His hands quivered, pulse hammering, breaths coming fast and shallow. Nerves? A rush? Anirudh couldn't tell what was sparking it. He fought to chill out, but with this kind of eye candy right there, calm was a pipe dream.
Sucking in a deep breath, he shoved the heat down again, fingers creeping toward the fourth button. They shook, grazing Eleanor's chest—just a whisper of a touch, but it zapped him like a live wire.
Her skin was silk, pure velvet. That split-second brush lit him up, and a loud gulp echoed as he swallowed hard.
Fourth button popped, and bam—Eleanor's killer rack spilled out, E-cup at least, hugged tight by a black lace bra that screamed look at me. The half-see-through fabric teased a pink glow underneath, and he choked down another gulp.
No time to gawk—he sucked in air, rushing to peel off her blouse and chuck it aside. Her waist was a damn masterpiece—no flab, all smooth curves, slinking like a snake. He swallowed like a man dying of thirst.
Blood roared in his veins, heart slamming like it'd bust out, a freaking drumline in his chest.
He yanked her belt loose, black lace panties peeking out. Zipping down her white pants flashed a hint of dark fuzz.
Reining in the fire again, he hoisted her hips, sliding the pants off. Legs for days stretched out—smoother than polished stone, catching a soft pink sheen in the light.
Between them, those lace panties played peekaboo with her goods, daring him to cross the line.
This body? God's cruelest tease to mankind. He knew it was off-limits, but the thought screamed anyway—take her, own her, screw who she was!
A sharp "smack" cracked as he slapped himself, yanking back from the edge. One look at Eleanor's perfect form, and he snatched the blanket, draping it over her. Another second staring, and he'd lose it—go full psycho.
Battling the inferno inside, he turned to bolt, but a soft hand snagged his. Whipping around, he caught Eleanor's hazy eyes cracking open, locking on him.
"Don't go… don't… stay…" A begging glint flickered in her boozy stare!
His chest twinged. All these years, she'd been riding solo—every night in this big place, just her.
Seeing her like this, he killed the urge to split.
"I'm staying…" he muttered, dropping onto the bed, letting her grip his hand. Plan was to wait till she conked out, then bounce. Crash here? Hell no—her body was a loaded trap, and he wasn't bulletproof. Stay all night, and who knows what'd go down? How'd he look her in the eye sober?
"Anirudh, crash with me, please?…" Her foggy eyes pinned him…
His heart did a flip. Crash together? Uh…
"Anirudh, I'm freaked out alone…" Before he could nope out, her voice hit again, those pleading eyes slicing through. Screw it—what's the harm? They'd bunked as kids. No sweat.
"Yeah…" Anirudh didn't overthink it. Ditching a shower, he kicked off his shoes and slid under the covers next to her…