Page 24 of Driven By Desire
S pooned against six feet of gorgeous, muscled male, Max figured it was okay if she didn’t move for the next eternity or so.
Until her stomach growled. Loudly and quite definitively.
The rumble of laughter that reverberated through her ridiculously relaxed body made her want to stretch and purr like a cat.
Except her stomach gave a louder rumble.
It seemed to think it was a competition.
Wanting to be mortified but unable to dredge up enough energy to care, she turned to face him.
Eyes lit with amusement, he slowly stroked a hand down her rib cage. “You’re hungry.”
“Really?” Propping herself up on one arm, she gasped, “How did you know?”
“Cheeky brat.” Chuckling, he dipped his head to capture those smiling lips.
Sinking into the kiss, he left her breathless before turning to get out of bed.
Gloriously naked. Stretching, he bent to pick up his jeans from where it was discarded in all the excitement only to have his butt soundly pinched.
“Ouch. What the hell?” Rubbing the smarting portion, he turned to gape at a smug, smirking Max.
“Was just trying to convince myself that all this was real and not a dream.”
“I think,” pointedly continuing to rub his ass, he said, “you’re supposed to pinch yourself.”
“But yours is so much more tempting.” Scooting over, she placed a loud, smacking kiss on the portion he still had an embarrassed hand over and strode across to the cupboard behind him.
Grabbing a robe, Max shrugged into it before tossing a beaming smile at a still bemused Krish and leaving the room.
“What do you want for dinner?” Her voice floated back to him and had him pulling on the jeans he was still clutching protectively against himself. Following her in, he found her rummaging through the fridge.
“You’re going to cook?”
“God, no.” Straightening triumphantly with a microwave bowl in her hands, Max turned and promptly lost her trend of thought. In jeans that were zipped and not buttoned and nothing else, he made gorgeous look mundane.
Quite unable to help herself, she walked over and stood on tip toe to reach those delicious lips.
Drawing him into a kiss that was both tender and urgent, all at the same time, Max forgot all about dinner and moved straight through to dessert.
Forgetting all about the dish she still held, she reached up to wind her arms around him only to conk him on the head.
“Ow! Shit. Max!!!”
The aggrieved tone had her wisely swallowing her giggle and checking solicitously for a bump. She tried for contrite but only managed a wobbly ‘sorry’ that had him looking at her suspiciously.
“Do you like stew?” she asked, brightly.
“Your dad’s stew.” At her nod, he sent up a fervent prayer of thanks. Mr. Sheridan’s stew was definitely worth a bump on the head. “Let’s eat.”
Nuking it in the microwave, Max popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster.
Ladling the stew into bowls, Max carried them to the table as Krish retrieved the toast. Settling in, they ate in companionable silence.
When she was scraping the bottom of her bowl, Max cleared her throat.
When Krish looked over at her enquiringly, she said, “I’m sorry about using language in front of Pooja.
It slipped out in the heat of the moment but that’s not an excuse.
I promise not to do it again or at least I promise to try to not do it again. ”
Swallowing the last of his stew, Krish got up to clear the table. “Sit,” he ordered, when Max made to rise. Running water in the sink, he started to wash the dishes. “A few years back, we attended a family wedding. Pooja was about six then, I think.”
Surprised at the tangent the conversation was taking but not wanting to interrupt, Max settled back in her chair to listen.
“It was one of the first formal events we were attending since we’d sort of found our feet and I was determined we’d make a good impression.
No one, and I mean no one, was going to say look at what happened to those kids after their parents passed away.
So, the three of us got dressed in our silk kurtas and we got Pooja into one of those adorable little ghaghra cholis.
She looked like a doll. Chirag and I even bought bangles and bindis to complete the outfit.
Anyway, we arrived at the wedding with our gift and our little platoon of Mehras and were immediately swamped with well-meaning uncles and nosy aunties.
We did good that evening. Everyone was on their best behavior and we made it all the way to dessert without one snide remark or whispered aside aimed our way. ”
Max felt something move inside her at the soft smile on his lips as he shook his head at the memory. She loved it when he smiled.
“We were sitting in a circle and chatting with some of our relatives while simultaneously trying to stop Adi from emptying out the buffet counter when one of the uncles coaxed Pooja into dancing with him to the blaring Punjabi music assaulting us. It was adorable. She came up to his knees and had absolutely no rhythm in her body but she was having a blast. The rest of us were proudly clapping, hooting and generally cheering her on until the music cut off abruptly. In the sudden silence that followed, one tiny little voice piped up. ‘Oh fuck.’ That’s it. Just ‘Oh fuck.”
Max’s rich, uninhibited laughter spilled through the cosy kitchen and had him grinning at the memory.
Drying the bowls, he sat them aside and turned.
“You know I never knew what people meant when they said deafening silence until that moment. Even Adi abandoned his gulab jamuns as we grabbed Pooja and ran from the accusing glares and disapproving frowns. Definitely wasn’t the impression we wanted to make! ”
Coming to sit in front of her, he grabbed those smooth, bare legs and pulled them into his lap.
Massaging her feet with slow, sure caresses, he murmured, “We’ve all made our share of mistakes, Max, and I’m sure we’ll make them again.
All we can do is try not to.” Leaning forward to kiss one perfect little toe, he said, “That’s why I said you don’t have to apologize. It’s not what I came for.”
Melting all over again, Max pulled her feet out of his sinfully tempting grasp and moved over to slide into his lap. Resting his head against the soft comfort of her breasts, he murmured, “I should go. I don’t want to be caught doing the walk of shame in the morning.”
Running a hand through his hair, Max tugged his head up for one last, luscious kiss. Moaning softly, when he angled his head and deepened the kiss, she let him take control and sank into it. Cupping her cheek, Krish slowly gentled and softened the kiss until they broke apart reluctantly.
“I’ll see you soon.”
“In a few hours.” She watched as he dressed and made his way to the door. Yanking it open, he reached for a goodbye kiss. Hands tunneling through her hair, he plundered her mouth with a passion that left her in no doubt of how much she was wanted.
“Miss me?” The soft whisper had him nuzzling his cheek against hers.
“Every second that I don’t have you in my arms.” Stepping away, he stayed true to form by ending the evening with, “Go in and lock up carefully. I’ll wait till I see the light in your bedroom go on before leaving.”
Grinning at the practical and very-Krish order, she blew him a kiss and shut the door. She couldn’t wait to see what the coming days had in store for them.
---***---
Whistling, Max shouldered her tool bag and walked up the drive.
She felt loose, limber and positively jazzed.
Mentally running through her list of things to be done that day, she pressed the door bell and waited.
It didn’t take long for Adi to pull the door open.
Except instead of letting her in, he stepped out and shut the door behind him.
Casting furtive glances around, he leaned in to whisper, “You have to help me.”
Bemused, she took in the faded, ripped jeans and black hooded sweatshirt. Hood up and eyes covered by wraparound sunglasses, the boy band wannabe seemed to be changing allegiance to the rap camp.
“Well, I’m not going to help you bury a body but otherwise-“
“If you don’t help me, my body is the one you’ll have to bury.” He hissed in response.
“You’re wasting your time doing an MBA. You should be in theatre.” Taking pity on the increasingly frantic would-be hoodlum in front of her, she asked, “What exactly do you need help with?”
“Making my hair black again. Get the colour out!”
Max winced. “You got the permanent kind. The best thing to do would be to wait for it to grow out.”
“I can’t wait for it to grow out!” He moaned desperately. “I need it gone right now.”
“Okay. Then you have two options.”
Hope brightened those gorgeous eyes that all three brothers shared. “I do?”
“You can either colour it black again. Although I wouldn’t advise that. Colouring your hair twice so close to each session might end up doing so much damage your hair might fall out.”
“The other option?”
Feeling like the wicked witch of the west, Max said, “You only got the tips colored blonde. You can get them to cut it off.”
Adi gave her a horrified stare. “I have really short hair.”
“I realize that.”
“I’ll practically have to shave my head!” The anguished moan had her patting his shoulder sympathetically.
“Let me talk to your brother. Maybe I can convince him to-”
“It’s not Bhai,” he cut in morosely. “He hasn’t said a word since yesterday. There’s this girl-“
The door behind him opened on that note and Krish stepped out followed closely by Chirag and Pooja in her school uniform.
Relieved to note that Pooja’s hair looked more or less normal except for the fact that it hung in damp rat’s tails around her face, Max watched as Chirag in track pants and a ratty t-shirt shouldered Pooja’s school bag and herded her across the threshold.
Which left Krish in his perfectly tailored navy blue suit, pristine cream shirt and a deep purple tie flawlessly knotted.
Hair combed back from his face, dark glasses in place and laptop bag in hand, he looked nothing like the man who’d made her moan the previous night.
He gave new meaning to the phrase ‘not a hair out of place.’ She had a sudden urge to shift closer to Chirag so her overalls and sneakers didn’t look quite that out of place.
Smiling absently, she accepted Chirag’s one-armed embrace and crouched down to hug Pooja more closely. Acutely conscious of the silent suited figure standing by the door, she listened to Pooja chatter about her upcoming annual day rehearsal.
Finally, Chirag broke in, “Let’s go brat or we’ll be late for school.
” With one last whispered confidence, Pooja walked down the drive with Chirag who waved goodbye.
Shuffling his feet, Adi sneaked a couple of looks at his oldest brother who was still standing like an immovable block of granite on the first step.
“I should go,” he muttered finally.
“Where?” The word whipped out and had both Adi and Max jumping.
“To shave my head.” With that mournful answer, Adi disappeared down the drive leaving Krish and Max standing in uncomfortable silence. Not knowing what to make of the stranger she was left with, Max made to walk past him and into the shadowed hallway he was blocking.
She barely made it a few steps before she found herself yanked into a hot, hard embrace.
Back against the wall, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life as he took her mouth in a kiss that left her embarrassingly weak kneed.
Wet, deep and luscious, it took her a minute to realize the tiny mewling sounds were coming from her.
Finally coming up for air, Krish lowered his forehead to hers and fought for control.
Fisting her own hands in his hair, Max sagged against his bracing hands.
Someone had cut off her legs and replaced them with noodles.
“I have to go.” His breath wheezed out of him like an asthmatic in the midst of a full blown attack. With one last taste of those sinfully decadent lips, he stepped back.
Continuing to use the wall for support, Max nodded dazedly. A vague sense of something being not quite right assailed her. Unable to put her finger on it, Max straightened and ordered her legs to behave.
Grabbing his bag, Krish pulled out a key and handed it to her. “You don’t have to ring the doorbell anymore.”
Staring at the key he’d dropped in her hand, Max suddenly realized exactly what was bothering her. “Are you going to tell your family?”
“About what?”
The joy and anticipation that had lit her from inside all morning shriveled up at the matter of fact question. Stiffening her spine, she kept her voice determinedly casual. “About why I have a key to your house?”
Busy looking into the mirror in the hallway and settling his mussed hair, Krish missed the edge in her voice. “You’re here every day on work. You should have a key so you’re not dependent on one of us being here to let you in.”
Work. Yes, of course. Closing her hand around the key, she let the metal dig into her palm. The sharp pain had the fog of arousal dissipating and leaving her clear eyed in more ways than one. Pride had her biting her tongue and picking up the tool box she’d dropped when he’d grabbed her earlier.
“I’m going to get started now.”
Having decided he was presentable for work, Krish turned from the mirror. “Let’s go out to dinner tonight? Can I pick you up by about 9?”
“I have plans with friends tonight.” Leveling a cool look at him that didn’t even hint at the roiling emotions inside her, she murmured, “Maybe some other time.”
“Tomorrow?” The faintly puzzled question had her temper flaring. The stupid oaf didn’t have a clue that he’d hurt her.
“I’ll let you know if I’m free.” Shutting the back door firmly in his face she left to focus on the one thing that had never let her down. Work.