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It shouldn't be like this with anyone. It's too perilous to feel so comfortable that you are not afraid of showcasing even the darkest, most unpolished, coal-pressed parts of your personality.
“Guess what?” I pull myself off the floor. “If I want to micro-tear my vagina, I’m going to micro-tear my damn vagina.”
He looks up at me, flabbergasted. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“Round of applause! The class thanks you for leading an educational seminar on my vaginal health!”
Stepping out of the way, I turn the shower on him again.
TEN
The water that sputters on Huan is anti-climatic. I don't think I hit the shower button hard enough, but I feel like hitting it twice will lose effect. A dribble splashed on his shoulder and some drops caught the side of his cheek. He looks up at me standing over him. “Does this make you feel better, Ms. Chahal?”
I'm braced to expect a disappointed tone, or exasperation, or anything laced with judgement.
No.
Huan Li is amused.
This triggers my own reaction. I look down and attempt to hide aDripping with Fun Evilsmirk. It pushes against my mouth from the inside, but I resist the urge to let it loose. This isn't fun. This is me being mad.
“You don’t have to,” he comments.
“Have to what?”
“Hide.”
“Excuse me?”
“Let go, Komal.”
He taps the corner of his own mouth. He can’t mean…He does.
I continue holding back, but encouragement plus a whiff of permission breaks me. My cheeks stretch. “Don’t pretend like you know me, Huan Li. My mind is full of pockets only I hang inside in.”
Unable to stop myself, I hit the shower button again. Water apparently lasts the span of a sneeze in this bathroom. More droplets splash on his cheek.
He wipes the side of his mouth with the back of his thumb. “If you want to do this all night, we can.”
“So desperate for a shower? I didn’t know you had such hygiene issues.”
“This is making you happy. Keep going."
How he says it—all steadfast—makes my pulse pick up.
Why do you care?is a croak in my throat. What I should say is,There isn’t a bodyguard app where I’ll rate you 5 stars, Huan. This night is not worth your effort. Stop encouraging my foolishness.
I don’t understand why he’s playing. I don’t read pity or annoyance or smugness from him. He’s unfazed and very comfortable sitting on the floor of this little hostel bathroom. There's no rushing us out of here. For some reason, he’ll allow me this irrationality with him—to him—because… because I don’t know. And, well, inside me, a distinct throb leaps up. Blame the water rolling down his jawline that drops onto a sweater, getting heavier and more moulded to his body. The muscled lines of Huan’s contours are lethal. I try not to trace them with hungry eyes.
I'm not that subtle, though. He must see me checking him out. There is a widening of his eyes and a distinct stiffening of his body.
Whatever is happening is a dangerous game. The kind that wants me to sit on his lap. To pitch the cradle of my hips againstthe seam of his pants. My gaze arrows there, too. Is that… a bulge?
Without thinking, I step forward.
Before I can get closer, a hand closes around my ankle. His palm is large, strong, and opinionated. It keeps me in place, away from him. Away from fulfilling the intentions of my robust horniness.
And now I can’t read Huan’s expression. He’s angled his face away. Andthatdenial is exactly what I need to snap out of this stupor because I was about toSit On My Bodyguard Like A Bicycle Seat—I check—With Maximum Wetness.So wet I need his fingers to spread it, marking my thighs and the back of his knuckl?—
