feel enough. Something was missing in my life. I could feel the hollow inside me, but I had no idea how to fill it.

Legion was getting stronger with each passing day. I had more money than I would ever need in a hundred lifetimes. I had connections and influence, then why didn't it feel enough?

Why had this dream intensified the yearning inside me? I wanted to destroy the Vipers through Wardah and had been working on it for years. Now, that my goal seemed to be within reach, why does it feel insufficient?

Marrying Wardah was never my intention. I had made it clear to Izma years ago. All I wanted was to own her body and soul and then break her. But this fucking dream had messed my mind. Now, I wanted the taste of the forbidden fruit.

I wanted to feel how it would be to have Wardah in my life as my wife. And how it would break her brothers to see her married to me. That would be one hell of revenge. To flaunt Wardah as my wife in their faces.

Standing on that cliff and looking down at the city that was my kingdom. I decided to have Wardah Zaman in my arms the next Eid as my wife. And no one was going to stop me from achieving my goal, not even Wardah herself.