I lost my balance and ended up on top of her, my lips crashing into hers in a startled, breath-stealing kiss.
One hand was firm at her neck, the other gripping her bosom-yes, her bosom-because apparently my coordination had chosen the worst possible moment to abandon me.
I looked at her. Her heart was racing-I could feel it-and so was mine.
Her cheeks flushed red, and I knew mine mirrored hers, both of us caught in the same wave of shock and pure embarrassment.
I closed my eyes and slowly loosened my grip, painfully aware of her body slipping from my hand.
As I lifted it away, my fingers trembled, betraying just how affected I was by the moment.
Two women on a bed.
And three husbands watching.
Fantastic.
I pulled back instantly, pulse racing-mortified, flustered, and painfully aware of how wrong and how hot it must have looked. If embarrassment could kill, I'd have been dead on the spot.
Whatever that was... it was definitely not innocent.
I got up from the bed, completely embarrassed, and went straight to my room.
The moment I stepped inside, I buried my face in the pillow. For a few minutes, I didn't even move-just lay there, letting the mortification settle.
Then I heard a knock.
It was Arun.
"You gave my eyes a very good treat," he said cheerfully.
I shot him a glare.
"I'm already embarrassed," I warned. "Don't make it worse."
He only grinned and stretched a hand toward me.
"Stop feeling bad about touching a girl by mistake-especially someone who might be a scammer."
I got up, and he pulled me into a playful hug-the kind friends share, easy and warm.
I frowned slightly.
"I thought men aren't allowed in a woman's room. Why are you always in mine?"
He looked genuinely shocked.
"What? Men aren't allowed in men's rooms. They are allowed in their wife's room-as long as the equation between brothers is good."
"Oh. Really?" I said. "That's not what Kaveri told me."
He tightened his hold a little and explained,
"If the equation between husbands isn't good, then they aren't allowed. But if it is good, it's fine."
As he spoke, I looked at him properly-noticed how beautiful he was. I could even see traces of Varun in him. Similar height. Similar build. Different face.
"It's okay when it's Varun's turn," he added. "I know where my boundaries end. I've learned that from experience."
Just then, Varun entered the room.
He looked at us-no jealousy, no anger, no irritation.
"That was actually very cool to watch," he said casually.
Arun released me and gently passed me toward Varun. I didn't want to leave that hug-it had felt warm and comforting-but it wasn't Arun's turn.
As I hugged Varun, the familiarity continued. Same height. Same stature. Just a slightly different presence.
And suddenly, I understood something important.
In this system, the bond between brothers mattered more than the bond between husband and wife. Arun knew exactly how far his boundaries went-even when it wasn't his turn. And Varun was okay with it. Not jealous. Not threatened.
But when it came to Karan... his reaction had been completely different.
That difference said everything.
"I should go downstairs," Arun said. "I ordered cameras for the blind spots. If she really is a scammer, anything can happen, anytime."
As Arun left, Varun locked the door immediately.
He turned to me with a slow, satisfied smile.
"That grabbing... that visual," he said, shaking his head slightly. "One girl with another-ufff. I won't lie. It really turned me on."
I burst out laughing, heat creeping up my cheeks.
"Well," I said lightly, "I'm glad I could accidentally fulfill one of your fantasies."
His smile deepened, eyes dark with amusement-and promise.
He lifted me onto his lap effortlessly.
"Shall we go for one round?" Varun murmured, burying his face into my shoulder.
I laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"We have a scammer in the house," I said. "Let's wait until we can kick her out."
He sighed dramatically and fake-cried against my shoulder.
"And we already cancelled our bike ride plan," he complained.
"True, let's"
I paused for a second,
"not wait then." I said, smiling.
Varun didn't rush me.
That was the first thing I noticed.
His hands rested at my waist, warm and familiar, thumbs drawing slow, absent-minded circles as if he was grounding himself before touching me any further. The teasing smile was gone now-replaced by something quieter, heavier.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
I nodded, though my pulse told a different story.
He leaned in, forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling. And then a kiss.
This kiss wasn't startled or accidental-it was deliberate.
Slow.
Exploratory.
Like he was asking permission every second he waited.
It wasn't hunger that led it -it was recognition.
My fingers slipped into his hair, tugging gently, and he exhaled against my mouth like he'd been holding that breath for far too long. His hands tightened at my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left to misunderstand.
Everything about him felt familiar-safe-but the way he touched me now carried intent. Ownership without force. Desire without urgency.
I whispered his name, barely audible.
That was enough.
His mouth traced my jaw, my neck, lingering just long enough to make me ache for more-then stopping, as if reminding me that this wasn't about losing control.
It was about choosing each other.
When his lips finally returned to mine, the world narrowed to heat and breath and the quiet sounds we made when we forgot to be careful.
There was mirror work on my ceiling. I could see us reflected there, bodies close, his focus entirely on me while my hands stayed tangled in his hair. The sight of us like that-unfiltered, absorbed, undone-sent a slow heat through me.
I couldn't look away. There was something dangerously intoxicating about watching two bodies enjoy each other so completely, without hesitation or restraint.
Seeing us like that only intensified everything, the reflection of our body movements in different positions, making it harder to stay grounded, easier to give in.
I couldn't ignore two bodies lose themselves like that, desire written plainly in every touch, every shift.
"Yes... yes... yes," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction when I was exploring his...
As it was over, his hands still rested at my neck, our bodies slick with warmth and sweat, skin sliding against skin as if neither of us was ready to let go just yet.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, letting our breathing slow, letting the world return piece by piece. He lay on top of me, his head resting just below my navel, heavy and content, as if that place belonged to him.
I looked down at him, and something dangerous stirred in my chest.
And somewhere between his whispered laugh and my fingers clutching at his shoulders, the rest of the evening disappeared-
not loud, not rushed,
just deeply, dangerously intimate.
For a fleeting moment, my heart wanted only him and me-no rules, no system, no shared bonds. Just us.
And that was wrong.
I was married to three men.
But my heart committed that crime anyway.
A message from Divya distracted me from my thoughts and there was details about Shreya's doctor. Which I wanted to use at the right time.
I went downstairs in the evening to check on Karan, thinking it must have been a difficult day for him.
But as I approached his room, I heard Shreya's voice.