Page 42 of Glass Jawed
She turns to me, mock-offended. “Excuse me? If anyone here has main-character delusions, it’s you, Mr. I-Run-A-Startup.”
I smirk. “Oh, so you think I’m Michael?”
“YouareMichael. Charm, unhinged delusions, but somehow people still like you.” She squints at me. “Even when they shouldn’t.”
I raise a brow. “Are you saying you like me, Ms. Talwar?”
Her eyes glint and I feel her fingers drawing circles on my inner thigh. “I’m saying you’re tolerable.”
I chuckle but my throat is tight with lust.
She’s still watching the TV when I shift slightly, guiding her gently until she’s straddling me—slow and unhurried. Her knees settle on either side of my thighs and I feel her freeze for half a second, probably realizing what this position usually implies.
But I don’t rush her.
“Your hand on my thigh is telling me a different story, Rohi.”
Her hands lightly rest on my shoulders, unsure. Her expression flickers—open, then closed.
“I don’t...” she starts, then gives a breathy laugh, awkward. “I’m not really the straddle-your-lap-and-look-flawless type, you know.”
I frown at her statement before I tilt my head. “What does that mean?”
Her gaze flicks away. “I just mean—I know I don’t exactly have... like, the body. I’m not curvy. You’re probably getting poked by my bones on your thighs.” Her tone’s joking, but it’s tight at the edges.
I don’t understand where this is coming from but I have a sudden urge to dispel that embarrassed look from her face.
My hands slide up her back, warm and slow. One stops at the base of her spine. The other cups the back of her neck.
“Rohi,” I murmur, voice low. “You’re fucking stunning. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
She rolls her eyes like she doesn’t believe me.
So I drag my hands down, framing her waist. “You know what I see? I see this ass that fits perfectly into my hands.” I tug herjust enough for her to feel me hardening beneath her. “I see golden legs I dream about. A smile that throws me off my game.”
She looks down, flustered.
And then I kiss the corner of her mouth. Soft. Barely-there.
“And these tits?” I whisper, nudging my nose against her jaw, my one hand cupping her breast over her t-shirt. “Saw a glimpse when you were wearing that sinful dress. Thought they were perfect for my mouth.”
Her breath catches when I tug her t-shirt up. Enough for me to gain the beautiful vision of her—clad in a black bralette.
She looks at me like she’s trying to memorize my face. And in that moment—holy hell—I want to give her everything. All while I take that uncertain look from her eyes and replace it with lust.
Suddenly, she scrambles off my lap and stands. Before I can ask what’s wrong, she’s taking her clothes off.
For a moment, I’m stunned. Watching as acres of beautiful brown skin comes into view. Fuck, she’s not just hot. She’stoned. I can see a tiny outline of her abs—if she’d just flex a little.
She could be a supermodel if she was just a few inches taller.
I’m too mesmerized by her—in just a bralette and panties—that I miss the expression she’s currently wearing.
She looks...terrified. Mumbling about how I need to see her whole body before we continue.
That wouldn’t do. I know some people are shy, especially when they’re exposing themselves to a new lover. But I can’t have her be embarrassed. I want her whimpering under me.
I slowly stand up, and take a step towards her. Before shedding my own white t-shirt and sweatpants.
