His silence his pride ( continuation)

Dirty Game

As they prepared for night to sleep Mahra suggested the game which they played previous week. Mahra had a mischievous glint in her eye, one that Zaid didn't notice until it was too late. This time, she'd come prepared, wearing extra layers beneath her loose hoodie and sweatpants.

 Meanwhile, Zaid—confident from his previous win—didn't feel the need to overdo it with layers. After all, he'd won last time so easily, right?

But as the game progressed, Zaid quickly realized he'd underestimated her this time. Mahra kept removing one extra piece after another, and each time he lost, he was forced to shed something, leaving him more and more exposed. Eventually, he found himself down to just his pants and boxers, while Mahra still had her t-shirt, sweatpants, and a look of victory on her face.

When he lost another round and was forced to take off his shirt, Mahra couldn't resist the grin that spread across her face. She couldn't help but admire him—his toned arms, the sharp lines of his shoulders, the way his skin caught the light. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she realized she was openly admiring him, and she quickly tried to mask it by laughing, but Zaid noticed.

His face turned slightly red under her gaze, and he shifted uncomfortably. "What? Stop looking at me like that," he grumbled, trying to sound casual, but she could see he was uncomfortable with her attention.

She shrugged, feigning innocence. "What? I can't enjoy the view?"

Zaid raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, so this was your plan all along, wasn't it?"

Mahra bit her lip, suppressing a giggle. "Maybe. I mean, it's not my fault you didn't wear more clothes. You could have, you know."

He took a step closer to her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh, so that's how it is, huh? You enjoy making me lose?"

"Only a little," she replied with a grin, tilting her head in challenge.

As they continued, Mahra lost another round and, with a smirk, removed her hijab, letting her long, dark hair fall freely around her shoulders. Zaid's breath hitched as he watched the silky strands cascade down her back, framing her face in a way that left him momentarily stunned. He'd seen her without her hijab only once before, but now, up close, he was captivated by her beauty in a way he hadn't expected.

For a moment, he forgot about the game entirely. His gaze softened as he took in her appearance, and Mahra noticed, blushing under his attentive stare. Her heart fluttered as she felt his eyes on her, and she quickly looked away, suddenly feeling shy.

But the game continued, and soon, Zaid lost once more. With a defeated sigh, he stood up and unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop, leaving him in just his boxers. 

Mahra's grin widened as she enjoyed his embarrassment, savoring the fact that the tables had finally turned.

She raised an eyebrow, unable to resist teasing him. "Looks like someone underestimated me," she said, folding her arms as she sat back, thoroughly amused.

Zaid, feeling the heat of her stare, shook his head, smiling despite himself. "You're something else," he muttered, crossing his arms to try and cover himself a bit.

Mahra gave a small, triumphant laugh. "I told you, I didn't stop you from wearing extra layers. You only have yourself to blame."

He took a few steps closer until he was right in front of her, leaning down so that their faces were inches apart. His voice dropped to a low, husky tone as he asked, "Are you sure you want to see me like this? Or... do you want to see more?"

Mahra's eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed as she realized the challenge in his words. She swallowed, her heart racing. "I... I wasn't trying to... I mean..."

Zaid's smirk deepened, and he tilted his head slightly, his gaze intense. "So, what's your plan here, Mahra? Now that you've got me down to this?" he asked, holding her gaze with a mix of amusement and intrigue.

Her lips parted, her voice barely a whisper. "Can't I see my husband without clothes?" She lifted her chin defiantly, though her voice was soft. "I don't think it's a crime."

His smile faltered for a second, and he looked at her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. "Is that so?" he murmured, his tone laced with both playfulness and something deeper, something that made her shiver.

She felt her cheeks warm, her heart pounding as the room seemed to narrow, leaving only the two of them in that shared, unspoken moment. Zaid leaned closer, his gaze never leaving hers, and she could feel the warmth radiating from him, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face.

Mahra's breath hitched, and for a moment, she was entirely lost in the closeness, in the electric tension between them. There was no game, no teasing—just a shared connection, a tenderness that left her speechless.

Finally, Zaid pulled back slightly, his smile softened, and he whispered, "Maybe we should play a different game."

Mahra let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, nodding with a soft laugh. "Yeah... maybe."

The rest of the evening was filled with quiet laughter and gentle touches, a newfound intimacy blossoming between them as they shared a warmth that went beyond words. The game had ended, but they both knew something much deeper had just begun.