Page 107 of Drunk On Love

“Oh, holyGod of All Divinity! Do. Not. Lose. This. Man. Girl, I swear if you mess this up, I’ll kill you, and no one will find your body for centuries.”

“He’s not mine to keep, Myra. We’re just… pretending, remember?”

“Were you pretending the orgasm, too?”

“No… those wereveryreal.”

“Good,” She exclaimed. “What did Mr. Billionaire Chef slash Greek God do now? And please, spare no details.”

I groaned, tossing myself back onto the bed. “Myra, I am not discussing my personal life with you.”

“Oh, youare,” she said firmly. “Because if you don’t, I’ll assume the worst—like he cooked you a subpar breakfast or forgot to kiss you goodbye.”

“Actually,” I said, holding up the note and staring at it fondly, “he left me breakfast in the oven and wrote me a note.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Hewhat? Oh my God. This man is out here ruining the standard for men everywhere. Are you sure he’s real and not, like, an AI simulation sent to make you believe in love again?”

I laughed. “He’s very real.”

“You’re in love, aren’t you?”

I sighed. “Myra… I’m leaving for France in a few days.”

“I know. But I also know you love him. So, figure something out before I break your neck.”

“You’re insane. Manav’s not the type of guy who wants relationships.”

“Do. Not. Screw. This. Up. Kiara Randhawa. I’m serious.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but the door suddenly swung open. In three long strides, Manav was at the bed. He was wearing a dark blue perfectly tailored suit. Without a word, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me toward the bathroom. My phone tumbled onto the mattress as I let out a startled squeal.

“Manav!” I protested, my voice echoing off the tiled walls.

He didn’t answer, just smirked down at me as he turned on the shower.

I gasped as the warm water hit my skin, jolting me fully awake. He placed me under the spray like I was fragile. His hands never left my waist.

“Kiara,” he murmured, lips brushing mine, “you drive me insane.”

I could barely breathe. His fingers found all the right places, coaxing sounds from me that echoed off the tiles. I clung to his shoulders, barely upright.

“First time I’ve ever left a billion-dollar meeting halfway,” he murmured.

“Oh, and now what happens to the homeless zombies?”

He chuckled low. “You better hope Kartik doesn’t barge in. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You,” I panted, “are going to be the death of me.”

“No,” he whispered against my jaw, “I’m going to be your life.”

“I’m leaving in a few days. After Dadi’s birthday—”

But he didn’t let me finish. His lips crashed onto mine, silencing any thought of leaving. And then his fingers began their teasing again, pulling another moan from my lips. My my body reacted before I could think, arching into his touch as I lost all sense of control. He turned the shower on fully, the water mixing with the heat of our bodies, and just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, he brought me to the edge again.

He groaned against my neck, his hands gripping me tighter as he reached his own release, his entire body tensing before he let out a low, guttural sound that made my head spin.

We stayed there for a moment, pressed together under the spray of water, both of us trying to catch our breaths. His forehead rested against mine, his hands still holding me as if I might disappear if he let go.