Not My Little Sister

Chapter 42: Lana and Yaya

Vinaya's heart raced as nerves fluttered in her chest. She was still a virgin, and the thought of what lay ahead filled her with excitement and trepidation. But this was Nithin, her Nithin. Camarillo's words echoed in her mind, bringing an unbidden flush to her cheeks.

"Look at how big his hands and feet are. That'll tell you how big his joystick is."

Doubts began to swirl. What if he didn't fit? What if it hurt? Was she truly ready for this? What if...

"Yaya?" Nithin's gentle voice broke through her tumultuous thoughts. "You're freaking out, aren't you?"

How did he know her so well? After all this time?

"No," she lied, trying to mask her anxiety. If this wasn't freaking out, she didn't know what was. Nithin rolled off her, giving her a sidelong glance before chuckling.

"Are you laughing at me?" Her eyes narrowed, anger coming to her rescue. She climbed over him, and her bra, unhooked, slipped down. His eyes dropped to her chest before she could grab his T-shirt from the side and cover herself. She sat up on the bed, pulling the oversized T-shirt over herself. It was so big on her that it hung loosely, covering her to her mid-thigh.

"So shy?" he teased, sitting up opposite her.

"Not everyone is as shameless as you," she mumbled, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

"Yaya, I'm your husband," he said softly, brushing her hair away from her face. His touch was tender, and her expression softened.

"I guess I'm not ready yet," she admitted, looking down at her hands, her voice barely a whisper.

"It's okay," Nithin told her, his voice full of understanding. Her head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise.

"I didn't say I was sorry," she scowled, though her gaze dropped to his arousal. She hesitated. "I guess I am sorry... I could help you with that..." Her voice trailed off, uncertainty evident. She had never given anyone a hand job or a blow job before, and the thought made her nervous.

Nithin searched her face, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and affection. With a small smile, he reached for his wallet and took something out, tossing it to her. She caught it, her eyes widening in surprise. It was a flavored condom. The realization of what it was for made her cheeks flush with heat. She hadn't expected him to take her up on her offer so quickly. But she had orgasmed twice; it was only fair that he got a release too.

Nervously, she fumbled with the packaging, her fingers trembling slightly. Nithin's loud laughter startled her, and she looked up, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and offense. Without thinking, she threw the condom at him, but it missed and landed behind the headboard, causing Nithin to laugh even harder.

Vinaya glared at him until his laughter subsided. Finally, he caught his breath and looked at her with a teasing glint in his eyes. "You know, your lack of aim was the main reason your brother was so mad?" he asked, his tone light and playful.

"What do you mean?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"He told me he had found the condoms. And your underwear. I told him we never did anything, and he called me a liar." Nithin's smile flickered as he spoke, and Vinaya sensed the hurt he still held in his heart from the conflict with her brother.

Without thinking, Vinaya hugged him tightly, her arms wrapping around him, her body atop his, and her face pressed against his chest. "You know what?" she said impulsively, lifting her head. "Let's call Mohan Ettan." She reached over and grabbed her phone from the bedside table.

"Vinaya, wait—" Nithin started to protest, but it was too late. She had already dialed Mohan on FaceTime, and he picked up on the first ring. The screen illuminated, showing his familiar face against the dark background. Vinaya suddenly remembered it was nearly noon in Houston but close to midnight in India.