The Australian Summer
Copyright© 2026 by BhagiRath
Chapter 1
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Isha came to Sydney to be with her fiancé Ankit. She didn't expect Cooper. As her fiancé retreats into screens and silence, his roommate draws her into a world of early mornings, physical challenge, and dangerous proximity. This is not a story about one moment of weakness. It's about a thousand small ones.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Cheating Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Interracial White Male Indian Male Indian Female Anal Sex Masturbation Oral Sex Transformation
Present Day
Udaipur, Rajasthan, India
The Udaipur palace hotel glowed against the night sky. Orange and yellow marigolds lined every pathway, the smell of jasmine and rose petals in the air, the sound of traditional Indian wedding music coming through the speakers.
A large, flower-adorned display stood in the corner. It said ‘Isha weds Ankit’ in a large, ornate, decorative font.
Isha Bhatia stood on the dais in her bridal lehenga — crimson and gold, heavy with embroidery. Her hands were stained dark with henna. The design climbed past her wrists, disappeared under her sleeves. Isha’s hair was straightened for the wedding, pinned under the weight of her dupatta, forced to become sleek and smooth in a way it never was naturally. Hours of work to make it look like this. Her mother had insisted.
Ankit Malhotra stood beside her. The groom. Wearing a pearl white sherwani and a pagdi, an intricate, adorned turban. He was smiling. He’d been smiling for two hours. His jaw ached from it.
The bride and groom hadn’t looked at each other in forty minutes. They were busy greeting guests, a necessary part of the post-wedding ceremonies, which made no sense to either of them.
Yet another distant relative climbed onto the dais. Uncleji adjusted his paunch. Auntyji adjusted her sari. The photographer counted down. The flash went off. They stepped down. Another set of guests stepped up. The pattern continued. Ankit and Isha’s fake smiles didn’t falter.
On Isha’s other side stood Dhriti. The bride’s twenty-two year old, younger sister. Rebellious, mischievous, unmarried, and making the most of it. She leaned close to Isha’s ear.
“Didi ... you look bored.”
“I am bored,” Isha said, still maintaining her smile.
“Didi, now that you’re finally married,” Dhriti said. “You’re going to turn boring, just like all these aunties.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“I’m not here to be helpful. I’m here to stand next to you and look pretty and hopefully find a boyfriend for myself. But slim pickings tonight...”
Dhriti stopped. Her eyes moved past Isha, past Ankit, past the guests streaming toward the dais. She was looking at the entrance.
“Who is that?”
Isha followed her gaze. A man was crossing the courtyard. Tall. Taller than almost everyone in the crowd. He wasn’t Indian. Sun-bleached blonde hair visible even in the warm lighting. He stood out.
Dhriti poked Isha’s shoulder. “Is that...”
Isha saw him. Her spine straightened. Her shoulders pulled back. The movement was automatic.
“Cooper!”
The word came out too loud. A few guests turned. Isha didn’t notice or didn’t care. She was already turning to Ankit.
“Coop’s here. He came.”
Ankit looked toward the entrance. His eyes found the man. His expression didn’t change. He gave a single nod, a small wave.
He came.
Ankit hadn’t expected him to actually come.
Cooper waved back. His eyes moved past Ankit, found Isha, and stayed on her.
“He came all the way from Sydney,” Isha said to Dhriti. She was smiling now ... really smiling, not the fake smile she’d been wearing for hours.
“He’s coming up,” Dhriti said.
Cooper walked toward the dais. He was wearing a dark suit, white shirt, no tie, the top buttons undone. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d been running his hands through it. He was smoothly weaving through the crowd of aunties and uncles and cousins and friends.
The relatives whispered.
“Who is that?”
“Ankit’s friend. From Australia.”
“Ankit has such loyal friends.”
“Handsome guy.”
“Is he married?”
“Handsome. But he’s not for our girls.”
“No, no ... definitely not. Not a foreigner.”
Cooper reached the dais. His eyes hadn’t left Isha. He walked past the photographer. Past the cluster of cousins waiting for their turn. Past Ankit.
He stopped in front of Isha.
He didn’t ask permission. He didn’t check if it was appropriate. He stepped into her space and pulled her into a hug.
There was no other way to describe it ... Isha melted into the hug. Her arms wrapped around him. Her fingers gripped the fabric of his suit.
The ever-observant aunties couldn’t pass up the opportunity to comment.
“Seems like he’s close with our Isha beti too.”
“A little too close, if you ask me.”
“Must be common in foreign countries, not here though.”
“Of course not. Can you imagine?!”
Dhriti was standing close to them, close enough to see the way her sister’s body shifted toward his, the way her hands tightened on his shoulders.
Cooper leaned close to Isha’s ear, his lips nearly touched it.
“You straightened your hair.”
Isha pulled back slightly. Her eyes met his. For a moment, the wedding, the guests, the aunties, all of it disappeared.
“Just for the ceremonies,” she said quietly. “It’ll be back to normal soon.”
His eyes held hers. Something passed between them.
“Good.”
Dhriti frowned. What was that about? She looked at Isha’s hair ... sleek and smooth, pinned under the dupatta and adorned with flowers. Why are they talking about her hair?
Dhriti glanced between them. The way they were looking at each other. Like no one else existed. Like the room had emptied and they were the only two people in it.
That’s enough.
“Didi, introduce us!” Dhriti said, louder than necessary.
Isha blinked. The moment broke.
“Dhriti, this is Cooper. Cooper, my younger sister.”
Dhriti smiled at him. “So you’re Ankit jeeju’s roommate. The Australian.”
“Guilty as charged.” Cooper chuckled, his voice deep and warm.
“The one my sister won’t shut up about.”
“Dhriti.”
“I’m just saying. Now I see why.”
Cooper smiled. He had an easy smile. He turned to Ankit, extended his hand.
“Congratulations, mate.”
“Thanks for coming, Cooper.” Ankit’s voice was warm. Polite. “Means a lot.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
The photographer cleared his throat.
“Photo, please. Groom’s friend ... stand next to groom.”
Ankit spoke up. “He’s friends with both of us.”
The photographer looked at the three of them. “Okay, stand in the middle.”
Cooper stood between them. One hand on Ankit’s shoulder ... casual, friendly. The other hand disappearing behind Isha’s back.
The photographer raised his camera.
“One, two...”
The flash went off.
The photographer checked the screen. Frowned.
“Madam,” he said to Isha. “Please look at the camera. You were looking at your friend.”
Isha hadn’t realized she’d done that.
“Oh, sorry about that bhayya.”
Cooper smiled. “Yes ... stop looking at me, Isha.”
She smiled back. “I was just ... surprised that you actually came.”
“Surprised, but happy ... I hope.”
Isha didn’t say anything, just looked at him and smiled.
The photographer raised his camera again.
“Madam, if you could...”
“I’m ready.”
The flash went off.
This time Dhriti was the one not looking at the camera. Because her attention was elsewhere.
On Cooper’s hand. On her sister’s ass.
It wasn’t resting there, it wasn’t an accidental brush. His hand was gripping Isha’s ass. His fingers dug into the curve of Isha’s behind, through the heavy silk of her lehenga, pressing into flesh he clearly knew the shape of.
This wasn’t the touch of a friend. This wasn’t the touch of someone who respected boundaries. This was the touch of a man marking territory.
A man who’d touched her there before, perhaps many times.
And Isha didn’t flinch when he did that. Didn’t pull away, heck, didn’t even look surprised.
In fact, she leaned into it. With a smile on her face.
Dhriti watched her sister’s body shift ... her back arching slightly, her butt pressing into Cooper’s palm. Like she was presenting herself to him.
Dhriti thought she was imagining it.
No way ... that couldn’t have been real ... not Didi ... not at her own wedding.
The guests shuffled forward for the next photo. Cooper turned to Isha.
“I should find my seat,” he said.
“Thank you for coming,” Ankit said. “Really.”
“Of course.” Cooper looked back at Isha. “I’ll see you later. Congratulations, again.”
He walked off the dais. Isha watched him go. Dhriti watched Isha watching him go.
“Didi,” Dhriti hesitated. “Why was ... is there something going on...”
“What?”
“Um ... nothing.”
Isha could see Dhriti wanted to ask her something, but before she could press, the next set of guests had climbed onto the dais. Isha arranged her smile. Ankit arranged his. The photographer counted down. The flash went off.
As she was posing for a photo with yet another inconsequential, unknown relative, Isha’s mind went back to thinking about Cooper.
His voice. His eyes. The way he’d looked at her. The way he’d touched her. The scent of his cologne that still lingered faintly in the air around her.
And then her mind went further back. Back to when she first laid her eyes on Cooper Hayes.
Five Months Earlier
Sydney, Australia
The Sydney international airport was bright and loud. Isha Bhatia came out of the arrivals gate. She’d been traveling for eighteen hours. Delhi to Singapore. Singapore to Sydney.
Isha was 5’6”, slim, with dark, natural curls that fell past her shoulders. She had the fair, golden-wheat complexion typical of Punjabi women. High cheekbones, full lips, dark eyes. She was pretty. The kind of pretty that made men look twice but never stare. She was wearing loose linen pants and a simple white kurta, comfortable for the long flight.
She spotted Ankit, he was standing near the exit, phone in hand, scrolling.
She figured he must be looking at work emails. He had the same focused intensity she had seen on his face countless times, ever since they were kids solving math problems together.
He looked up, saw her, and a smile appeared on his face. That sweet, familiar smile that had made her fall in love with him back in eighth grade when he’d defended her from the boys who were teasing her about her braces.
Ankit rushed forward, taking her suitcase, pulling her into a hug.
“Isha, I missed you so much,” he said, his voice muffled against her hair. “Welcome to Sydney!”
Isha held on. Tighter than she meant to. Eight months of video calls and voice notes and texts that couldn’t capture the way he smelled, the way his body felt pressed against her.
“I missed you too, Ankit,” she replied. She really meant it. She’d missed him. Her Ankit. Her would-be husband. The boy who’d waited at her bus stop every morning for three years, even though his bus came twenty minutes after hers. The man who held her hand through her grandmother’s funeral, never once leaving her side.
He was her person.
Isha and Ankit had been inseparable for the longest time. They went to the same school, the same parties, their parents ran in the same social circles. Everyone approved of their pairing. Everyone knew they’d end up together. The engagement was formal, expected, comfortable. Then Ankit got the job offer in Sydney. Eight months of long-distance. And now she was here, five months before the wedding, finally in the same city as her fiancé.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
She took his hand. It fit the way it always had. Like they’d been doing this forever. Like they’d never stop.
The drive from the airport took thirty minutes. She watched the city unfold through the window ... the harbor, the bridge, the rows of houses climbing up the hills. Sydney was quite different, even the sky was a different shade of blue than what she was used to.
“I made a list,” Ankit said. “Places I want to take you. The Opera House, obviously. But also this ramen place in Haymarket, it’s my favorite ... it’s incredible, Isha, you’ll love it. And there’s a coastal walk in Bondi that goes all the way to Coogee, I thought we could do it on Saturday...”
“That sounds lovely, Ankit,” she said, happy to see him so excited. “I’ll come wherever you take me.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand.
“By the way, your mom came to drop me off at the airport,” Isha said as Ankit drove her home.
“Oh yeah?”
“She’s worried about the wedding. Your aunt Lata, she wants her to invite some thirty extended family members ... they live in Jhansi?”
“Okay ... let her invite them, what’s the problem?”
“She wants your mom to invite ALL of them, Ankit. People we don’t know, who won’t know us, who will just show up, eat, and leave. Your mom said she hasn’t seen them in over twenty years.”
“Yeah, so what? No point arguing with Lata aunty about this ... a few more guests we don’t know? We’ll manage.”
“Ankit.” She turned to look at him, somewhat frustrated. “Your mom is right. Classic conflict avoidance.”
“I don’t avoid conflict. I just don’t see the point of fighting about something that doesn’t matter.”
Isha didn’t say anything. Ankit continued.
“I just want everyone to be happy,” he glanced at her. “Including you, Isha. I don’t want you stressed about my family before the wedding.”
She knew him, better than anyone. Ankit didn’t like to push, he didn’t like to create uncomfortable situations.
And she knew why he was like that — his parents, constantly screaming at each other behind closed doors, but wearing smiles in front of guests. Ankit had learned early that confrontation was dangerous. That silence was safety. That pretending things were fine was easier than facing that they weren’t.
It had made him gentle. It had made him kind. But it had also made him someone who would rather swallow discomfort than risk a fight.
That’s why Isha and Ankit hardly ever argued about anything. Which she was okay with, but she worried about people taking advantage of Ankit.
Ankit turned onto a street that sloped toward the water. The houses here were expensive. Isha could tell by the way they were set back from the road, the posh cars in the driveways, the windows shining in the bright sunlight.
“Nice area,” she said.
“Wait till you see the apartment.”
“Wait ... you live in this locality?”
“I rent. My roommate owns the apartment.”
“Roommate?”
“Cooper. You remember me mentioning him?”
“The Australian?”
“Yeah ... remember I told you? You’ll like him ... nice guy.”
“Hmmm ... what’s he like?”
Ankit considered the question. “He’s ... Australian.”
She laughed. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. You’ll see.”
He pulled into a driveway. A gate slid open. The car eased into an underground garage. Concrete walls. Polished floors. A spot marked with a number.
“Home,” Ankit said.
The elevator opened onto a hallway, and then they arrived at a door.
“This is us.”
The apartment was beautiful. Open kitchen, floor-to-ceiling windows, a balcony overlooking the harbor. The Opera House sat in the distance like a white shell.
Ankit led her down a hallway. “This is our room. I cleared space in the closet. That door at the end ... that’s Cooper’s. He’s probably out. Probably out for a run or the gym or some outdoor things. He’s very ... active.”
Isha was tired. The flight was catching up with her. Her eyes felt heavy.
“I should shower and sleep,” she said.
“I’m glad you’re here, Isha,” he said. He sat next to her on the bed, put his arm around her shoulders. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
She meant it. She was happy. She was in Australia with the man she was going to marry.
A few hours later, Isha woke to the sound of a door slamming. She heard voices in the kitchen. One was Ankit. The other was deeper, louder.
She walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, which opened to the large living room. Sunlight was pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The harbor glittered beyond the glass.
And standing at the counter, shirtless, was a man she’d never seen before.
He was white, his skin fair but also tanned. He looked like he earned that tan from spending his life outdoors under the Australian sun. His hair was sun-bleached blonde, darker at the roots. Longer on top, short on the sides. Wet. Like he’d just showered.
And he was tall. Taller than Ankit. Much taller. His shoulders were wide, his frame was solid. And his chest was broad and defined, the muscles visible but not exaggerated. A light dusting of hair across his pecs, trailing down his stomach in a thin line.
But it was his arms that made Isha’s gaze linger a bit. They were big. Not the round, inflated look of gym bros who trained for Instagram. These were dense and long. His biceps curved and thick, even at rest. His forearms, and the veins on them. Isha realized she was staring and stopped.
Standing next to this man, Ankit looked small. Not just short, but narrower, and softer.
He was talking to Ankit. Something about a running path he’d found along the coast. Then he turned and saw Isha.
Isha had tied her messy curls into a knot at the back of her head, and now the unruly strands were escaping around her face. That was the first time Cooper laid eyes on Isha.
“Ah. You’re up.” His voice was loud. Not shouting as such, it just filled the room when he spoke.
“Isha, this is Cooper. Cooper, this is Isha, my fiancée.” Ankit introduced them.
Cooper stepped forward. He was wearing running shorts and nothing else. His chest was still damp. Water droplets clung to his skin.
“Good on ya for making it. Glad to finally put a face to the name.” He extended his hand. His grip was firm. His palm was rough. Calloused. “Ankit’s told me a lot about you.”
“All good, I hope,” Isha said.
“Mostly.” He smiled. It was an easy smile. White teeth, crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
Isha noticed he didn’t move to put on a shirt. He just stood there. Bare chested. Like it was completely normal.
“Sorry,” he said, noticing her eyes move across his chest. “Just got back from a run. Haven’t had a chance to clean up.”
“It’s your house,” Isha replied.
“It’s our house.” He gestured around. “Ankit’s been here a while. You’re staying for a while. That makes it yours too.”
He walked to the refrigerator. Pulled out a bottle of water. Drank half of it in one go.
Isha watched the muscles in his back shift as he moved. She realized she was staring again and averted her eyes.
“I was telling Cooper about this new game I am playing ... it’s called Realms of Ruin,” Ankit said, leaning forward, excitement in his voice. “The game mechanics are actually pretty interesting once you get into them.”
“Yes ... fascinating stuff,” Cooper said, setting the bottle down. He looked at Isha. “You hungry? Was gonna smash some brekkie together. Eggs, avo, the works. Ankit here can’t cook to save himself.”
“I can cook,” Isha said.
“Then we’ll cook together.”
Cooper chopped vegetables with the efficiency of someone who’d done it a thousand times. He let Isha handle the eggs, the spices, the actual assembly. He stood close at the counter. His bare arm brushed hers when he reached for the salt. She moved slightly, giving herself space.
Ankit sat at the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone.
“Ankit, put the phone down,” Isha said.
“Right. Sorry.” Ankit set it down. “So, Cooper. Tell Isha about your company.”
Cooper leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Not my company anymore. Started it when I was twenty-two. Cooper Creek Adventures. We arranged group and private nature hikes, adventure sports, trained people.” He shrugged. “Did quite well, built a brand around it. Sold it to my business partner a year ago. Now he runs it, and I just get a slice of the profits.”
“He’s being too modest,” Ankit said. “I’ve seen ads and billboards for CCA around the city. It’s your name on the company, after all. Cooper never needs to work again!”
Cooper chuckled. He then looked at Isha.
“Please don’t think I am narcissistic enough to name the company after myself,” Cooper said. “Cooper Creek is an actual creek ... my family is from there and they named me after the creek.”
Isha smiled and nodded.
“So do you still do a lot of ‘adventuring’?” Isha asked, whipping up the eggs.
“I like to stay active,” Cooper said. “Part of the reason why I handed the company off ... I didn’t want to be bogged down. I’d rather spend time doing what I want.”
“Oh yeah, Cooper is all about fitness,” Ankit said. “He spends at least two hours at the gym every day.”
“Keep trying to drag this bloke to the gym,” Cooper said, pointing to Ankit. “But he’s having none of it.”
“Oh my god! I’ve tried too,” Isha said, rolling her eyes. “Ankit prefers playing video games, rather than go on a run with me.”
“He does play on his computer,” Cooper looked at Ankit with a smile. “A lot.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad.” Ankit grinned.
Isha rolled her eyes again and Cooper laughed.
They continued talking while they ate at the kitchen island. Ankit and Isha on one side, Cooper on the other. He’d still not put on a shirt.
“So, Isha ... Ankit tells me you’ve done some modeling in the past?” Cooper asked.
Isha looked at Ankit, he was scrolling through his phone while stuffing the food down his throat.
“Yes, but that was a long time ago,” Isha smiled. “Just some local ads. Nothing much.”
“Well, you certainly look the part,” Cooper said, drawing a shy smile from Isha. “Would you ever want to go back into modeling?”
“Not really,” Isha replied. “It wasn’t really my cup of tea. Too competitive. And right now, I just want to focus on the wedding.”
“Ahh yes, just five months left.” Cooper smiled. “How are you feeling? Pre-wedding jitters?”
Isha smiled. “No jitters, not really. I’ve known Ankit my whole life. It feels like the most obvious next step, to me.”
Cooper smiled. He stood up and picked up his plate.
Isha continued, putting some more food into her mouth. “The only thing I am worried about, is getting in shape for the wedding.”
Cooper looked back at her from the sink. “You look great! I don’t think you have too much to worry about.”
“That’s what I keep telling her,” Ankit said, not looking up from his phone.
Isha gave Ankit a look, which he didn’t see because his eyes were on the phone.
“There’s always room for improvement of course,” Cooper said, rinsing his plate at the sink. “If you want it, that is.”
“I just want to ... you know, feel good about myself.” Isha said, tucking a curl behind her ear.
“Now that, I can absolutely understand,” Cooper said, sitting back down at the island. “There’s nothing like the rush you get from seeing the result of your hard work reflected in your body.”
“Yes ... that’s the one thing I miss from my modeling days,” Isha said. “I used to practically live on the treadmill back then.”
“Well, if you’re keen, there’s a gym nearby. Private, good equipment. I’m there most mornings. You’re welcome to tag along.”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose.” Isha wasn’t expecting his offer.
“You’re not. Got a plus-one pass that’s just going to waste. That’s why I asked Ankit, but he never comes.”
“She’d be a much better candidate for that,” Ankit said, still looking at his phone. “I’m useless when it comes to all that health stuff. All that running around and picking up heavy things, it’s just not me”
“We also have a sauna.” Cooper pointed out his bedroom door to Isha. “Infrared. Installed it in my room. You’re welcome to use it whenever.”
“You have a sauna in the apartment?”
“Yes ... one of the few luxuries I allow myself. Nothing like your own personal sauna, mate. Absolute luxury!”
“That’s ... amazing. Thank you for offering!”
“It’s nothing.” He stood up and stretched his arms. “I’m going to take a shower. Then I’ve got some things to take care of.”
He looked at Isha. “It was really nice meeting you... ‘roomie’.” He smiled. “See ya round.”
Cooper walked down the hallway. Still shirtless. Still unbothered. He disappeared into his room. A moment later, she heard the shower start.
That evening, Ankit’s parents video-called from Delhi. His mother fussed over Isha ... asked about the flight, the room, whether Ankit was taking care of her. Then she turned her attention to her son.
“Ankit, stop playing those silly video games,” she said. “Pay attention to your fiancée. She came all the way to Australia to spend time with you. She’s exactly what you need in your life, thank your stars she agreed to marry you.”
“Yes, Mom.” Ankit droned, looking at an amused Isha.
“I mean it, Ankit!” his mom said sternly. Then she looked at Isha. “Isha beti, don’t let him disappear into that screen. Make him go outside. Make sure he eats properly...”
“She already does, Mom.” Ankit’s voice was firm. “She takes better care of me than I do.”
“I will, Aunty,” Isha said. “Don’t worry ... I’ll take care of our boy.”
His mother smiled, satisfied. They said goodbye. Ankit closed the laptop.
“She worries,” Ankit said.
“That’s what mothers do,” Isha said, running her fingers through his hair, lovingly. “But she’s right about one thing ... you gaming does get out of hand sometimes”
“Oh come on ... it’s not that bad, is it?”
“What’s this new thing you’re playing ... ruined worlds...”
“Realms of Ruin ... you don’t get it Ishu ... it’s won game of the year twice...”
“Yeah that one, you’ve been talking about it so much.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Do I love the game ... yes! But I won’t spend too much time on it ... especially now that you’re here.”
Ankit took her into his arms and gave Isha a peck on her cheek.
“Besides,” he continued. “The game won’t let you play too much ... we need restoration points to reset every day. You see...”
“AAAAA, stop it and just kiss me!”
He did.
Later, in bed, Isha asked: “Is Cooper shirtless like that all the time?”
Ankit laughed. “Are you still thinking about that? He just came back from a run. He was probably hot.”
Isha narrowed her eyes.
“But yes,” Ankit admitted. “He’s shirtless almost all the time.”
“Don’t you find that ... weird?”
“He’s Australian. They’re like that. Comfortable with their bodies. Not like us, Indians.” Ankit shifted closer to her on the bed.
“You realize you’re stereotyping Australians and Indians at the same time, with that ridiculous statement.”
Ankit laughed. “No, no ... well, I guess? I don’t know ... Cooper’s just Cooper.” Ankit tried to explain himself. “You didn’t like him?”
“I didn’t say that.” Isha was being careful with her words.
“You seem ... I don’t know. Put off by him.” Ankit said.
“I wasn’t put off. I was just ... surprised.” She paused. “He’s very...”
“What?”
“Intense,” Isha said. “And ... you know ... he takes up the whole room.”
Ankit smiled. “He’s a good guy, Isha. Give it time, he’ll grow on you. Try to be friends with him.”
“I don’t know about friends,” she paused. “But I’ll try. You know how sometimes, people just don’t click?”
“Well ... aren’t you going to go work out with him?” Ankit asked.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Isha said. “I don’t feel comfortable going with him alone. I know you won’t come to the gym. It’ll be weird ... just me and him.”
“Oh come on, Isha,” Ankit said. “You’re worrying unnecessarily. He’s harmless. And besides, this way I can get out of coming to the gym.”
Ankit grinned, while Isha gave him an disapproving nod.
“Anyway, enough about Cooper.” Ankit’s hand found Isha’s waist, pulling her closer with a sudden urgency that surprised her. “I have other things on my mind.”
“Finally!” she said. “I was wondering what was taking you this long.”
Ankit held her chin up with his finger. “I didn’t want you to feel rushed, babe.”
Isha’s voice was breathless, her fingers already gripping his shirt. “Rushed? It’s been eight months, you ass. Do you know how long that is?”
“Too long.” He kissed her. Soft lips. Soft hands.