“Tu parties vich bohot fun hunda hovenga na?”
“Urvin, I’m serious. Hamari truce ek din vi nahi chali.”
“Tu kinna boring sound kar reha hai.”
“Aur tu ek ziddi bachi lagg rahi hai.”
Urvin’s hazel eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Theek hai,” she snapped back. “Par fridge di first shelf meri hovengi. Aur main bartan dhovangi, par unhe jagah te tu rakhega, warna main agle din kaam nahi karungi.”
She opened the door a little wider, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest.
Vyom’s breath completely stopped in his throat.
She had changed her clothes. She was wearing a pair of extremely soft, Patiala-style lounge shorts paired with a tight, white ribbed baby tee. The shorts hugged her wide, curvy hips tightly and stopped right where her thick thighs met, exposing the delicious, soft, creamy gap between her legs. But that wasn’t the worst part. The thin, stretched fabric of the baby tee clung desperately across her heavy breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra. The sudden rush of cooler air from the hallway made her nipples harden instantly, pushing sharply and visibly against the thin cotton, begging for attention.
Waheguru, his mind panicked in absolute horror and raw lust. That is the most perfect, heavy rack I have ever seen in my entire fucking life.
A thick, hot rush of blood instantly pooled in his groin. His cock twitched violently, growing thick, heavy, and painfully hard inside his jeans, pressing aggressively against the metal zipper.
He couldn’t breathe. The sweet, musky scent of her bedroom—a mix of her perfume and the natural, intoxicating smell of a woman’s warm body—drifted into the hallway, making his head spin dizzily. Heavy, psychological guilt crashed into his surging lust. Stop staring at your sister’s tits, you fucking pervert! Look away!
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing sharply, and violently forced his eyes to look at the blank, peeling paint on the wall next to her head.
“T-Theek hai,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse, thick, and trembling slightly. Even while staring at the blank wall, the vivid image of her sharp, hard nipples was burned permanently into his brain.
He had to force himself to look her straight in the eyes when he finally turned back to her, fighting every natural male urge in his body to look down at her chest again.
“Main ek draft likh kar tainu email karunga. Jab final ho jayega, toh fridge te chipka davange.”
“Okay, Mummyji,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, completely unaware of the raging, painful erection hiding just inches away behind his denim jeans.
By eight o’clock, the rental unit had settled down. The white flag was still flying, but it was obviously a bit charred, burnt, and sad-looking.
Urvin came out of her room, needing at least some form of human company even if neither of them was really speaking. She sat at the dining table, her legs crossed, and sketched quietly while her brother sat on the couch, aggressively highlighting his college lab notes, trying to distract his still-simmering body.
Cracking her neck, she leaned back in her chair and stole a long, quiet look at him.
Silently, she wondered what it would take to get her sweet, loving brother back. Was it even possible anymore? She remembered the times they were nearly inseparable. They were incomplete memories, but beautiful ones just the same. Would they ever be able to make new memories like those again?
