Krishna to come and do the dishes later,’ he said, lowering his head and kissing the nape of her neck very, very gently.
She could feel his breath ruffling her hair, and she firmly repressed an urge to drop the dishes and turn into his arms. ‘You exploit Krishna.’
‘Hmm...actually, on second thoughts, maybe I don’t want him hanging around after all.’
His hands had moved from her arms to her waist. She just needed to lean back a little to be pressed up against his long, hard body...
‘Maybe I’ll help you do the dishes,’ he was saying now. ‘Then we can...umm...do other things.’
‘Play Scrabble?’ Shweta asked sweetly, and turned the kitchen tap on.
Oops—bad move. In her agitation she’d turned it too far, and a Niagara of water came gushing out. It splashed over the dishes, almost completely soaking the front of her black top. Nikhil leaned over her and turned the tap to a more reasonable setting. Taking her hands, he started rinsing the soap off. He did it very carefully and slowly, holding each hand under the water and running his own hands over it in a slow and sensuous movement that had her squirming against him in no time. Then, without releasing her, he reached out for a towel, and started drying her arms—still very, very, slowly. When that was done he turned her around to face him.
‘You’re completely...wet,’ he said.
There was absolutely nothing suggestive about his tone, but Shweta shivered as he took the hem of her top and gently drew it upwards. She was wearing a T-shirt under it, and was still perfectly well covered when he got the top off and tossed it into a corner of the kitchen—she felt bare, though, when his warm gaze roamed over her body.
‘Come to bed with me?’ he asked softly.
For a few seconds Shweta’s traditional upbringing reared its head, and she almost panicked and said no—but this was Nikhil. She’d known him all her life. She trusted him. Looking into his warm brown eyes, for the first time she began to think that she was probably in love with him, and with that realisation her last doubts fell away.
‘Yes,’ she said, and she sounded confident and very sure of what she wanted.
In the next second she was in Nikhil’s arms. He held her very close for a few seconds, and then he swung her up into his arms and carried her to the nearest bedroom.
* * *
‘I’m hungry,’ Shweta announced, propping herself onto one arm and lazily trailing a finger down Nikhil’s hair-roughened chest.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and the last few hours had been the best hours of her life. Far more experienced than her, Nikhil had been very gentle at first, careful not to alarm her. But, finding her eager and willing, he’d finally abandoned all restraint. Shweta’s lips curved into a smile as she remembered quite how good it had been.
‘Hungry, are you?’ Nikhil frowned at her. ‘Are you likely to turn cannibal? Should I be worried?’
Shweta laughed, and leaned down to nip at his lower lip lovingly. ‘Mmm, that’s a thought,’ she said. ‘You taste pretty good, actually...’
‘I’ll get up and cook lunch for you,’ Nikhil said, sitting up in mock-haste and taking her with him. ‘Just think—you might want to do this again some day, and if you eat me up you’ll have to find a new man. He might not be quite as nice as me.’
Shweta pretended to think.
‘I cook quite well,’ Nikhil said as added inducement. ‘And I’m house-trained—you won’t regret it.’
‘Can you do rice and noodles? With mushrooms?’
‘Yes, ma’am, of course I can.’ Nikhil paused to drop a row of little kisses on her shoulder, but raised his head as she spoke. ‘And you can have chilli chicken with it, if you like. And ice cream. But I didn’t make that—it’s already in the freezer.’
‘The ice cream is the clincher,’ Shweta said. ‘I’ll allow you to live.’
Nikhil gave a mock sigh of relief and tried to get out of bed—Shweta pulled him
She could feel his breath ruffling her hair, and she firmly repressed an urge to drop the dishes and turn into his arms. ‘You exploit Krishna.’
‘Hmm...actually, on second thoughts, maybe I don’t want him hanging around after all.’
His hands had moved from her arms to her waist. She just needed to lean back a little to be pressed up against his long, hard body...
‘Maybe I’ll help you do the dishes,’ he was saying now. ‘Then we can...umm...do other things.’
‘Play Scrabble?’ Shweta asked sweetly, and turned the kitchen tap on.
Oops—bad move. In her agitation she’d turned it too far, and a Niagara of water came gushing out. It splashed over the dishes, almost completely soaking the front of her black top. Nikhil leaned over her and turned the tap to a more reasonable setting. Taking her hands, he started rinsing the soap off. He did it very carefully and slowly, holding each hand under the water and running his own hands over it in a slow and sensuous movement that had her squirming against him in no time. Then, without releasing her, he reached out for a towel, and started drying her arms—still very, very, slowly. When that was done he turned her around to face him.
‘You’re completely...wet,’ he said.
There was absolutely nothing suggestive about his tone, but Shweta shivered as he took the hem of her top and gently drew it upwards. She was wearing a T-shirt under it, and was still perfectly well covered when he got the top off and tossed it into a corner of the kitchen—she felt bare, though, when his warm gaze roamed over her body.
‘Come to bed with me?’ he asked softly.
For a few seconds Shweta’s traditional upbringing reared its head, and she almost panicked and said no—but this was Nikhil. She’d known him all her life. She trusted him. Looking into his warm brown eyes, for the first time she began to think that she was probably in love with him, and with that realisation her last doubts fell away.
‘Yes,’ she said, and she sounded confident and very sure of what she wanted.
In the next second she was in Nikhil’s arms. He held her very close for a few seconds, and then he swung her up into his arms and carried her to the nearest bedroom.
* * *
‘I’m hungry,’ Shweta announced, propping herself onto one arm and lazily trailing a finger down Nikhil’s hair-roughened chest.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and the last few hours had been the best hours of her life. Far more experienced than her, Nikhil had been very gentle at first, careful not to alarm her. But, finding her eager and willing, he’d finally abandoned all restraint. Shweta’s lips curved into a smile as she remembered quite how good it had been.
‘Hungry, are you?’ Nikhil frowned at her. ‘Are you likely to turn cannibal? Should I be worried?’
Shweta laughed, and leaned down to nip at his lower lip lovingly. ‘Mmm, that’s a thought,’ she said. ‘You taste pretty good, actually...’
‘I’ll get up and cook lunch for you,’ Nikhil said, sitting up in mock-haste and taking her with him. ‘Just think—you might want to do this again some day, and if you eat me up you’ll have to find a new man. He might not be quite as nice as me.’
Shweta pretended to think.
‘I cook quite well,’ Nikhil said as added inducement. ‘And I’m house-trained—you won’t regret it.’
‘Can you do rice and noodles? With mushrooms?’
‘Yes, ma’am, of course I can.’ Nikhil paused to drop a row of little kisses on her shoulder, but raised his head as she spoke. ‘And you can have chilli chicken with it, if you like. And ice cream. But I didn’t make that—it’s already in the freezer.’
‘The ice cream is the clincher,’ Shweta said. ‘I’ll allow you to live.’
Nikhil gave a mock sigh of relief and tried to get out of bed—Shweta pulled him
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