A Beauty So Cursed by Beena Khan

Chapter 11

Miran was home today.

I felt so silly sometimes.

This wasn’t my home.

I was like a girl infatuated with her crush. He was making us dinner. I wish I could help, but I might s a finger. I sat at the kitchen table, and my ears perked up hearing the noises of pot stirring.

He wasn’t speaking to me at all, nor had he greeted me when he returned for the night. I’d spoken to him in the morning when I had identified that man, but once he returned me to the cabin, he left for work. I hated it when he was too quiet, and the silence in the air bothered me.

Had something changed his mood?

“What are you cooking?” I asked after a beat.

I would be so disappointed if he hadn’t answered but thankfully, he did.

“Falafel. They’re served in gyro stands around New York. And Et sote.”

My cheeks warmed.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’ve never been to a gyro stand.”

“Oh.” After a pause, he explained, “They are street food vendors catered usually by Arab men that serve Middle-Eastern food at a cheap price. Maybe I’ll bring one home for you one day.”

I noticed he hadn’t said he would take me himself.

I guess it was too dangerous.

“And falafel are fried spiced balls or patties of ground chickpeas or fava beans. I like to make a mixture of both.”

A clank of noise jostled me awake, and the smell was directly under my nose. The steam hit my face, heating it. I tried to ignore Miran’s smell that was too close not to like. I tried to focus on the real food instead of wanting to nibble on him. The herb and spice taste were enriching.

“It’s hot. Falafel on the right with et sote.Et sote is Turkish beef. The sauce is on the left. I like Tahini sauce with it,” he murmured.

I hid a smile that he was learning proper word appropriations.

A chair creaked across from mine as he slid into it.

“Where’s the spoon?” I asked.

His deep laughter rumbled and echoed through the room.

After a moment, he replied, “Use your hands. There is pita bread for the beef on your right.”

Another plate clanked against the table.

I reached out a hand with hesitant movements, dipped the falafel ball into the savory sauce before taking a slow bite of it, and almost groaned. It was delicious, and he was an excellent cook. The falafel itself didn’t taste strong of the chickpeas and fava beans. I liked the taste. I ate the beef next. It was hot and crunchy.

“Try this when you’re done,” he said.

The sound of a plate glided across the table toward me.

“Baklava.”

I must have looked confused because he added, “It’s Arab sweets. Dessert to your right.”

I didn’t point out that it was too soon to be eating dessert when it was only evening. Maybe he didn’t follow American norms. There was so much I didn’t know about him.

“How did you learn how to cook?” I began.

“I’ve lived alone most of my life.”

“What’s it made of?” I asked, picking up the sticky, small Baklava piece.

“It’s better to eat in one or two bites. It’s hot,” he added. I did as he suggested, and he continued talking, “It’s typically made of sugar syrup, cinnamon, walnuts, butter, and dough.”

The taste was everything, and the citrus flavor added a touch to the drizzle. Walnuts melted into my mouth.

“You don’t know how to cook, right?”

I paused. I forced myself to swallow before replying, “No.”

“So, your future husband is going to cook for you for the rest of his life?” he asked, mid-chew.

It was a simple, casual question, but I still tried to hear other undertones behind it.

I shrugged. “Maybe, I might as well marry a cook. Don’t you think?”

Miran stopped chewing, and I wanted to grin.

I longed to see his expressions, to see his reactions. I tried to hide my feelings from my face, so hopefully, he couldn’t see. When I finished eating, my fingers were extremely greasy. It reminded me of the feelings I would get from sticky pancakes.

He cleared his throat, and my eyes went to the chair sliding.

Had my flirting been too obvious?

Sounds of the kitchen sink running and steel utensils clashing against each other filled my ears. I fiddled with my hands as I sat there quietly.

When the tap water was off, he asked, “You want to go outside and roam the woods?”

I hadn’t been outside in two days.

“I’m allowed?”

He sighed. “For the record, I didn’t kidnap you, regardless of what people think.” I hid a giggle at being a stolen bride. “You can roam outside as long as I’m around you or one of the men.”

My thoughts turned giddy. I leaned down and patted Bailey’s head who sat underneath me. When I rose, she rubbed her snout against my leg.

“Wash your hands and take Bailey’s chain,” Miran’s voice came out from my right and spooked me.

I jumped up at his dominance. His footsteps moved closer, and I bowed my head, closing my eyes. He really needed to step away from me. I couldn’t control my emotions around him. His fingers lifted my hand, wrapping Bailey’s chain around my wrist. I counted the steps to the sink and washed my hands.

We began walking, and the door creaked open as we stepped outside. Bailey walked ahead of me. A fresh warm spring breeze hit me, and I inhaled the open air a few times. I didn’t go outside as much, so it was refreshing. Being in the woods was a distinct feeling. Not that I had any other experience for comparison, but it was like breathing for the first time here.

Fresh, untainted, blissful air.

Smells of damp rain, flowers, and wet tree trunks wavered under my nose. The aroma of sandalwood and cedar hung in the air.

Cedar. That made me pause.

Now, I know where Miran gets his smell. He must be around his cabin often or that was his natural smell too. As if he heard me thinking, he spoke, “I try to come here a couple of times during the week. It’s peaceful and no one can find me.”

A smile lifted my upper lip. “Is this your hideout from the rest of the world?”

“Maybe,” he teased. “And now it’s yours too.”

My heart skipped a beat.

He had shared his private home with me.

“There are three steps down,” he said in front of me.

I nodded as I stepped down the stairs.

“You are… quiet today,” I breathed. “Is everything okay?”

After a moment, he replied, “I’m fine.” Was he lying? Before I could ask him any follow up questions, he asked, “What does Lada mean?”

I wasn’t pleased that he was changing the subject.

I forced a smile, and I hoped it reached my eyes.

“The Goddess of love, marriage, and… beauty.”

A sour feeling replaced my disappointed one, and my eyes fell on the ground. With each step, my flats crunched against the soft dirt and small rocks below me.

“Is that why Alexei calls you ‘Goddess’?” he teased. Without waiting for a reply, he added, “I prefer Kiska.”

My face fell, and my heart burned that he didn’t think my name suited me at all. He was calling me ugly.

He exhaled slowly.

“I meant you remind me of a small cat.”

“It’s okay to say that I’m not attractive. I won’t feel bad.”

That was a big lie.

I would be crushed, and my heart would shatter at the blunt truth.

Miran was quiet for a few seconds. We continued walking in silence, and I lost the appeal in the conversation. I was just about to say that we should return instead, but he spoke up.

“I don’t believe that you’re ugly.”

My heartbeat raced rapidly. My lips parted, hungry for more of his thoughts. Tingling filled my body, and I licked my dry lips. I didn’t believe he was going to give me any more information than that. He was so difficult to read sometimes.

The wind whooshed around us, and a gust of air blew my hair back. The right side of my face was exposed. Holding in a frustrated sigh, I reached up and covered it with strands again. It was getting windier, and in a matter of seconds, my hair flew back again. I silently sighed, feeling helpless. Was he looking at my scars? My throat ran dry, and I hoped he wasn’t.

After a moment, I looked for a distraction and asked, “What does Miran mean?”

“It’s Turkish for Prince.”

A laugh left my lips, and he paused in his stride.

“Well, you know,” I said, dropping my voice and whispering, wide-eyed, “Bratva heir.” Hysterical giggles erupted from my mouth. I covered my lips with my other free hand.

He scoffed, “I am not initiated.”

“Neither am I, but it doesn’t change the fact of who I am.”

His footsteps moved again, and we walked in silence. I wanted to keep talking. A question was burning on the tip of my tongue. One that I’d wanted to ask him ever since I’d heard of him.

“Why aren’t you the Pakhan?” I whispered in case people were lingering around. The cops he had provided me with for protection always left when he returned. I doubted anyone else could hear us, but still, I wanted to be careful after he warned me the first time.

His footsteps moved faster, and the crunching of leaves and rocks grew nosier. I rushed faster to keep up with him.

Was he running away from me?

“You don’t want to rule?” I couldn’t help but ask.

His pace quickened, and I had to catch my breath.

“I can’t walk that fast,” I protested. “I might slip on a rock and fall to my death. We are in the woods after all.”

Immediately, his footsteps slowed down.

“I do rule,” he replied after a moment. I frowned, not understanding his meaning. “The DEA is my territory. That’s my life.”

It wasn’t a clear-cut answer, and I wanted him to clarify.

“My parents were Bratva, and they suffered because of it.”

I swallowed hard. I’d heard of all kinds of rumors floating around about his mother who was once captive to a rival Italian Family.

He continued, “If I wanted, I could have taken the seat as Pakhan years ago and declared war on the Vitalli Family… but that kind of rivalry would have passed down generations as it did in the past. I followed the system, and I got what I wanted in a different way. There are always two paths.”

I smiled. “I always thought you were one of the good ones.”

Miran chuckled as if I cracked a joke. I didn’t join in on the laughter though.

“No, Kiska,” he replied once he’d stopped laughing.

His voice dropped low and husky, sending bolts of electricity down my spine with the way he said the nickname. Was the weather getting hotter or was that my skin heating up? It must be me. It was just windy moments ago.

“I am not. You have no idea what I do.”

You do shady behavior too.

Pakhan’s voice echoed in my mind.

I wanted to ask him about it, but I didn’t think Miran would reply. I pressed my lips together, but the sound of water swishing alerted me.

“There’s a lake around here,” Miran said, confirming my suspicions.

I grinned. “Where is it?”

“A few feet ahead,” he replied, and his footsteps moved. As we moved closer to the lake, the soothing sounds of the water were calming. It was windier though.

“We’re here.”

An idea went off in my head. “Is it safe to swim?”

Miran was quiet before he replied, “You know how to swim?”

I nodded eagerly. “Yes, I’ve taken swimming lessons when I was young.”

“It’s safe,” he replied.

I dropped Bailey’s chain before reaching down to pull the hem of the dress over my head. He sucked in a sharp breath and my body became hotter by the second.

“Come swim with me?” I asked with hesitation, still smiling.

I unclipped the bow from the back of my hair and dropped it along with my clothes.

“I thought you struggle to undress?”

I froze at his questioning voice, and my eyes darted up, bewildered, realizing I was caught. Oops.

I rubbed my lips together thinking of another excuse, but he beat me to it, “Maybe you’re just excited about the water? You’re not thinking straight.”

His voice sounded amused. I tried not to think much of it, and I only confirmed with, “Y… yes,” as I stuttered like an idiot. “That must be it.”

I hoped he bought the lie. Thankfully, he didn’t question me anymore. I wasn’t sure if I should take off my bra and underwear too, but I didn’t want them to get wet. Sticky undies were horrible. My breathing intensified, and I could feel his burning stare on my hot body. I really needed to rinse off in the water. I didn’t hear him undressing, and I frowned to myself that he wasn’t going swimming with me.

Reaching down, I pulled my undergarments off, dropping them to the side. Cool air hit my body. I wanted to cover myself up from his view, but at the same time, I wanted him to look. His reaction made me fearful, but feelings of shame slowly faded.

“You’re not going swimming?” I asked quietly.

I didn’t know if he was still looking at me.

“If my clothes come off, we’re going to do more than just swim.”

My eyes closed at the sexy threat in his masculine voice. My lower legs trembled so much, they almost gave out in front of me. The throbbing pain in my core was back, and I hoped he wouldn’t see me glistening. I wanted him to make the first move, to touch me. I was afraid I would do it all wrong, but he never overstepped when I asked all the things I wanted through hints.

He was so reserved. A mystery.

I needed more. I needed him.

“F… Fine,” I choked out, “You can keep your clothes on.”

I wanted them off though.

When I realized his footsteps hadn’t made their way to the water, another idea went off in my head.

“Where is the lake exactly?”

“It’s just a foot behind me,” he replied.

Hiding a grin, I asked, “Are there rocks there too?”

“No. They’re closer to the edge, but the rest of it is clean water. Why?” His voice laced with suspicion.

“I think you should take out your phone and wallet from your clothes.” I’d hate myself if I damaged his merchandise.

“You are planning something,” Miran mused under his breath.

I grinned at the jingle of the keys in the air.

Giving him ten seconds to drop all his belongings on the ground, I asked, “Where exactly are you?”

“Straight ahead of you. Maybe ten steps?”

Excited, I asked, “Are there rocks in the path or something I would stumble on?”

“No. It’s clear,” he replied, “Oh… you are going to…”

He never got the chance to finish his sentence. I grinned and stormed in the direction of his voice, pushing him with all my might, so we wouldn’t hit the rocks near the edge. I just hoped my playfulness wouldn’t result in our deaths.

A startled choked noise left his lips as we splashed in the cold water. Quickly, rising above the water, I sputtered out mouthfuls of the clean water before giggling like a child.

“What’s wrong with you?” Miran asked, frustrated.

I laughed harder and wrinkled my nose.

“Oh, lighten up. You are so uptight.”

I lost my smile at what slipped out. Crap, I didn’t think I could say that. My body moved with the light waves. Losing all my playfulness, I tried to move and began swimming hard.

But an arm snaked around my waist, holding me tight.

Too late. He caught me.

We were underwater, and the cold water splashed against my breasts. I reached out to wipe the wetness from my face as I breathed hard. I tried to move again, but his grip tightened, pressing his hard body against my soft one.

A whimper left my lips as I waited.

“Did you just call me uptight?” his voice was so low, and his warm breath tickled the back of my icy neck, making me shudder.

I thought of denying it but confirmed it instead.

“Yes, I did.”

Tension filled the atmosphere, liking the game we were playing. I pushed him, and he pushed even harder. His arm around my waist pulled me back, dragging me along the water.

My eyes widened, astonished that we were leaving the lake. Now, he was being mean. “I want to stay in the water longer,” I protested in quick breaths.

Before I could protest again, he lifted my body in the air, and my bottom plopped on the hard rock below me. My feet still dangled in the water freely. I opened my mouth to speak for the second time, but my voice left me when his rough, cool hands parted my legs, exposing my sex to him. My heated flesh tingled at the windy air hitting it. The position made me feel uncomfortable, and I tried to close my legs, but he stood between them. His breaths tickled my inner thighs.

Was he still in the water?

“Maybe I shouldn’t do this,” Miran spoke in a voice so low I had to strain my ears to listen to him. Maybe he was talking to himself. “I just need a taste.”

Taste of what? His hand reached forward, and he draped my leg over his shoulder, cupping my ass. My breaths came out fast and hard. Oh… me.

“Better stop me now, because I fear I won’t stop at all.”

I didn’t stop him.

I gasped in surprise when his face nestled between my stretched, open thighs. He pressed his tongue against my folds, licking the slit all the way down. A small moan left my mouth, and he bit me lightly, making me yelp as he played with my body like an instrument.

My body trembled, and I reached out aimlessly, grabbing his shoulder for support. Hunger grew inside of me, and I wanted more. The roughness of his beard brushed against my sensitive clit, and my legs shook as I breathed hard. His wet locks rubbed against my stomach as he licked me mercilessly.

Not once did I push him away.

Just as quickly he had licked me, he pulled away and his footsteps landed on the rock beside me. I was stumped and stunned that he’d stopped. I blinked rapidly and my legs were still open in front of me, missing his warmth and tongue.

“What happened?” he asked innocently like a boy.

“You…. umm… what was that?” I accused.

“What did it feel like?” he questioned.

I chewed on my lip, suspiciously.

He was playing with me again.

Uptight jerk.

He just licked me, and he wouldn’t admit what he’d done. If he did, it would end the charade we’d been doing. My heated skin flushed everywhere, and I was sure I was beet red. I rose to my feet, searching and wandering on the ground for my dress.

A moment later, it was in my hands.

I assumed that was Miran.

“Oh… must have been an insect, a bug maybe,” I slipped out without thinking.

I wanted to facepalm my forehead so hard right now and roar at him to admit what he’d just done to me, but the jerk still wanted to play innocent. Fine. I wouldn’t admit it until he did. Two can play at the game. Instead, I stayed in denial and declared him as a bug. Fantastic.

Miran was so silent. Dead silent. Maybe I pissed him off.

“Maybe it was a spider, huh?” he taunted instead, making a dig at the Bratva Brotherhood’s symbol.

“Yes,” I replied, nodding fast. With my eyebrows raised, I added, “Stupid spider, huh?”

Then, I clicked my teeth in his voice’s direction.

Aaah… now I was toying with him.

“We should go,” Miran’s lethal voice came out after a few painful seconds.