..Out of the Blue ..💙

23. Heard it right

"Zoya, I swear, if you don't give me the towel..."

"Or what, Monica?" I smirked, raising my eyebrows.

"Zoya, stop your stupid games! You're being unfair, and it's getting cold. I have to get out."

"Ohh, not so quickly, mama. How about you ask a little nicely? A 'please' would be better."

"I don't beg, Zoya."

"Fine then, stay in the water. I'm going to sleep."

"Zoya! I'm going to come up and throw you in the water!"

"Oh really? You're going to come up like that? Half-naked?" I laughed.

She just shrugged. "I don't mind."

"Zoya, I'll count to five. If you don't pass me the towel, then consider it done."

"One. Two. Three..."

She's kidding, right? She won't actually do it. Don't give in, Zoya; these are just her tricks. I stood there, determined. Could Monica really be that daring?

"Four. Five."

Shit, she wasn't lying.

Before I could process what was happening, she stormed out like a thunderbolt—her boobs in full view for a split second. My brain short-circuited. Before I could even catch a proper glimpse, she grabbed me and threw me into the pool.

She jumped back in and dunked me under the water repeatedly, laughing like a maniac. "Monica, please stop! I beg you!"

Finally, she pressed me against the pool wall, her hands on either side, hovering over me. We were really close. Though her chest was submerged, I couldn't help but glance for a split second before looking back at her face.

"Perhaps you're enjoying this a little too much?" she smirked, catching my wandering eyes.

"It's not like that! I just... didn't expect you to actually do it!" I stammered, trying to deflect.

"You don't know me well, Zoya." With that, she turned, her bare back on display, showing off intricate tattoos. Damn, this woman is sexy.

Soon, she wrapped herself in a towel, and I couldn't help but think, So this is what Rishi saw in her. Monica is beautiful—irritating as hell—but undeniably stunning.

After drying off, I realized I hadn't brought a change of clothes. My plan was definitely not to jump into the pool. Frustrated, I rummaged through Monica's cupboard.

She cleared her throat behind me. I turned to see her in black shorts and a loose white tee. Her black bra was faintly visible through the fabric, and she looked... amazing. My lips instinctively twitched into a bite. What the hell, Zoya? You're straight. Stop with these intrusive thoughts.

"What are you doing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ahh, finding something to wear," I replied awkwardly.

"Really? Have you found anything?" she teased, stepping closer.

I froze as her scent hit me—clean, fresh, and intoxicating. When her hand brushed mine as she grabbed a shirt, my heart raced.

"This should do,"

God, I am so deprived that I am craving Monica's touch. What's wrong with me? This would be nice. She took a light cotton shirt and shorts. I took them and smiled. I don't know why, but I was a little shy to raise my eyes at her.

She lay on the bed, covered herself to the chest with a blanket. To be frank, she looked like a cotton ball—so cuddly.

"No, Zoya," I whined. Stop with these thoughts.