Eleanor latched onto Anirudh like he was her safe harbor, diving into his arms and burying her face in his chest.
His warm grip wrapped her in a peace she'd never tasted. Since her dad kicked the bucket, she'd been propping up the Eleanor crew solo. Everyone saw the glam Eleanor—status and looks that had chicks jealous and dudes drooling—but who clocked how she dreaded the night shift?
Loneliness, dark hours, dead silence—she hated it!
She craved a guy to block the storm, pull her close, but the clowns she met were after her face or her cash. Greed lit up their stares—she wasn't handing herself over to that, not the vibe she was chasing.
But right now, plastered against Anirudh, she hit a zen she didn't know existed.
A drop-dead hottie mashed up on him, rocking just lace undies, skin-to-skin—Anirudh, barely shy of twenty and all fired up, felt his blood boil. A certain soldier saluted, breaths turning choppy, heart banging "thump, thump, thump" loud enough to bounce off the walls.
Catching that jackhammer pulse, Eleanor peeked up, thrown. His red-hot face and panting hit her, and she whispered, "Anirudh… you okay?"
"Eleanor, I… I'm dying here…" Anirudh mumbled, all shy and shaky.
"Dying? Where?" A worry spark flicked in her boozy eyes!
"Down south…" His voice was a ghost!
"Down south?" She blinked, then got it, flashing back to scrubbing him down that afternoon. Kid no more—he was a horny young buck now. Time to hook him up!
"Anirudh, you into Amy?" she cooed, picturing their bar banter.
"Yeah!" Anirudh's head was swimming, body lit like a furnace!
"Cool, I'll lock her down for you…"
"But I'm hurting now…" he groaned low.
Eleanor stalled, clocking his wincing, half-gone look and the tent pitched below. A blush crept up—he was like this 'cause he stuck around for her. No her, no pain.
She was his day-one pal—could she really cross that line? Doubt danced, but his fever vibe twisted her gut.
"Here?" Booze flipped a switch she'd never touch sober. If she couldn't go full throttle, couldn't she at least take the edge off?
Her soft hand slid down, grabbing him through his pants as she spoke.
"Mmm…" Anirudh nodded hard, quaking as she copped a feel.
"I'll sort you out… no more ache…" Set, she flung the blanket off, fumbling his belt loose.
Anirudh's brain flatlined. Sort him out? How? Wait, was she…? Still bugging, she popped his belt, yanked his pants, and boom—his big guy sprang free. Its sheer size pinked her cheeks again, then, under his gobsmacked stare, she dipped low, red lips parting to take him in.
Anirudh's eyes damn near popped. What the actual fuck? She was…
Her tongue flicked him, and he twitched, that beefy rod beefing up more. Heaven didn't even cut it.
Eleanor's game was rookie-level—teeth nicking him here and there, leagues below Aurora's finesse—but it slammed him with a gritty, electric kick.
No words could touch that high.
"Feel good?" Catching her slip-ups, she glanced up, all soft and sweet.
"Hell yeah…" Anirudh nodded like his life depended on it—bliss so nuts he could check out happy. Especially with Eleanor bent over, her killer rack swinging free, that S-curve body and jacked-up hips frying his brain—let alone her sucking him down?
Her foggy face cracked a smile at his vibe, then she dove back, soft tongue swirling him up. That zap kept buzzing…
Anirudh's soul yeeted skyward, her sharpening moves cranking the heat. Time smeared—then, with a full-body shake, Eleanor's face locked up mid-suck. No heads-up from this jerk? A salty hit stung her tongue, brow wrinkling, while Anirudh, blissed out, crashed into sleep, wiped from the mind-body double-tap…