"What were you about to say before my mother barged in?" I ask Aniket, twirling a button on his shirt as he got ready.
He brushes his raven black hair, dipping his head to see if the back of his hair was alright.
"Nothing." He says nonchalantly, as puts the hairbrush on the vanity table and holds up my wrist to kiss the inside.
I flash a shy smile at him, entwining my hands into his as we exit our bedroom.
I was dressed in a casual white shirt, with ripped light blue jeans. A turquoise tear drop shaped necklace hung from my neck, giving my look a finishing touch. I wore black sandals, with glittering gray stones encrusted on the top. To Aniket's request, I let my long hair down completely.
Aniket, on the other hand, was dressed as if he was attending a meeting with the prime minister. He was wearing a dark blue two piece suit with a white shirt and a light blue tie. He looked handsome with his devious smirk, and his sculpted jaw, while his brown eyes glinted with mischief.
"I don't like that shirt on you." Aniket says, eyeing my chest.
I cover myself with my hands, folding them till my fingers reached my shoulder. "What's wrong?" I ask, examining my self.
"You can see through the white shirt." He pauses, raising a eyebrow."Isn't that my shirt?"
I lower my eyes, and lift the collars of the shirt, hiding my smiling lips from him. "Yes." I murmur.
He bites his bottom lip, giving me a once over. "Just wear a tank top underneath." He says, his gaze lowering once again.
My neck starts to warm, and I head back into my room to change. I glance at my reflection on the vanity. I struggle with the buttons, since I've only worn uniforms, and Indian clothing all my life, with the occasional tops.
"What's taking you so long?" Aniket asks, striding back into the room impatiently.
I point to the buttons on my shirt, pouting at him. He shakes his head, but closes the distance between us, starting to unbutton the shirt agonizingly slow.
I melt into his chocolate brown eyes as he strictly stares at the buttons on my shirt. His thumb grazes my skin a few times, and I knew he was doing it on purpose, so I declined my own desire to moan.
I was not losing.
"You know, you're more beautiful this way." He says, looking like a starved man in the middle of a desert.
I turn, quickly opening up the drawer to get my undershirt. Aniket stops me before I could close it again. "What's that?" He asks, pointing at the revealing underclothes in the drawer.
"None of your business." I say, squashing his fingers as I closed the drawer quickly. I just hoped that he didn't get more curious than that.
"It is my business, if you're wearing it." He says, wincing as he wrenches his hand out of the closed drawer.
"You saw that I'm not. And I never will." I growl at him, throwing on my undershirt and the shirt back on. Aniket moves to button it up, and I let him, since the first time I did that, it took me the whole time he spent to shower.
"Why not? Are you afraid, Mrs. Pandya?" He asks, trailing his long fingers south as he buttons up the shirt.
"Please. I don't like them. Plus, you were the one who bought them for me." He frowns when I shrug, moving towards the door as he finishes buttoning down the shirt.
He stops me, pulling my wrist, and I halt in my steps. He turns me to face him, and lifts my chin so I would meet his gaze. "I did?" He asks, smirking.
YOU ARE READING
The Workaholic Wife ✅
Любовные романыA workaholic doctor never thought about marriage a day in her life until she woke up to find a man in her bedroom. Her mother wanted grandchildren and she wanted to abide her wishes, so that her mother would not scorch her ears until she does. What...