Rebel Hard
Page 41
“It doesn’t bore you?” he asked.
“Are you kidding?” Nayna smoothed her hand over his pecs. “I failed woodworking class in intermediate school. My custom jewelry box fell apart.” Laughter in her words. “I’m in awe of your ability to build things from the ground up.”
Running his hand over her hair, Raj said, “Do you enjoy your work?” It was something he hadn’t thought to ask until she’d yelled about who she’d have become without Madhuri’s shadow over her life.
“I’m an accounting nerd,” she said. “I like it. But… the firm mostly has established clients. I’d love to work with a start-up of some kind, help build it, you know?” She sat up in his lap, her eyes shining. “It would be a risk, with no guarantees, but the idea of being part of the genesis and growth of a company, that excites me.”
Raj thought of his parents’ words the night of the introduction, how Nayna could work for the family business. That wasn’t going to happen. Theirs was a strong, stable company, but the accounting work was steady and nothing exciting. Great for them, but stultifying for an intelligent woman who wanted to make her mark.
“Have you investigated possibilities already?” he asked, considering who he knew that might be able to offer her information that could help.
Shaking her head, she leaned one arm on his shoulder. “My parents would’ve flipped,” she murmured with a lopsided smile. “Giving up a good paycheck for uncertainty.” Dropping her voice into deeper tones, she said, “We bring you up right, we give you room to study, and this is how you thank us? By throwing away a good job for this rubbish-schwubbish start-up that pays you in peanuts?”
Raj chuckled at her impression of her father. “What else do you dream of?”
“Hiking in the Amazon, climbing the Great Wall of China, spending a night in the Sahara Desert.” Laughter spilled out of her. “I want to taste the entire world, Raj!”
A sense of unease fought to settle in Raj’s gut, but he nudged it out of his consciousness.
Spotting a strand of hair sticking to her cheek, he pulled it gently away—and Nayna leaned in to nuzzle her nose against his. Her kiss was tender and unexpected, the way she cradled his face in her hands the sweetest touch. Sinking into the armchair, he wrapped her up in his arms and surrendered.
Slow, soft kisses on his mouth, across the heavy dark of his stubble, down along his neck.
“Nayna,” he groaned, fisting one hand in her hair.
She slid her hands under his T-shirt, pushed up.
Needing her skin-to-skin with him, he helped her strip him of the cotton, then did the same to her. She was still wearing the pale peach bra that was both an invitation and a seduction. But when he would’ve bent his mouth to her, she pushed him back. “It’s my turn,” she murmured… and put her mouth on his skin.
Raj had fantasized plenty during his celibate years. He was a traditional man who’d chosen to wait, not a monk who’d given up the idea of sex altogether. But not once had he dreamed about a woman kissing his chest with utter attention to detail, as if she didn’t want to miss an inch.
A flick of her tongue over his nipple.
Raj shuddered and wove his fingers into Nayna’s hair again. Then he let her do as she pleased. Because having Nayna adore him like this… Yeah, he could live with it. When she tugged away her head, he thought she wanted to stop, but she simply wanted to change position. To a kneeling one between his legs.
The better to reach his abs.
Dropping back his head, Raj didn’t look as she tasted him with small flicks and licks. If he did, he would probably lose it again. Because while Nayna was absorbed in his abdomen, she was also very close to his cock. And that part of his body didn’t understand patience. Not after so many years of being deprived.
If he wasn’t careful, he’d come in his pants like a hormone-crazed teenager.
* * *
Nayna flicked up her lashes and saw that Raj’s head was thrown back, his jaw tightly clenched. The hand he’d thrust back in her hair was fisted, and every so often, he’d tug. She had the feeling it wasn’t on purpose, more an involuntary action when she hit a sensitive spot.
Every part of her hummed at seeing him like this, so utterly open to her. The way he’d held her, the way he’d kept her protectively close when they walked back, the fact he’d been ready to fight for her even when she’d tried to be silly and give him up… All she wanted to do was show him what he was to her.
Words worked. But for them, so did the physical.
Touches, kisses, caresses, they were two people between whom it could never be casual.
She ran her tongue all the way along one side of the vee.
“Fuck.” It was gritted out, his thighs rigid on either side of her.
Her own pulse throbbing in her neck, she took advantage of his closed eyes to look down at the part of his body so very close to her cheek, the denim of his jeans fighting to contain it. And maybe because he wasn’t watching, or maybe because they were starting to become each other’s on a level beyond anything she’d experienced with another human being, she closed her hand over him.
The cry he let out this time was more of a roar, the hand in her hair pulling almost painfully tight for a second before he let go and grabbed at the arms of the chair. “Nayna.” A rasp. “I think we should move to the bed.”
Emboldened by his response, her entire self full of a raw emotion that had no name, Nayna glanced up and held his gaze. “No.” She tightened her hold a fraction and heard his breath catch. “I’m not sure I’m ready to have this large object inside me again.” Her cheeks burned hot, but she didn’t look away. “I want to play with it though.”
Raj shoved both hands through his hair. “I’m dead. You’re looking at a dead man.”
Her shoulders shook and she knew—it would only ever be like this with Raj. Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to the spot on his navel where the furred trail disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. His hand came back to her head, this time to curl around her nape. And his cock, it twitched under her touch.
Catching her lower lip with her teeth, Nayna undid the button on his jeans and took extreme care while lowering the zipper. He was wearing black boxer briefs, but releasing his cock from those wasn’t in any way difficult—the smooth, hard length was already attempting to escape.
When Nayna closed her fingers gently around him, he went so motionless that she thought he must’ve stopped breathing. Glancing up, she saw veins popping out on his arms, sweat dampening his chest… but his eyes were open.
Watching, as he liked to do.
Blush or not, Nayna held the dilated darkness of his eyes and decided to have one more lick. This time, it wasn’t of his abs.
30
True Love Hurts
Raj sat across from Nayna at one of the outdoor tables of a bustling restaurant. The two of them had ventured out when hunger struck. Nayna wore her lightweight jacket, and Raj had thrown on the hoodie he’d packed, but otherwise they were in jeans and T-shirts. The people around them were a wild mix—some dressed as casually as Nayna and Raj, others wearing formal black dresses or crisp shirts.
The staff served everyone with equal cheer under the orange-gold evening sunlight.
“Does this count as a date?” Nayna asked after they’d ordered, her chin propped up on her hands. “I’ve never been on a date.”
“Are you kidding?” Nayna smoothed her hand over his pecs. “I failed woodworking class in intermediate school. My custom jewelry box fell apart.” Laughter in her words. “I’m in awe of your ability to build things from the ground up.”
Running his hand over her hair, Raj said, “Do you enjoy your work?” It was something he hadn’t thought to ask until she’d yelled about who she’d have become without Madhuri’s shadow over her life.
“I’m an accounting nerd,” she said. “I like it. But… the firm mostly has established clients. I’d love to work with a start-up of some kind, help build it, you know?” She sat up in his lap, her eyes shining. “It would be a risk, with no guarantees, but the idea of being part of the genesis and growth of a company, that excites me.”
Raj thought of his parents’ words the night of the introduction, how Nayna could work for the family business. That wasn’t going to happen. Theirs was a strong, stable company, but the accounting work was steady and nothing exciting. Great for them, but stultifying for an intelligent woman who wanted to make her mark.
“Have you investigated possibilities already?” he asked, considering who he knew that might be able to offer her information that could help.
Shaking her head, she leaned one arm on his shoulder. “My parents would’ve flipped,” she murmured with a lopsided smile. “Giving up a good paycheck for uncertainty.” Dropping her voice into deeper tones, she said, “We bring you up right, we give you room to study, and this is how you thank us? By throwing away a good job for this rubbish-schwubbish start-up that pays you in peanuts?”
Raj chuckled at her impression of her father. “What else do you dream of?”
“Hiking in the Amazon, climbing the Great Wall of China, spending a night in the Sahara Desert.” Laughter spilled out of her. “I want to taste the entire world, Raj!”
A sense of unease fought to settle in Raj’s gut, but he nudged it out of his consciousness.
Spotting a strand of hair sticking to her cheek, he pulled it gently away—and Nayna leaned in to nuzzle her nose against his. Her kiss was tender and unexpected, the way she cradled his face in her hands the sweetest touch. Sinking into the armchair, he wrapped her up in his arms and surrendered.
Slow, soft kisses on his mouth, across the heavy dark of his stubble, down along his neck.
“Nayna,” he groaned, fisting one hand in her hair.
She slid her hands under his T-shirt, pushed up.
Needing her skin-to-skin with him, he helped her strip him of the cotton, then did the same to her. She was still wearing the pale peach bra that was both an invitation and a seduction. But when he would’ve bent his mouth to her, she pushed him back. “It’s my turn,” she murmured… and put her mouth on his skin.
Raj had fantasized plenty during his celibate years. He was a traditional man who’d chosen to wait, not a monk who’d given up the idea of sex altogether. But not once had he dreamed about a woman kissing his chest with utter attention to detail, as if she didn’t want to miss an inch.
A flick of her tongue over his nipple.
Raj shuddered and wove his fingers into Nayna’s hair again. Then he let her do as she pleased. Because having Nayna adore him like this… Yeah, he could live with it. When she tugged away her head, he thought she wanted to stop, but she simply wanted to change position. To a kneeling one between his legs.
The better to reach his abs.
Dropping back his head, Raj didn’t look as she tasted him with small flicks and licks. If he did, he would probably lose it again. Because while Nayna was absorbed in his abdomen, she was also very close to his cock. And that part of his body didn’t understand patience. Not after so many years of being deprived.
If he wasn’t careful, he’d come in his pants like a hormone-crazed teenager.
* * *
Nayna flicked up her lashes and saw that Raj’s head was thrown back, his jaw tightly clenched. The hand he’d thrust back in her hair was fisted, and every so often, he’d tug. She had the feeling it wasn’t on purpose, more an involuntary action when she hit a sensitive spot.
Every part of her hummed at seeing him like this, so utterly open to her. The way he’d held her, the way he’d kept her protectively close when they walked back, the fact he’d been ready to fight for her even when she’d tried to be silly and give him up… All she wanted to do was show him what he was to her.
Words worked. But for them, so did the physical.
Touches, kisses, caresses, they were two people between whom it could never be casual.
She ran her tongue all the way along one side of the vee.
“Fuck.” It was gritted out, his thighs rigid on either side of her.
Her own pulse throbbing in her neck, she took advantage of his closed eyes to look down at the part of his body so very close to her cheek, the denim of his jeans fighting to contain it. And maybe because he wasn’t watching, or maybe because they were starting to become each other’s on a level beyond anything she’d experienced with another human being, she closed her hand over him.
The cry he let out this time was more of a roar, the hand in her hair pulling almost painfully tight for a second before he let go and grabbed at the arms of the chair. “Nayna.” A rasp. “I think we should move to the bed.”
Emboldened by his response, her entire self full of a raw emotion that had no name, Nayna glanced up and held his gaze. “No.” She tightened her hold a fraction and heard his breath catch. “I’m not sure I’m ready to have this large object inside me again.” Her cheeks burned hot, but she didn’t look away. “I want to play with it though.”
Raj shoved both hands through his hair. “I’m dead. You’re looking at a dead man.”
Her shoulders shook and she knew—it would only ever be like this with Raj. Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to the spot on his navel where the furred trail disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. His hand came back to her head, this time to curl around her nape. And his cock, it twitched under her touch.
Catching her lower lip with her teeth, Nayna undid the button on his jeans and took extreme care while lowering the zipper. He was wearing black boxer briefs, but releasing his cock from those wasn’t in any way difficult—the smooth, hard length was already attempting to escape.
When Nayna closed her fingers gently around him, he went so motionless that she thought he must’ve stopped breathing. Glancing up, she saw veins popping out on his arms, sweat dampening his chest… but his eyes were open.
Watching, as he liked to do.
Blush or not, Nayna held the dilated darkness of his eyes and decided to have one more lick. This time, it wasn’t of his abs.
30
True Love Hurts
Raj sat across from Nayna at one of the outdoor tables of a bustling restaurant. The two of them had ventured out when hunger struck. Nayna wore her lightweight jacket, and Raj had thrown on the hoodie he’d packed, but otherwise they were in jeans and T-shirts. The people around them were a wild mix—some dressed as casually as Nayna and Raj, others wearing formal black dresses or crisp shirts.
The staff served everyone with equal cheer under the orange-gold evening sunlight.
“Does this count as a date?” Nayna asked after they’d ordered, her chin propped up on her hands. “I’ve never been on a date.”
