Trigger Warning: Physical/verbal harassment at the beginning. I tried not to describe it in detail but if you are sensitive to it, please read with some caution.

•  •  •

4

– Jodha –

NEVER IN MY WILDEST dreams did I think my closest friend – my brother – would do something like this.

Struggling, I'm powerless – pinned against his chest as he tells me how he's liked me for so long. A lovely dance with Ranveer turns into my biggest nightmare.

Cheap perfume and bitter perspiration rankle my nose, my feeble hands rallying to push him off. Shoulders and gyrating bodies rub against me as he jerks me with him through the cluster, his feigned dance steps becoming uneven. I put up the best fight I can against his vise-like grip.

It's not enough.

His face bends to mine, lips tracing my earlobe and we're plunged further into the crowd. I lose sight of my friends. Dread crawls beneath my skin, making me shiver. "Jodha, don't fight me. Let me kiss you, touch you."

My vision blurs, teeth grinding together as I choke back the sob threatening to hurtle through my constricting chest. The thick air stifles me. His breath stinks of hard liquor. He's mindless but still, the need to reason with him buoys me.

"For God's sake, Veer, get off me. Don't do this."

My plea makes him grasp onto me tighter, his breath harsh – wild, leering eyes clashing with my horrified pair. "Don't be shy. I know you're hot for it. Dressing skimpy, looking like an obnoxious cock-tease. Don't fucking deny it. Unless...blondie over there already got you." He barks out a cold laugh. "I don't mind sloppy seconds."

My limbs tense, rage consuming me in its maddening wave. Unlikely courage springs forth and my hand raises to deliver the sharpest slap I could muster. What does he think I am?

Before I can swing, a presence swoops in – a weighty hand resting on Veer's shoulder. Finally, his hold loosens as he regards the person with aggravated hostility. An arm encircles my waist, nestling me against a warm, solid mass.

Startled, Carlisle's stormy glower greets me and I relax in a heartbeat. Untold relief and gratitude flood my body. I hang on, closing my eyes as my nerves abate and breathing normalizes.

"Ranveer," he says, a charming smile on his face, "I'm afraid I have to steal this pretty lady away. She owes me a dance."

There's a no-nonsense finality in his tone, brooking no arguments. Ranveer smiles, his beady gaze returning to me – a promising flash that reeks of misconception. "I'm sure she does. It's quite early after all."

That flaring anger bubbles to the surface, my claws eager to scratch his eyes out. Instead, my hand strokes up Carlisle's chest – idling with his shirt. "Yes, Doctor. I'm all yours tonight." My cheeks flush as I aim for a subtle yet sultry stare, making him smirk.

"Whatever the lady wants."

Veer's sneer falters when Carlisle chuckles and curls my arm around his torso.

It's glorious and empowering when my ex-friend desists – but not without a last scowl. Carlisle never breaks eye contact, elegant in his forbidding, six-foot towering glory. His relaxed stance belies the warning that Ranveer wisely heeds.

"See you around, boy."

Carlisle whisks me in the midst of intoxicated patrons, never letting go as I trail backwards from him – urging me to spin into his arms until we're pressed up against each other.

"Stay with me," he whispers in a brief silence and my mouth runs dry as I nod. As if I want to be anywhere else.

A slow, sensual beat drops but Carlisle's molten stare has my palms clammy and skin heated with desire. Taking the lead, I undulate to the beat. Sinuous, teasing as my bosom slides against his chest. My nipples peaking at the sensitive contact. It's almost effortless to forget Ranveer's impropriety. Security cloaks me like a warm blanket as my inhibitions run free.

He responds, catching the rhythm as his arm hooks my waist, taking me along his alluring path. We meld well, moving in cadence, his nimble feet winding us through the floor. Dance has never felt this intimate and sexy. Nothing like I've experienced.

My arms brace his front, fisting his jersey – aching to draw him closer. Then, in a skillful twist, my back is up against him, my palm reaching back to stroke the side of his face as we grind together. Those purposeful hands stay on me, euphoria buzzing in my veins when they drop to my waist – caressing my hips, pulling me closer.

I feel him. Hefty, straining against the zipper of his trousers, tortured by me. His fingers dive into my hair, sweeping it over my shoulder, tickling the crook of my neck before tracing the skin. Unable to bear the sensation, I turn to him – reveling in this delightful want spreading across my limbs.

Knowing our friends can see catches my breath in a delicious, subtle shudder.

His touch sparks flames within me, unabashed infernal desire – all conscious sense pooling between my thighs.

It's overwhelming, dizzying, exhilarating. One look – one touch – from him is enough to melt me into a horny puddle.

He awakens a multitude of emotions that are impossible to wrap my head around.

I'm so needy. So desirous. So...

"Hungry?"

His voice catches me off guard. "Huh?"

A gentle finger crooks my chin up, his smile dazzling. "Did you say you're hungry?"

Mortification rips me but I manage a tiny nod and he grins.

"Alright. Fancy getting the hell out of here?"

"Oh?"

His question makes me balk but my crazy brain considers it. Be alone with Carlisle Cullen for the rest of the night? My subconscious is doing cartwheels in pure joy, begging me to say yes.

"You'll feel much better," he adds, ever the doctor prescribing his remedy for the lonely hearts.

Enticing me in ways no other man will.

After all, he's the one who defended my honour. Under his care, I'm worry-free. Besides, these opportunities are once in a lifetime. Might as well take the chance.

Who knows what tomorrow holds?

"Sure. Why not?" My lips curve into a wide smile.

Even if we go back to our usual routine Monday morning, I'll forever treasure this time spent with Carlisle. Engraved in my memory for eons to come.

● ● ●

– Carlisle –

NONE OF OUR FRIENDS look pleased when Jodha announces that I'm her ride home tonight. Not giving a damn, I brand them all with glares of disappointment. How they can sit here after watching their friend almost get molested beats me. Tittering about Ranveer as if he's a good potential partner for her then having the audacity to assume that she'll be in similar danger with me...

Well, my blood boils at their fucking misguided judgment.

Esme demonstrates trust in me, conceding to Jodha's reassurances that she'll be alright. After she makes Jodha promise to call when home, we're on our way.

Forks is livelier than ever this Saturday night. Through the windshield, a thin crescent surrounded by starlight cruises with us. Music speakers echo old songs at the odd street corner or two. A pleasant, warm breeze gusts through the rolled down windows. We spot a busking artist, serenading passersby with a soulful tune. Young couples parade the streets, hand in hand, engaged in cheery conversations as their carefree actions become lost with every passing second. Forming a memory to be recalled with deep fondness as time fades.

"It's beautiful." Jodha's airy voice is tinged with subdued awe. The bright smile, as she peers up and all around, is so infectious that I can't help but mirror it.

"Yes," I agree, slowing as we near a red light. "I live for nights like these. To drive around without a care in the world, observe life happening from afar. It's refreshing."

She nods, turning to me. "I can see why. There's so much beauty to appreciate. Things that we never see when we're speeding ahead. It's good to just take some time and absorb it all."

"Exactly my thoughts." My heart jumps in amazed delight and I pedal off when the traffic light turns green. "I do this every chance I get. A therapy of sorts. Helps me focus on the days ahead."

She sighs. "I wish I could but the girls prefer the bar routine. Which I don't mind, of course," she hastens to add, gesturing at our view. "I appreciate the bar nights. Otherwise I'd feel like such a third wheel in this setting." A breathy chuckle escapes her and she shifts her gaze back to the window.

The strange melancholy in her voice tugs at me. Jodha allowing her friends to have the upper hand, without ever voicing her true opinions, shows her intrinsic diplomacy. She deserves an outing that caters to her levels of enjoyment.

For friends who claim to give a damn about Jodha, save for Esme, they suck at showing it.

The dam within me breaks. "Join me then. I'll give you experiences you'll never forget."

● ● ●

ANOTHER SLASH OF GUILT attacks me.

Esme hasn't crossed my mind in the last fifteen minutes, the exchange between me and Jodha too immersive to do or think much else.

Now, with her arm in mine, Jodha leads me into the open-air food bazaar. Run by community members of various cultural backgrounds, it's the ideal place to relax and enjoy street food across a plethora of minor ethnic communities in Forks. Customers loiter about, milling between food stalls, searching for their next tasty snack or hot meal.

"Ooh, Carlisle, let's go there."

I'm hauled towards a tent manned by a middle-aged Indian vendor who seems focused on cooking. His few customers eat from mini silver bowls. We look a tad out of place in this casual setting, but Jodha isn't bothered as her heels click on the asphalt.

"I love pani puri with all my heart," she tells me as we near the stall and I can't help but chuckle at her abundant appreciation. As if reuniting with a long-lost lover. A brow arches, her dark brown eyes questioning me.

Shaking my head, the smile doesn't leave my face but she seems to let my humor go especially when it's her turn to order. "Order whatever you like, it's on me."

"Don't you want?"

"No."

"Why?" Her tone hinges on disappointment, her brimming levity dissolving with her broad smile. "Eating alone is no fun."

"Really now?"

"Yeah." The smile returns with megawatt intensity and sparkling eyes to match. "My dad and I come here occasionally and we don't eat. We share an experience that makes the food taste better."

The vendor returns, giving her a silver bowl filled with a very spicy-smelling liquid. A golden crisp, that's been heavily stuffed, soaks it in.

"Food is so personal. It's not just fuel," she adds, swirling the bowl so the liquid coats the entire crisp. "It's central to so many memories. At least it is in my family. My parents always celebrate their anniversary with KFC and Cokes, what they had on their first date. Dad had sympathy cravings for pani puri when my mom was having me."

Her teeth capture her lower lip and she winces. For spouting off, perhaps. I don't mind. She's amusing.

"I take it your parents find every opportunity to eat?"

"Of course! Why do you think Diya's Patisserie is so popular? People love affordable convenience and tasty food." Her sultry giggles make a few men nearby turn their heads.

Silly girl, but her exuberant talks has me cracking a smile.

"Oh, did you enjoy your parcel?"

"Seeing that it was my favourite pasta and dessert, I did. Thank you. It was a lovely surprise."

She hums, nodding with a half-smile. "Ma knows your orders pretty well, strangely. But I knew you'd like it."

Uncanny pleasure washes over me at her words. "When the Absaloms are such excellent cuisine connoisseurs, how can I not like it?"

"Guess that's why I have a refined palate," she chirps, lifting the near-soggy snack to my lips. "Think you can handle it?"

Nervous anticipation fills me, making me gulp hard, yet my taste-buds prickle. Greedy for every flavour to overwhelm me yet cautious, because this is not how I expected this night to go.

This isn't my style when it comes to women. I take them to the most expensive restaurant out of town, loosen them up and charm the underwear off them in some hotel before disappearing the next morning.

I'm used to taking the lead. Used to calling the shots.

But not here.

Hell, not since Jodha told me she's mine tonight. Casting those bedroom eyes at me, despite it being meant to provoke another man. Rubbing her supple body up on me like a professional stripper.

It's downright frustrating to correlate this vixen with the person I know and respect. It doesn't fit yet she makes it work...a little too well.

And that terrifies me.

Nevertheless, there's a tension within her, evident in the slight tremor in her hands. A lack of true confidence that's replaced by false bravado. As if she waiting for rejection.

But I'm here to pursue and possess. By no means am I driving her away.

"I'll handle you anytime, sweetheart," I murmur, lowering my head. For a split second, I consider planting a kiss on her lips but refrain. She's in no shape for that.

Her delicate fingers brush my mouth, my teeth grazing over them as I take an ample bite of the flavourful snack. Every sensation is a live wire, electrifying my nerve endings in the most invigorating way.

Liquid drips down my lips and I don't miss how her eyes hood. How that pink tongue darts out to swipe pouty lips. Taunting me.

The heat sets in.

I choke.

"You okay, Carlisle?"

A blaze radiates from my tongue to my watering eyes. I suck in the night air to combat the unrelenting pepper which seems to build with every chew. Coughs ravage me as I swallow but I hide behind a clasped fist, attempting to maintain some self-respect even as I gasp for water.

She jumps into action, rushing to the nearest cooler but not before popping my half-eaten snack in her mouth. Good God.

So much for handling her.

● ● ●

– Jodha –

TIME DRIFTS, SAILING LIKE the lazy wisps of dark clouds marring the moon's beauty. Evening progresses to late night but the food bazaar remains packed to the brim.

Once Carlisle recovers from his first puri, we indulge in a couple more without mishap before he introduces me to West African fufu. Not only is the texture satin smooth but it pairs well with a rich, hearty meat and vegetable stew.

"Did we really spend the last hour talking about food?"

"Seems so." Carlisle picks at his fufu ball with a closemouthed smile. "Not that I mind."

"You probably think I'm a fatty now."

He laughs at that, loud and musical, and my core clenches.

"I assure you, you're not a fatty in the slightest." Those cerulean eyes scorch a trail from my face as he tilts his head to get a good look at my entire frame.

The flavours, spices and his heated appraisal warms my soul. "What else do you like?"

He thinks on it, levelling his ocean gaze at me as he plants his elbows on the rickety table. "I'm a man of variety, Jodha. Many things interest me but few keep my attention."

"What holds your attention now then?"

"You."

My racing heart skids right off the tracks. "I see. What about me?"

He sighs and it's hard to tell if he's annoyed or pondering my question.

"For starters, your poor judgment of character."

What? "I..." My eyes grow big.

He raises an eyebrow. "And your inability to refuse people."

My stomach flips, appetite waning. "Sounds like you're blaming me for the position I got myself in earlier."

"I'm not but damn it, Jodha, if you were mine..." He drops his fork, shaking his head as those cerulean irises gleam with predatory coldness. "That son of a bitch would be in the ER right now."

Oh my heavens.

I'm rendered mute, unsure of how to reply – warming at the idea of being his in such a manner.

"But I don't start fights," he continues, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I finish them, and scum like him isn't worth it." He brands me with a chastising gaze. "Just...be more careful, will you?"

Fighting the need to roll my eyes, the fufu calls to me. "Are you done castigating me, sir?"

Both his brows shoot up this time, azure fire stoked in his stare. "Taking you across my knee for that smart mouth is a viable idea."

Arousal slams into me, a coiling heat that leaves me utterly speechless at the image forming in my mind. His stinging handprint on my brown ass.

I must look like a deer in headlights because the slightest crook of his lips gives way to a smug smile. "Don't worry. Not tonight."

My heart jackhammers at the implication of seeing him again and I blow out a shaky breath. "Then I'd like to thank you."

"What for?"

"Everything."

This time, when our eyes meet, there's no looking away. The energy between us is palpable, magnetic and my heart is a slave to its invisible pull.

● ● ●

– Carlisle –

HAVING THE REST OF the night to myself is my final goal. Fatigue doesn't begin to describe the severity of my mental condition.

However, as much as it pains me to admit...my time with Jodha has been quite enjoyable in its own messy, awkward way.

Her company is pleasant in that messy, awkward way.

She's equal parts brazen and reserved, two sides of a cursed coin. Innocuous in passing with an unpredictability that can endanger inflated egos brave enough to play. Still, there's an innocence shrouding it all – unable to be ruined.

Knowing how partial she is towards me should make things easier but it only serves to confound me and disrupt my plans.

No woman has ever been so real with me.

Before my mind runs wild, I will it to be rational. A sinking feeling resonates deep within my gut, linked to an indiscernible source of anxiety.

I glance at her in the passenger's side. Dozing. Trusting me to lead her home safe and sound. The hem of her dress has ridden up, revealing an indecent amount of leg and my blood stokes hotter. An insane part of me is tempted to edge closer, run my knuckles along the expanse and sink my fingers into yielding flesh.

Instead, I clutch the steering wheel – training my scattered focus back on the road. This isn't how it's supposed to be.

Nothing's how it's supposed to be, dumbass.

Sighing, my foot presses lower on the gas pedal and the engine purrs louder – drowning out the unease roiling along with my pounding heart.

Mere minutes later, we roll to a stop. Jodha is still asleep, oblivious. Not even the seatbelt clicking free bothers her.

Her lack of self-preservation instincts alarms me but an inner pride hums at the fact that she feels this safe in my presence. She has no defenses, no walls for me to scale past.

Is it naïveté? Is she giving me the benefit of the doubt? Either way, I'm the worst choice she'll ever make.

Leaning over, with the intention of releasing her harness, vanilla and wildflowers flood my nostrils. I have to resist sinking my nose in her neck, drinking in her lingering essence.

She emits soft, indistinct murmurs and something tells me if she's allowed to progress further then I'll be carrying her.

Nevertheless, her rare beauty has me transfixed. Frozen, caught in her fragile web, the urge to touch is strong. My fingers shoot out, pausing a few millimeters from her cheek. Her warmth stirs my desire, making me release a shaky breath when my fingertips make contact.

Smooth, flawless and tender.

I've touched many women before. Just as perfect and beautiful – maybe even more so.

Unlike all the other women, however, Jodha has a hold on me.

This featherlight graze makes my cock jolt. My fingers explore further, sweeping along her jaw before travelling upwards to mark the outline of her nose – craving something that's inexplicable but crackles at me in debilitating waves.

This want for more. To touch with abandon, to savour the fragrance and taste with wicked recklessness. It's fucking mad.

It's unusual, this festering frenzy, blotting out coherency. "God."

On cue, reality dumps me in its stinging ice bath.

She moans, limbs stretching, eyelids fluttering open in a shallow daze as she comes to, searing me with her stare. A hazy, half-lidded sight that makes my blood rush south. "Mmm...Carlisle?"

"Rise and shine, girl. You're home."

Her hand trails over mine that still rests on her cheek. "Wha...What are you doing?"

"I want to kiss you." The words tumble out of me with incredulous ease, laced with disconcerting truth. "But the choice is yours."

"Huh?" She's alert now. Lips moving without sound, mind grappling with my words. How can she try to understand when even I don't know what plagues me?

Lying to myself, masking the reality, seems ludicrous now.

"Will you let me kiss you, Jodha?"

Sleepy doe eyes peer up at me and I brush away the hair obscuring her view, testing my already weakening will.

"Please?"

The moon blesses her with its silvery charm, illuminating her dark features. A moonbeam come to life. Her teeth gnaw on her plump bottom lip as she gives an almost imperceptible nod – and I lose all control.

A low groan awakens within me, clawing at my throat, clamoring at the bars of my gritted teeth – deep and feral. My thumb jerks her lip free, making her gasp.

"Fuck, you've been biting that lip all night. Makes me wanna steal a taste." I grip her jaw, hand hooking beneath her chin. Her breath staggers, heavy and hot, ending on a short whimper when our lips finally meet.

She's pliant, succumbing to my will as her fingers find their way into my hair. Scraping along my scalp, making me elicit a primeval sound. Her tremulous lips are tentative, mimicking what I do. It should astonish me but truly, it spurs me on. Arrogance seizes me, knowing that I'm the first man to have this, and I kiss harder – making her moan into me, leading her in this intimate dance.

My shaft hardens at the pure innocence I hold in my palm. I'm fucking stupefied, dragging my open mouth all along her skin and neck, slipping the thin strap of her dress off her shoulder to taste the salty tang of unblemished skin.

I want to drag her onto my lap. Feel her grinding on my cock. I want to hear more of those sounds. I want-

"Carlisle, stop." Loss prevails when she tears away. We're both panting. Reeling, no doubt, but she fixes herself and releases the seatbelt, reaching for the door.

"Jodha."

She stops and turns, just enough for me to catch bruised lips and glassy eyes which examine me. There's a question in them. One that I'm unsure of answering.

"What do you want from me?"

A puffing laugh leaves me but there's no mistaking her serious undertone. "I'm afraid I don't understand, moonbeam." She startles at my fumble but says nothing.

"What are your intentions?" She licks her lips, averting her gaze. "With me."

"Why do you ask?" I try to keep my expression neutral, tracing the edge of the steering wheel to steel my nerves.

"Because your relation with the other nurses is no secret."

That blow knocks me back into sobriety and as I scramble to come up with a response, she continues.

"You should know that I'm not that type of girl, Carlisle." She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes before giving me a sad smile. "If you know that's your intention with me, I'm sorry to tell you but...I won't become another notch on your bedpost."

"It's not like that." My voice hinges on a whisper and I'm not sure if she picks it up, too caught up in this discomfiting pit of shame. I always hold my head high, even when the boys or women themselves take jabs at me for my wayward living. Their opinions mean nothing to me.

Why do I care for hers?

Grabbing her mini purse, she reaches for the door and offers me her sugar-coated words. "Thank you again, Carlisle. I had a lovely time. Have a good night."

Stepping out into the balmy night, she leaves me adrift in a sea of self-deprecation – ruminating on every sinful, low thing I've done in my life. I shouldn't feel like this but fuck...

It hurts.

● ● ●

Word Count: 4119 (don't ask)

Accumulated Word Count: 13,164

● ● ●

I didn't make it into Round 2 but I'll still be keeping track of my word count because it's practical.

Hopefully, this chapter is entertaining enough for you despite the length.

If you enjoyed it, kindly vote and comment! Don't forget to share this with your Twilight-loving friends also.

Thanks so much for reading.

– HEAVEN