10 Things I Hate About Pinky - Sandhya Menon Page 0,67

there’s anything more peaceful than that.”

“We should do that this summer,” Samir said, turning to her. His hands, Pinky noticed, were still clamped really, really tightly on the branch behind him. “Read together in this tree, I mean.”

She laughed, leaned a hip against the tree, and pushed him lightly on the chest. “How are you going to read when your hands are practically making indentations in that branch?”

He gazed at her for a long moment, long enough to make her smile fade and her heart start to thrum, her stomach start to dip and twirl in excitement. Then, looking away, he said, “You know what I’ve been thinking?”

“What?” she asked, still feeling a little breathless from the intensity in his eyes. A wind rustled the leaves all around them, shrouding them in symphony.

“We’re still pretty awkward with each other, you and me. Physically, I mean.” He met her eye then, and her breath caught. “Remember when I leaned in close to you when we were playing Boggle?”

“Y-yeah, I remember,” Pinky said, barely able to speak. She pressed herself back against the tree trunk. Why was he bringing this up? What was he getting at?

“You jumped back. That’s not good, you know? What if your parents saw? What if they… suspected?” He’d moved closer to her as he spoke, his broad body eclipsing hers, his voice a low murmur. Their hands were brushing on the tree branch behind them, sparkles of electricity dancing between his skin and hers.

“Right,” Pinky said, nodding, still staring into his hypnotic eyes. Her breath came faster against her will, and her heart pounded a furious rhythm. “They might’ve suspected. That could ruin everything. So… what are you suggesting?”

Samir grinned slowly, looking every bit an evil J.Crew model. “Practice.”

“P-practice?” Pinky heard herself squeak. She wondered if he’d noticed her gaze flickering down to his lips.

Samir

Samir took a step closer to her on the thick branch so they were nearly toe-to-toe, his sneakered feet giant next to hers. He put one hand on the tree trunk by her head, the smell of her fresh, clean shampoo driving him a little bit crazy. “Practice,” he said, his gaze caressing her face. “Just so we can feel… more comfortable with each other.”

“Ph-physically.” A pulse flickered at the base of Pinky’s throat. He was extremely aware of her midriff right next to his hand, bare and brown and taut. “So we can be more convincing.”

“That’s right.” Samir was aware of how husky his voice sounded. And he was really aware of Pinky’s hitching breath, the way she batted her eyelashes and swallowed compulsively. She looked completely thrown, for a change, and Samir was enjoying being the one doing the throwing. “Just to be more convincing. What do you think, Pinky?” He caught an emerald-green curl as it blew across her face with the warm breeze and tucked it behind her ear. “Do you want to kiss me?”

Her lips parted and she nodded, her eyes burning with a flame he found incredibly sexy. Samir caressed her jaw, her cheekbone, the bridge of her nose with a fingertip. When her eyes fluttered shut, he brought his hand to her waist, his fingers resting gently against her sun-warmed bare skin, and his lips to hers, only just brushing against her velvet mouth. Pinky gasped softly against his mouth, her arms going around his waist and pulling him in. And then he was kissing her for real, his lips molding to hers, his tongue brushing against her parted mouth, tasting the sweet honey of her tongue.

Pinky

This was Samir she was practice kissing. Samir.

The thought should’ve made her double over in maniacal laughter, but somehow, it didn’t. Somehow, Pinky found herself deepening the kiss, inhaling the masculine, clean smell of him, reveling in those broad shoulders, those muscular arms encircling her waist. The thing was, Samir Jha was taking control, and she was letting him. And not just that, but she was enjoying this very strange new dynamic to their non-relationship.

Dear sweet goddess, what the hell was happening to her?

Samir

Even in this intense, hormone-high state, Samir was surprised at Pinky’s response. He’d hoped to catch her off guard by proposing this practice kiss, but he hadn’t expected the depth of her reaction.

She responded to him like she’d been starving and he’d handed her a delicious morsel of chocolate. Her hands roved his back and she pressed tight against his body, her gentle curves doing interesting things to his anatomy. Her tongue ran across his, tasting, testing,