Page 86 of Reckless Hate

She made a note to yell at the arrogant jerk not to stare at her when they were in public. She would have to stress once again that their deal needed to remain a secret.

***

It was late evening when she finally returned to her housing unit. Thankfully, there was no tennis practice that day due to upcoming exams. She didn’t think her sore body could handle the practice. She had joined Rishi at the workshop for a while before heading back.

Deciding to pamper herself, she took a quick shower and then turned on the steam setting in the shower cubicle she had never tried before. Soon, the entire bathroom filled up with steam. She sat on the small triangular-shaped marble bench in the corner of the cubicle and allowed the steam to soothe her bruised and sore body.

She cursed her enemy. The bastard hasn’t been careful with her both nights they had spent together. He lived up to his reputation of being the rough and wild lover. The only difference was that when he was with her, it wasn’t a threesome.

She couldn’t ever imagine Ved Simha as a romantic lover. He was too untamed and wild. Her cheeks heated as she realized she enjoyed the natural side of him.

Her eyes fell closed as the steam continued to soothe her sore body. She almost fell asleep, but she opened her eyes when she felt a draft of cool air hitting her body.

Her eyes popped open fully when the door to the shower cubicle opened. She saw her enemy stepping inside.

“What—” she broke off when she saw that he was entirely naked.

“Get out,” she snapped even as her cheeks heated. She attributed her blush to the hot steam and not her enemy’s naked and aroused body. They had spent time being naked together, but it was during either a challenge or during the moments of passion when she wasn’t conscious of their nakedness. But her enemy’s eyes slowly taking in her bare body made her want to run for cover.

“Why should I get out?” he asked with a smirk. “When it’s so cozy in here.”

“Ved…” she warned. “I have tennis practice tomorrow, and I need to get up early for a test.”

The bastard just grinned, flashing his dimples. “Don’t worry, I won’t keep you up for long. I’ll make sure you go to bed on time.”

Before she could say anything, his large, calloused palm went behind her neck, and he bent his head to plant a scorching kiss on her lips. Her lips automatically parted and let him in.

She got so lost in their kiss that she didn’t realize he had pulled her up and had her against the cold marble wall of her shower cubicle. His hands gripped her hips and picked her up against the wall. She felt his arousal against her throbbing core.

“Ved! I’m sore. I told you I have tennis practice tomorrow.”

His eyes glittered in heated arousal as he adjusted her body to his height. “I’ll be careful,” he whispered against her mouth.

She gasped and clung to him when he pushed into her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and her arms curled around his neck. The bastard wasn’t careful. He drove into her with a strange desperation that made her cling to him and respond in kind.

Soon, the bathroom filled with their cries of pleasure.

When her feet finally met the bathroom floor, she turned on the shower to rainwater setting and washed away the proof of their joining. Her cheeks remained heated as she opened the cubicle door and wrapped a towel around her body before stepping out of the bathroom.

She was still sore, but her body was buzzing with remnant pleasure. Her enemy joined her in the walk-in closet, wearing just a towel. With his hair dripping wet and his broad, muscled upper body on display, he looked mouthwatering.

Ugh.

Cursing him elaborately in French, she dragged her eyes away from him in irritation. The bastard just laughed.

“In English, please,” he said, flashing his dimples again.

Her body was sore, and she was sleep-deprived. And not to mention, she just had sex with him, and yet, her body still craved more of him.

Cursing her teen hormones along with her enemy, she opened the drawer and pulled out her underwear. She felt much better and in control when she wore a long t-shirt and loose track pants. But her enemy was still in his towel.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked, rubbing on his muscled chest lazily, looking entirely at ease and home.

“What?” She expected him to get dressed and leave.

“I just came from my basketball practice, and I’m starving. I smelled something nice in the kitchen last night. I know you must have made something during the weekend.”

She frowned. “Why can’t you go back to your housing unit and order something?”

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