Play It Right

13. Small Talk

Fluent Bengali drifted around the warm kitchen whilst the sun still rose through the windows. Her Sylhet native mother tutted in the background, her words coming out so fast.

"And where is that smart, strong, handsome husband of yours, shona?"

"Amma," she groaned, hearing her mother's absurd thoughts out loud. "I'm trying to talk to you and you're more interested in where he is? That's not okay."

"Hm, you haven't secretly gotten divorced have you? What would everyone say? I hope you're keeping him happy."

Her frown deepened at the sexist remark and she reached for the pancake mix, pouring it as carefully as she could into the sizzling pan. "What about him keeping me happy? I don't understand why you think he's an angel sent from above when he's not."

Of course, her mother only cared about the one thing she wanted her daughter to marry and said, "Well, he's religious and comes from good money. What else should I wish for my only daughter?"

Maybe love and genuine happiness? She mused, in annoyance.

That was just a thought though, of course.

It was like the devil knew when he was spoken about and as her phone was balanced on the edge of the wall and her mother's warmth generated off the screen, she heard footsteps entering the kitchen.

Luckily, as she looked up she spotted his tall figure in a white cotton t-shirt and a pair of grey joggers. He wasn't shirtless for once, leaving her to relieve her shoulders.

Mishti pursed her lips, giving him a warning stare. "Amma's on the phone."

Emir was mid-yawn, heading for the sink when she spoke to him plainly. She thought waking up at the crack of dawn would mean she would have the kitchen to herself but clearly, her husband's main goal in life was to bother her with his presence.

He got into act, walking over to her. He came up behind her, placing his chin on her shoulder and pushing his head further into the screen.

Since he couldn't speak Bangla, he tried to communicate with his mother-in-law in the shared language of English. Trying to be mindful and slower with his words, his husky morning voice filtered in. "As-salamu alaykum Maa, how are you?"

The young woman sighed, he was in her personal space but she knew he was doing it on purpose.

Not bothering to tell him to piss off, she continued pouring the mix in to form a perfect amount of fluffiness and looked on ahead.

Mishti's amusement grew, muttering to her stunned mother in her language again. "Oh, so now you have limited vocabulary for him? What happened to wanting to see your perfect son-in-law?"

Hearing the foreign words slip out of her mouth, the Turkish man moved further into her neck, making her squirm at the proximity. She was certain her mother was probably overjoyed but she was embarrassed beyond relief. "You talking about me, güzelim?"

She moved to flip the pancakes with her spatula, making sure to elbow him straight to the gut in the process.

"Sure, you can say that. I'm just telling her how amazing you are as a husband." She mocked, avoiding his gaze.

Her mother was giddy with joy, her demeanour turning into a shy mess. "Salam, my son. I am very well."

"That's good. How's your health? How's Baba's?"

Asking the two main things he knew she wanted to hear, her mother's smile got wider. "We are both healthy and well! Thank you for asking me. You look very handsome today, my son, you are well too?"

"I'm great." He chuckled lowly. "Although, it would be nice if you could tell Mishti to tell me that I look handsome. She is too mean to me."

"Mishy!" Her mother scolded, then directed her attention back to him. "Forgive her. She is useless, she cannot keep a husband."

Seeing as this one was her first marriage, she begged to differ.

She had no idea what the rest of the convo consisted of, she was too busy trying to ignore them. When her mother was satisfied and saying her farewells and to give her love to the kids, she managed to say goodbye and hang up.

Although, the brute didn't bother to part ways with her, his lips attaching to her skin.

"You're going to be taking it further today, yeah?" He muttered into her, causing her to frown. She placed the last pancake onto the plate, going to move away from him when he tightened his hold on her. "You'll be asking the cunt for more."

"Yes, I know." She stressed, getting annoyed at his closeness. "Why are you telling me how to do my job?"

He nestled his face under her neck, inhaled deeply and licked the side. "I'm not telling you. I'm making sure you're aware of what is expected."

His hand came around her face, tilting her chin up further to expose more of her neck.

Mishti felt his mouth go to unmarked skin and begin sucking on it very hard.

"Our agreement still stands."

Not to fuck the enemy.

She didn't need him to say it to know what he was referring to, the man could be so dense at times.

She hadn't touched or engaged in anything sexual with another man since him, she wasn't sure why he was so fixated on her not sleeping with the mobster. It wouldn't happen.

"We're not doing any of that here, there are men everywhere." Although her protest, her back pressed against his chest further, letting him kiss his way the slope of her neck. "Not to mention the kids."

"We haven't fucked in front of the men before, güzelim?" He scoffed roughly, forcing her to bite down on her bottom lip.

"Leave me alone." She warned, trying to move away from him. "Emir! I'm being fucking serious, go away."

If her skin wasn't already burning from the heat, it sure was now. His mouth continued sucking and nibbling around her neck.

And just when he felt her move her elbow back to drive into his stomach once again, he was letting go and moving away.

With a scratch to the back of his head, the half-asleep man continued on his original journey to the sink, grabbing a clean glass and filling it up with water.

He acted like nothing was unusual, tilting the contents into his mouth in one large swallow before he walked out of there.

Her hand shot up to graze against her sore spot and she scowled, realising what his intentions were.

The fucker had left a huge hickey on her neck, one that would be a bitch to hide.