Page 49
“Do you want an honest answer to that question?”
Biting my lip, I turned my face toward the ground and stared at the greyish, static blob that consumed most of my vision. “No.”
“Okay, then I think you’re doing amazing, sweetie.”
I lifted my head and smiled. “I know that meme.”
“Cool story, grandpa—”
His words were cut off when I lost the war with myself and yanked him so close our noses touched. His breath came out in a sharp rush, and then his arms wound around my waist. His fingers dug into my skin, and he rocked his hips toward me with the softest moan.
Dropping my head, I pushed my face into the crook of his neck, and I breathed in the scent of him and let my nose trace the familiar shape.
“We should stop,” I whispered. “My family’s going to get ideas.”
“So let them get an idea. I mean, we fucked already. It’s not a lie.”
I swallowed thickly. “Yeah. I guess.”
“And they’re fucking assholes for thinking you couldn’t pull anyone you felt like pulling.”
I bit my lower lip. “I know for a fact that’s not true. But it’s sweet.”
Aravind skated a touch up my spine, and I fought the urge to kiss him. “Do you seriously have to stay here though?”
“I’m hoping to find a place tomorrow. They have me rooming with my teenage nephew.”
“Oh, good. So neither one of you gets any privacy. And you have nowhere to jerk off to the memory of me stuffing my panties into your mouth.”
“Christ,” I gasped. Then I felt him tip his head up and thought, Fuck it.
And I kissed him.
Aravind groaned, threading fingers into my hair and tugging until I was rock hard and ready to throw him on the ground and rut against his lithe, gorgeous body until I came.
But I had a feeling my sister-in-law would definitely call the cops if I did that.
“Stay with me,” Aravind whispered.
Those three words ripped me out of my head, and I pulled back. “What?”
“Stay with me. I have a place. It’s like ten minutes from here, so you can come back for…I don’t know, whatever Canadian white people do on family vacations. BBQ spiceless vegetables to serve with too much mayo and fries covered in gravy? Sing kumbaya by the fire—”
“Shut up,” I growled and kissed him again.
He laughed against my lips, but the sound died off after a second. “I’m serious. My place really is just down the road.”
I took a breath. “Aravind…” He tensed the way he always did when I said his name, and I wondered if I was fucking it up that badly. “I don’t want to encroach on your family vacation.”
He snorted and laid his cheek on my shoulder. The position was so comfortable, so intimate, I didn’t know what to do with it. “First of all, I’m alone. My aunties aren’t coming in until Wednesday, and my dad’s busy dealing with end-of-season NHL coaching shit he has to wrap up. Second, if they were here, they wouldn’t care. My aunties would be over the moon at having another person at the house to fuss over and feed. And my dad fucking loves you.”
I liked his dad. A lot. Rohan was one of the best coaches I’d ever met.
But it was hard for me to say yes. I was used to giving pieces of myself to other people for their comfort. Not the other way around.
“I have an idea,” Aravind said before I could answer. “You come stay with me for—however long you want, I don’t care. And I’ll come with you to your family stuff.”
“Oh.” That sent something like fear skittering up my spine. “I don’t know.”
