Rebel Hard
Page 33
As he stroked himself to release under the heated spray, he imagined Nayna’s tongue as she licked her way down his abs and decided to go further. Those soft lips surrounding him, her long, slender-fingered hands on his thighs, her hair falling forward as she—
“Fuck.”
He came so hard that his back bowed and white spots flickered in front of his eyes. Slumping back against the shower wall while the water cascaded over him, washing away the signs of his orgasm, he told himself that he had to get a better handle on this. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to make it good for Nayna when she was ready to let him. And he wanted to make it good for her. So damn good.
Finally getting out of the shower again ten minutes later, his body under control but his mind full of thoughts of her, he checked his phone to make sure she hadn’t sent him a message. Nothing.
His adorably drunk Nayna was probably fast asleep by now.
He’d been worried there for a second that she was out somewhere and clearly incapacitated, but knowing that she was with her best friend, the two of them getting drunk safely at home, made him grin. He wondered if she’d remember what she’d said to him when she woke up tomorrow. If she didn’t, he’d be certain to remind her. It wasn’t every day that a man got told he was cute and that a woman wanted to lick his abs.
Rubbing at his stubbled jaw, he said, “Cute” and chuckled.
He dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, then pulled on his sneakers and padded down the stone pathway that connected his one-bedroom unit to his parents’ place.
His friend Sailor didn’t get it, how he could still live so close to his folks. Sailor loved his parents, but he’d been out of their place as soon as possible. But this was Raj’s normal. As the eldest son, he was expected to live at home—and to bring his bride home too. Raj had never felt like rebelling against that aspect of his culture; he’d grown up in a multigenerational family home, and he wanted that for his children too.
Of course, he’d extend his place to be bigger. The family had the room on their patch of land, and no way was he sharing living space with Navin and Komal. He’d likely have to build a room for Aditi too, or she’d curse him to eternity, he thought with an inward laugh.
Raj, did you dream of a homemaker wife and lots of children?
The memory of Nayna’s solemn question made his lingering smile fade. He wanted to get in his truck and find her right now, had planned to track her down after his shower, but she was in no state to talk.
“Tomorrow,” he promised himself. He’d find Nayna tomorrow and make her understand that she was the most important part of his dreams now. Everything else they could work out. She didn’t have to be afraid he’d try to put her in a box. Never would he do that to his bright, brilliant Nayna.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered again, and it was a vow.
24
(very quiet whispers only please)
“Nayna.”
Nayna buried her head under the pillow, wondering why someone was playing the tabla inside her skull. But then a cruel hand came and ripped the pillow away.
“Nayna,” the voice said again. “Wake up or you’ll miss your flight.”
Groaning, Nayna cracked open one eyelid. “I hate you,” she said to her best friend. “How can you be so chipper?” As far as she knew, Ísa had drunk exactly as much tequila as she had.
Ísa raised an eyebrow. “Do you remember how I told you not to get started on the half bottle of whiskey I found?”
Nayna scowled. “What bottle of whiskey?”
“Exactly.” Throwing the pillow aside, Ísa pointed toward the bathroom. “Shower, then I’ll drop you off at the airport if you want.”
Usually, if Nayna was traveling within the country, she just parked her car in the airport’s long-term parking lot, but today she nodded. She was going to be gone at least a week, maybe more, and she didn’t want to leave her car in the lot for that long.
“I’ll go grab your stuff.” Ísa picked up Nayna’s keys. “And I’ll move the car to your parents’ place tomorrow.”
Staggering into the bathroom, Nayna turned the shower to as hot as she could handle, then stepped in. It was halfway through, as the heat burned away the last of the alcohol fumes that she began to remember. Eyes huge, she slid open the shower door, and yelled out, “Did I call Raj last night and tell him I wanted to lick his abs? And that I was going to have sex dreams about him?”
Given the hysterical laughter that came from the direction of Ísa’s kitchen area, the answer was a resounding yes. Dear God. Ducking back into the shower as her face flamed, Nayna quickly finished washing up. Ísa had thrown in her overnight bag in the interim, so after stepping out of the shower and drying off, she brushed her teeth using the toothbrush she’d bought yesterday. Technically, she thought, overnight bag wasn’t the right term.
It was more a “running away from home” bag.
After slapping on some moisturizer from the hastily assembled bag of toiletries, she put away the bottle, then dug through to find clothes. Panties, bra, jeans, T-shirt, socks, and she was done. She stuffed her heels in one corner of the bag.
Taking it to near the front door, she saw Ísa had found her trainers. She left the bag beside the shoes, brought over her laptop bag and purse from where she’d left them in the lounge the previous night, then joined Ísa at the breakfast counter. Her friend pushed a bowl of porridge toward her. Made Aji’s way. And with brown sugar on top. “You’re the best,” she told her friend. “My abused stomach thanks you.”
When her phone beeped, she figured it must be a text from her mother reminding her of her second cousin’s son’s fourth birthday party—which she was supposed to attend tonight. If she hadn’t intended to run away, she’d most definitely have worked late. She loved children, but that four-year-old was a horror. Last time Nayna had been around him, he’d purposefully spit orange juice on her dress while his mother looked on indulgently.
However, it wasn’t Shilpa Sharma who’d messaged her. The name on the screen was Raj and the attached image was of his abs with the caption: Ready to be licked.
Groaning, she dropped her head to the counter and banged it twice while Ísa grabbed her phone—and began to laugh so hard she nearly fell off her stool.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” Nayna said. “Isn’t that in the friend code?”
“I was drunk,” Ísa pointed out, gray-green eyes dancing. “And man, he does have nice abs!”
“You can lick your gardener’s abs. Gimme back mine.” She’d swiped the phone into her hand before she realized what she’d said.
Mine.
“Hey,” she blurted out in an attempt to distract herself and her clever best friend, “you never told me about cactus love.”
“Eat your porridge.” Ísa shoved a big spoonful into her own mouth.
Nayna didn’t think she was hungry, but she got to the bottom of her bowl. After which she drank a huge cup of black coffee, and then the two of them rushed out the door. Thankfully traffic was light this early in the morning, and Ísa was able to drop her off right in front of the domestic terminal.
Nayna gave her friend a quick hug, grabbed her bag, and said, “Remember, cone of silence.” She intended to text both her family and Raj just as she was about to board, let them know she was fine and that she was taking off for a few days. Nayna would never leave them to fear for her safety—she’d experienced that awful sensation herself when Madhuri left; to inflict it on another human being was beyond her.
“Fuck.”
He came so hard that his back bowed and white spots flickered in front of his eyes. Slumping back against the shower wall while the water cascaded over him, washing away the signs of his orgasm, he told himself that he had to get a better handle on this. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to make it good for Nayna when she was ready to let him. And he wanted to make it good for her. So damn good.
Finally getting out of the shower again ten minutes later, his body under control but his mind full of thoughts of her, he checked his phone to make sure she hadn’t sent him a message. Nothing.
His adorably drunk Nayna was probably fast asleep by now.
He’d been worried there for a second that she was out somewhere and clearly incapacitated, but knowing that she was with her best friend, the two of them getting drunk safely at home, made him grin. He wondered if she’d remember what she’d said to him when she woke up tomorrow. If she didn’t, he’d be certain to remind her. It wasn’t every day that a man got told he was cute and that a woman wanted to lick his abs.
Rubbing at his stubbled jaw, he said, “Cute” and chuckled.
He dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, then pulled on his sneakers and padded down the stone pathway that connected his one-bedroom unit to his parents’ place.
His friend Sailor didn’t get it, how he could still live so close to his folks. Sailor loved his parents, but he’d been out of their place as soon as possible. But this was Raj’s normal. As the eldest son, he was expected to live at home—and to bring his bride home too. Raj had never felt like rebelling against that aspect of his culture; he’d grown up in a multigenerational family home, and he wanted that for his children too.
Of course, he’d extend his place to be bigger. The family had the room on their patch of land, and no way was he sharing living space with Navin and Komal. He’d likely have to build a room for Aditi too, or she’d curse him to eternity, he thought with an inward laugh.
Raj, did you dream of a homemaker wife and lots of children?
The memory of Nayna’s solemn question made his lingering smile fade. He wanted to get in his truck and find her right now, had planned to track her down after his shower, but she was in no state to talk.
“Tomorrow,” he promised himself. He’d find Nayna tomorrow and make her understand that she was the most important part of his dreams now. Everything else they could work out. She didn’t have to be afraid he’d try to put her in a box. Never would he do that to his bright, brilliant Nayna.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered again, and it was a vow.
24
(very quiet whispers only please)
“Nayna.”
Nayna buried her head under the pillow, wondering why someone was playing the tabla inside her skull. But then a cruel hand came and ripped the pillow away.
“Nayna,” the voice said again. “Wake up or you’ll miss your flight.”
Groaning, Nayna cracked open one eyelid. “I hate you,” she said to her best friend. “How can you be so chipper?” As far as she knew, Ísa had drunk exactly as much tequila as she had.
Ísa raised an eyebrow. “Do you remember how I told you not to get started on the half bottle of whiskey I found?”
Nayna scowled. “What bottle of whiskey?”
“Exactly.” Throwing the pillow aside, Ísa pointed toward the bathroom. “Shower, then I’ll drop you off at the airport if you want.”
Usually, if Nayna was traveling within the country, she just parked her car in the airport’s long-term parking lot, but today she nodded. She was going to be gone at least a week, maybe more, and she didn’t want to leave her car in the lot for that long.
“I’ll go grab your stuff.” Ísa picked up Nayna’s keys. “And I’ll move the car to your parents’ place tomorrow.”
Staggering into the bathroom, Nayna turned the shower to as hot as she could handle, then stepped in. It was halfway through, as the heat burned away the last of the alcohol fumes that she began to remember. Eyes huge, she slid open the shower door, and yelled out, “Did I call Raj last night and tell him I wanted to lick his abs? And that I was going to have sex dreams about him?”
Given the hysterical laughter that came from the direction of Ísa’s kitchen area, the answer was a resounding yes. Dear God. Ducking back into the shower as her face flamed, Nayna quickly finished washing up. Ísa had thrown in her overnight bag in the interim, so after stepping out of the shower and drying off, she brushed her teeth using the toothbrush she’d bought yesterday. Technically, she thought, overnight bag wasn’t the right term.
It was more a “running away from home” bag.
After slapping on some moisturizer from the hastily assembled bag of toiletries, she put away the bottle, then dug through to find clothes. Panties, bra, jeans, T-shirt, socks, and she was done. She stuffed her heels in one corner of the bag.
Taking it to near the front door, she saw Ísa had found her trainers. She left the bag beside the shoes, brought over her laptop bag and purse from where she’d left them in the lounge the previous night, then joined Ísa at the breakfast counter. Her friend pushed a bowl of porridge toward her. Made Aji’s way. And with brown sugar on top. “You’re the best,” she told her friend. “My abused stomach thanks you.”
When her phone beeped, she figured it must be a text from her mother reminding her of her second cousin’s son’s fourth birthday party—which she was supposed to attend tonight. If she hadn’t intended to run away, she’d most definitely have worked late. She loved children, but that four-year-old was a horror. Last time Nayna had been around him, he’d purposefully spit orange juice on her dress while his mother looked on indulgently.
However, it wasn’t Shilpa Sharma who’d messaged her. The name on the screen was Raj and the attached image was of his abs with the caption: Ready to be licked.
Groaning, she dropped her head to the counter and banged it twice while Ísa grabbed her phone—and began to laugh so hard she nearly fell off her stool.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” Nayna said. “Isn’t that in the friend code?”
“I was drunk,” Ísa pointed out, gray-green eyes dancing. “And man, he does have nice abs!”
“You can lick your gardener’s abs. Gimme back mine.” She’d swiped the phone into her hand before she realized what she’d said.
Mine.
“Hey,” she blurted out in an attempt to distract herself and her clever best friend, “you never told me about cactus love.”
“Eat your porridge.” Ísa shoved a big spoonful into her own mouth.
Nayna didn’t think she was hungry, but she got to the bottom of her bowl. After which she drank a huge cup of black coffee, and then the two of them rushed out the door. Thankfully traffic was light this early in the morning, and Ísa was able to drop her off right in front of the domestic terminal.
Nayna gave her friend a quick hug, grabbed her bag, and said, “Remember, cone of silence.” She intended to text both her family and Raj just as she was about to board, let them know she was fine and that she was taking off for a few days. Nayna would never leave them to fear for her safety—she’d experienced that awful sensation herself when Madhuri left; to inflict it on another human being was beyond her.
