Page 35 of Not In Love

She tried to talk herself out of it. But her thoughts kept circling the same dangerous look in his eyes as he recalled lurid details she barely forgot for a moment. It was as if he’d slipped a hand between her thighs right there in the kitchen and stirred the ache she’d been trying to crush.

He hadn’t pushed the memory of the night to the depths of his soul, like she had tried to.

Eyes gleaming with that devilish glint, he made it clear that he still wanted her. In response to the mere memory, her body buzzed with need. Like she needed to be grounded, and he was the only thing that could steady her.

And despite her best efforts to move on, she wanted one more kiss, one more gentling at his hands while he roughly stroked into her. A sweaty sheen broke out on her skin, and she sat up on the bed.

What did it even mean to continue this madness with him? How far could she go before it cost her more than she could afford?

Worse—what if she started to need him?

A serrated laugh broke through her lips. What was this humming under her skin, if not need?

The idea of anyone finding out—her mother, Kaif, Muriel—made her skin prickle with alarm. Even the fact that there were people in the house didn’t make a difference. Her legs fairly shook with the need to find him.

With a muffled cry, Kash threw her head back. If she went to him, it had to be with the full understanding that it was a fling. Until the wedding madness died down, until one of them put an end to it.

Until he decided he had had enough. Because he would—he was young and going places and figuring out his purpose in life again. He would want to spend his life with someone who knew how to be easy and sweet and loving, who didn’t have to be broken apart to respond and live.

A woman who hadn’t given up on love.

Whereas she couldn’t foresee a day where she wouldn’t want to be with him. He had burrowed himself deep under her skin already.

Shaking like a leaf, she pressed her palm to her chest. Her heart thumped like a traitor, telling her how much she craved his company. Not just his mouth or his hands or the way he could destroy her composure with a single look, but his voice.

His calm. His steadiness, unexpected and real.

The way she didn’t have to be strong or perfect around him, the way she didn’t have to hide her fears or her pettiness because he’d already seen it and hadn’t run away screaming.

She wasn’t going to him for sex or an orgasm or even a kiss.

She just... wanted to talk. See if he needed anything. Look after him once, instead of the other way around. Hadn’t he been asking his cousins for an extra charger earlier? And ibuprofen?

She was racking through her nightstand drawer before she realized she had slipped out of bed and put on a robe.

It wasn’t like she could fall asleep anyway.

* * *

The floorboardscreaked underfoot as Kash padded down the hallway. Faint moonlight spilled through the skylight near the kitchen. She quickly opened the door to Tia’s bedroom. Her soft snores made Kash smile.

Somewhere, a pipe groaned. Her mother’s room was quiet. Muriel’s friends were in the den.

Everything was still.

The guest room door was closed.

She knocked, her fingertips clinging to the wood. “It’s Kash. Can I come in?”

When he rumbled something close to a yes, she slipped in before she could change her mind. Or before he did.

The door opened with the faintest click.

Somewhere, the heater, or was it AC, kicked in with a hum that made her jump. Slowly, Kash closed the door behind her and pasted her back to it.

The scents hit her first.

The room smelled like him—fresh soap, faint sweat, and something warm and musky. The overhead light was off, but the standing lamp near the window cast a soft amber glow over everything. And then there was the moonlight—bright, full, flooding in from the large window directly across from where he stood.

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