“Why?” Another slow stroke of her back. “Anticipation just makes things better.”
His chest vibrated against her as he spoke, and she shivered. Rising up to look down at him, she said, “I thought I was ready.” Frustrated and aroused and needy. But it looked like after twenty-eight years of virginity, she needed to ease into the erotic rawness of what happened when the two of them came together.
With him, she had no walls, no barriers.
Just nakedness far beyond the skin. And it terrified her.
“I’m yours whenever you’re ready,” Raj said, and the words crashed over her like the waves below, powerful and turbulent.
20
The Construction Workers’ Book Club
Raj ended up having to work the majority of the next few days, along with a couple of his guys who wanted the extra pay. That night on the cliffs with Nayna, especially the way she’d lain snuggled up against him for over an hour after they called things to a halt, it was the best Christmas gift he could’ve imagined.
He could’ve pushed her in the nights that followed, but he’d fought his aggressive instincts and given her the room she needed. She’d come close to panic with him on the cliffs, and he didn’t think it had been about sex. It was all happening too fast for her, the nameless thing that burned between them a hurricane.
“Hey, Raj!” one of his men called out. “Gazza says those are lady scratches on your back. He right?”
Raj hadn’t realized Nayna had scratched him. Grinning, he said, “No comment and keep your fucking eyes to yourself.” A construction site wasn’t exactly time for gentle language.
“Hey, Gazza, I think the boss has a girl.”
“And you’re a bunch of gossips!” Raj yelled back. “I’m paying you to hammer, not chat.”
“Hammer! Is that what they call a Freudian slip?” That was from Gazza—currently in the midst of an English literature degree for “reasons.” What reasons, he’d never verbalized.
“Gaz!” Raj yelled up. “You ever read Pride and Prejudice?”
“Yeah, for class.” The other man continued to frame an upstairs window. “That Mr. Darcy is a wanker like the entire first half—if I was that much of a wanker, I’d never get laid.”
Nodding because someone finally agreed with him, Raj whacked in another timber before saying, “And what the fuck about Wickham?”
“Dude’s a fucking fuckwit” was the concise response.
Tino, who’d started this all off, said, “You two in a book club or something?”
“A club to get girls, dickhead,” Gazza responded. “Girls like guys who read.”
“Yeah, says who?” Tino demanded.
“Look up ‘hot guys reading’ online.”
When Tino did and went, “Shiiiiiit, why didn’t you fuckers tell me this years ago!” Raj went over to take a look.
And saw countless images of men reading in public. Pictures taken by women. Who had then commented with heart emojis and words like swoon and “my panties just disappeared.”
Hmm.
That night he sent Nayna a shirtless image—of him sprawled in his bed, reading about that wanker, Mr. Darcy. He’d stolen the print book off his sister’s bookshelf for this purpose. It was worth all the work it took to get that shot when Nayna replied with: I’m dead now, Sen. I hope you’re happy.
Yes, Raj was very happy. Panic or not, she was still talking to him, still reacting to him. The door wasn’t quite shut. His butterfly hadn’t flown out of his sight.
* * *
Raj finally admitted defeat on the morning of New Year’s Eve. He’d tried everything possible, but his parents would not budge on the “casual” get-together with the Sharmas. “Shilpa and Gaurav will make such nice in-laws,” he heard his mother, Sangeeta, say to his father—the two were on the lawn, not far from Raj’s flat at the back of the property.
His sister, who was hanging out with him, raised an eyebrow, then began to sing “Here comes the bride” under her breath.
“Quiet, Monkey.” He pointed a finger at her.
Unrepentant, she stuck out her tongue. “So, are you going to marry her?”
“That’s between me and Nayna.” And it was a dream so important that he couldn’t share it with anyone until it was real, until she agreed to be his.
“Ugh. Spoilsport.” Aditi slumped back on the sofa, her mass of curly hair a halo around her head. She was as tiny as he was big, her face triangular where his was all square lines. And her brain worked completely differently too.
“You still kicking the asses of the boys in your physics class?”
“It’s my solemn duty.” Still slumped like a jellyfish, she scowled. “God, the mansplaining I got when I started this year. Just because I’m short and female.” She sat up. “I hope you never mansplain to a woman.”
Raj threw up his hands. “I’ve been schooled by you since you were four, what do you think?”
Bouncing up, she came over to hug him from behind where he sat at his drafting desk, working out a building problem. “I love you, bhaiya.” She smacked a kiss on his cheek. “I’m gonna quiz this Nayna chick. She better be good enough for you.”
His admonitions to her to keep her distance were soundly ignored. “That’s what comes of being a nice big brother,” he muttered to himself when they got to the Sharma house and Aditi attached herself to Nayna like a human limpet.
“Were you speaking to me?”
He shook his head at Madhuri. “No, sorry.” He took in her flawless makeup, her tight top that showed a little too much cleavage, her skinny jeans, and had zero reaction. Nayna, meanwhile, was wearing a loose white linen shift with three-quarter-length sleeves, and he wanted to tear it off and lick her up like candy.
“Sooo, you and my sister are serious.” A waggle of Madhuri’s eyebrows. “I’m happy for Nayna.”
He had the feeling she was sincere. He also had a feeling that Madhuri was used to being the center of attention. Even though she was happy for her sister, she kept attempting to outshine her. Not just the clothes and the makeup and the flashy earrings. The charming of his parents, the way she got Aditi away from Nayna by talking hair trends, how she took over a conversation Nayna was having with her own father.
It annoyed him.
Especially when Nayna’s entire family didn’t even seem to notice, as if the behavior was so normal that it didn’t ping on their radar. He scowled, gaining a dark new insight into Nayna’s upbringing.
What kept the fuse on his temper from igniting was that Nayna’s quiet beauty and inner warmth continued to shine despite Madhuri’s flash. Aditi floated back to Nayna, and his parents smiled huge smiles at her as she kept the evening flowing, making sure the music was just right and speaking to everyone with a natural warmth.
Everyone but him. Him, she avoided.
Raj narrowed his eyes and waited for his chance. This was New Year’s Eve, and he intended to start the coming year as he intended to end it: kissing Nayna.
* * *
Raj’s bubbly little sister chatted to Nayna while Nayna refilled a snack plate in the kitchen—and hid from Raj. She was feeling very raw at the moment, having caught sight of Madhuri and her father laughing uproariously at something earlier that afternoon. After which Gaurav Sharma had hugged his older daughter.
It was stupid, but Nayna had felt so left out, so second-best.
Never good enough.
Rebellion had stirred, slammed up against who Raj was becoming to her. If she walked away from him to prove a point to her father, she would be stupid. But the idea of falling in with her parents’ plans, of being good little Nayna, it grated.
Hence the hiding.
Torn in two directions, she’d taken the mature stance of avoidance.
Aditi, meanwhile, was being very cute, subtly grilling Nayna. She played along. Raj must be a good brother if his baby sister was so protective of him. “Your brother Navin and his wife couldn’t come?” she asked during a break in the questioning.