Vedant Khanna had unknowingly become my newest obsession. A full-blown, no-cure, sinful little addiction.
Every morning, I'd wake up early—not for yoga or studying—but to watch him do his Surya Namaskar shirtless on the balcony. His back, all sculpted and glistening with sweat, lit up in golden streaks by the early sun.
And every night, I'd catch him again—bent over his telescope, completely immersed, like the stars whispered secrets meant only for him.
I loved watching him. Until—
"Sohini, take this kheer to the Khannas," Maa said, handing me a bowl of creamy dessert. It's custom—you never return a plate empty.
I looked down. It was the same fancy bowl Vedant had sent brownies in.
My stomach flipped. I might get to see him up close—maybe even talk to him.
I was already in front of the mirror, letting my hair fall loose, a touch of lip tint, a smudge of kajal—effortless but intentional.
"What's with the get-up?" Maa asked, suspicious.
"Just trying to be—presentable," I replied smoothly.
Lie. I wanted to seduce that emotionally unavailable, brooding, trauma-soaked, painfully hot divorcee.
I rang their doorbell, silently chanting a prayer that Vedant would answer.
But nope. The maid.
"Yes?"
"Uh—is anyone home? Uncle, aunty—Vedant bhaiya?" I asked casually.
38
"Only Vedant bhaiya. Why?"
"I was just returning the bowl. With some kheer in it."
She reached out. "Alright, give it."
I reluctantly handed it over, already turning away, disappointed—until I heard that voice.
"Who is it?"
That deep, sleepy, ridiculously sexy voice.
I turned back. And froze.
Vedant was walking down the stairs, damp hair tousled, a white towel hanging low on his hips. Water trailed down his chest and abs like he was carved out of divine sin.
Was he trying to seduce me too?
"You?" His brows lifted, then softened.
"I came to return the bowl. Maa made kheer— her best, you'll love it." I said, breathless.
He let out a low laugh. "Alright."
"Alright," I echoed like a damn idiot, eyes drinking in every inch of him.
"Anything else?" he asked, voice dipped in curiosity.
I shook my head quickly and fled, cheeks burning.
But that night, I couldn't stop thinking about him. That towel. That voice. That body.
When the house went quiet, and everyone was asleep, I gave in.
My hand slipped under the blanket, trailing up under my T-shirt to cup my breast through my bra.
My nipple peaked beneath my fingers. My other hand moved between my legs, pressing down on the heat throbbing through my shorts.
I imagined Vedant, wet and naked, pressing me against his bed, whispering filthy promises into my ear. That towel falling. His cock hard and heavy against my stomach.
My fingers slipped beneath my panties, finding my pussy already soaked. I eased one finger in, moaning softly, then added another, curling them as I rubbed my clit with the heel of my palm.
"Fuck—" I breathed.
My other hand pulled my bra down, pinching my nipple as my hips rocked, chasing release. I imagined him—his mouth, his weight, his breath on my skin.
"Vedant—" I gasped, arching, legs trembling, coming hard with his name on my lips.
I collapsed into the mattress, panting. Spent. Sticky. Shameless.
And then came the next morning.
As I was brushing my teeth, still replaying last night, Maa strolled in like a harbinger of chaos.
"I got you a maths tutor!" she announced.
"Great—"I mumbled through the foam.
"Vedant bhaiya will be teaching you," she added cheerfully.
I choked.
Vedant Khanna. Was going to tutor me?
The same man I had fingered myself to just hours ago? God was not subtle with her jokes.
Fuck. My. Life.