It was a lazy afternoon when Jasmine decided she was going to teach Akash how to make pizza. The sun cast a warm glow over the kitchen, filling the space with a cozy light. Jasmine, wearing an apron that barely covered the tank top and shorts beneath, glanced over at Akash as he sat at the kitchen table, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone.
"Hey, come here," she called, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "You promised you'd learn how to make pizza with me today."
Akash raised an eyebrow, pretending to be reluctant. "Pizza? You sure you want me to mess up your kitchen?"
"Oh, I don't think you'll mess anything up," Jasmine teased, her tone laced with something more suggestive than usual. She walked over to him, pulling him up by his wrist. The way her fingers brushed against his skin felt more deliberate than necessary, and the heat of her touch lingered. "Besides, I could use an extra pair of hands."
Akash smirked, letting himself be led into the kitchen. "Alright, alright. I guess if I'm going to learn, it might as well be from the best." His voice was low, eyes trailing over her form as she moved to the counter, gathering ingredients.
Jasmine threw him a knowing look, her hips swaying slightly as she gathered the flour, yeast, and other essentials. "That's right," she said. "Now pay attention."
She started explaining the steps, but Akash's mind was only half on the pizza and more on the way Jasmine moved, her body swaying slightly as she reached across the counter. Her closeness, the soft brush of her arm against his when she handed him ingredients, and the way her eyes lingered on him for a second too long made his heart race a little faster. There was a tension between them, building quietly but unmistakably.
"So," she began, her voice low and teasing, "you're going to knead the dough. It's all about getting your hands dirty, you know?"
Akash leaned in closer, his body barely an inch away from hers as she placed the dough in front of him. His hand brushed against hers as he reached for it, and she didn't pull away. In fact, her eyes met his with a challenging, playful glint.
"You sure this is about the dough?" he murmured, his voice just as teasing as hers.
Jasmine smirked, stepping closer, until their faces were almost level. "Depends on how good you are with your hands, Akash."
Her words hung in the air like a match striking against flint, the heat between them flaring to life. He began to knead the dough as she instructed, but his hands slowed as he felt her presence move in behind him. Jasmine pressed against his back, her lips close to his ear as she whispered, "You're moving too slow..."
Her breath sent a shiver down his spine. His muscles tensed as her hands slid over his, guiding him, teasing him. "Like this," she said softly, applying pressure over his hands, but it felt like more than a cooking lesson now.
Akash's heart pounded, and when Jasmine's body shifted against his, her front pressing against his back, he exhaled a little harder than he intended.
"Am I still doing it wrong?" he asked, his voice gruffer than before.
Jasmine's laugh was soft and sultry. "You'll learn. But I think you need more... practice."
The moment became a slow burn of tension as their hands worked the dough, but the air between them thickened with every second. She leaned closer, her lips brushing his earlobe, deliberately this time. "See? It's all about getting the right rhythm..."
Akash couldn't resist anymore. He turned around to face her, the dough forgotten on the counter. Jasmine's eyes widened with a mix of excitement and challenge, and she let out a quiet, surprised laugh as he stepped into her space, their bodies flush together.
