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Devi Vishwakumar hasn’t been in Sherman Oaks, California for longer than a week since her holiday breaks in college. And now here she is, moving back .
She’s spent the past six years of her life in Washington, D.C. working on campaigns and advising politicians as a political consultant, making quite a name for herself. Enough of a name to be poached from D.C. to the most prestigious consulting firm in Los Angeles County. It’s the exact ego boost she needed after half a decade of being brow-beaten by egotistical politicians and crying interns, each more infuriating than the last. She’s no longer Devi Vishwakumar, the most promising political mind in D.C., she’s Devi Vishwakumar, the most promising political mind in the damn country and a partner-track consultant at the Prishant Strategy Group.
The high she gets from having the most powerful men and women in the country come crawling to her for campaign and messaging advice? Indescribable. Sure, you could be The Politician, but why would you do that when you could be The Woman The Politicians Count On?
Devi also gets a smug feeling out of making a ridiculously huge living off a Political Science degree. Her mom is still reluctant to admit she was wrong about law school. Although, Nalini has calmed down since Devi told her she was moving back home. She’s been lonely since Kamala got married and moved to Chicago. While Devi was busy wrapping things up in D.C. her mom was scouting apartments, putting the fear of god into every realtor in the Valley.
It’s a Friday night and Devi just spent the past two days moving into a new apartment while trying to deal with cross-country jet lag. She currently has a bed and two weeks’ worth of clothes, no WiFi, and absolutely no booze in her apartment. Hence why she is now in a slightly upscale hipster bar that just served her a $7 vodka soda in a mason jar. With no damn lime.
Devi grumbles and looks down the bar, trying to catch the bartender’s attention, when she hears a voice that she hasn’t heard since junior year of high school.
“Devi?”
She turns and there he stands, under his own personal spotlight: Paxton Hall-Yoshida. Devi’s mouth goes dry. He looks good . His jawline is lightly stubbled, accentuating the sharp edges. His hair is longer than it was in school, a little less gelled together but somehow it works for him. He’s wearing slim dark jeans that hug his thighs and a crisp gray button-down over a worn leather jacket. In other words, like every fantasy Devi had about him in high school but somehow better.
She’s staring. Devi is 29 years old, a whole ass adult, the governor of California now pays her to tell them when they’re being an idiot, and she’s staring at Paxton Hall-Yoshida like he’s a piece of meat. Nothing has changed.
“Paxton, oh my god, is that you?” Stilted recovery, he definitely noticed her blatantly checking him out, but Paxton still smiles and reaches out to hug her, lightly kissing her cheek on the way in. Devi returns the embrace, heart racing. Holy shit, he smells good too.
“Devi Vishwakumar, in the flesh,” he says after he pulls away, settling into the stool next to her. “Never thought I’d see you around here again. You visiting your mom?”
“I, uh, moved back actually. New job,” Devi explains.
Paxton nods, looking away as the bartender comes up to take his order. “Can I get a whiskey sour? Thanks, man,” he hands the guy a credit card to start a tab.
Devi smiles. So he’s planning to stay awhile…
“So what do you do now? I know you went to Princeton.”
She blinks, pleasantly surprised that he kept tabs on her. They haven’t spoken since he graduated. “I’m a political consultant, mostly campaign strategy and messaging. Grassroots campaigns. That sort of thing.”
Paxton laughs, delighted. “Why is that the most perfect thing you could’ve done? Getting paid to tell politicians what to do, that’s the dream.”
“Yeah, well I’m too aggressive to ever run for office so this is my way of having the best of both worlds. Plus it is deeply satisfying,” she concedes, a devilish gleam in her eye.
The bartender drops off his drink. Paxton thanks him and takes a sip, shaking his head at her. “You could do whatever you want, Vishwakumar. I’ve always believed that.”
Devi blushes, unnerved by the praise. It’s been a while since she received a patented Paxton compliment. The full force of his attention takes some getting used to.
“So what about you? What do you do now?” She asks eagerly, fiddling with the straw in her vodka soda.
Paxton winces, looking down and then up again. “Would you believe me if I told you I was a history teacher?”
“Shut. Up.” That is delightful . It’s the best thing she’s ever heard. “How the hell did that happen? I mean, you hated Mr. Shapiro’s class.”
“Yeah, but then I got to USC and I took this modern History class with the most amazing professor. She really went out of her way to find non-traditional teaching methods for the class and everything just...stuck. She hooked me up with audiobooks and I would listen to them while I was working out,” Paxton lights up as he explains changing his major and eventually settling on secondary education with a focus on history. It’s the perfect job for someone as warmly charming as Paxton, who has always been a natural at putting people at ease and commanding a room.
“I bet all the kids love you.”
“I’ve had some great classes and a few special students who really enjoyed the material. You have to be careful about kids with crushes but...for the most part, it’s the best thing I’ll ever do,” he finishes softly.
Devi laughs, shaking her head. “Of course you have to worry about your students having a crush on you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing, just that you’re the definition of Hot Teacher. I bet you even wear glasses now,” she teases.
“I get headaches if I stare at a screen too long,” Paxton mumbles.
She throws her head back and laughs, probably drawing the attention of the entire bar. Paxton watches, fixated on the slender shape of her neck.
“That does it. You’re a prototypical hot teacher, Paxton, congratulations.”
“You think I’m hot, Devi?” He asks, eyebrow raised and smirk firmly in place.
“Trust me, whether or not I find you attractive has never been the issue,” Devi assures him.
Paxton hums thoughtfully, leaning a little bit closer. “So what was the issue?”
Devi watches a lock of curly black hair fall against his forehead. She can’t help but wonder what it would take to mess up the artfully arranged style into something a little more...unpracticed.
“Timing,” she finally murmurs.
“Probably for the best,” he says, “I was kind of a douche back then.”
His words are accompanied by a devil may care grin but Devi recognizes the veiled apology in his words.
“I was too. Way too self-destructive for my own good.”
High school was a mess, to say the least. She felt like she was the star of a CW teen show and not in the fun Riverdale way. More like the realistic crap they started putting out a couple of years ago. Devi didn’t figure out until too late that she couldn’t use other people as a distraction from her own issues and it resulted in her using both Ben and Paxton as side-shows in the Devi circus. Ben, the poor guy, had a starring role in her psycho-drama as her long-suffering boyfriend. At least Paxton had the good sense to avoid her his senior year, except for some choice instances that Devi still has a hard time forgetting so many years later.
“You had a lot going on, Vishwakumar, don’t sell yourself short,” Paxton says. “I don’t know anyone as strong as you are.”
“That’s not always a good thing, though,” she replies. “I had to learn how to let myself fall apart before I could start putting myself back together.”
Paxton listens, expression open and attentive. They were just flirting twenty seconds ago and now he’s got her talking about her past trauma just like that. Not for the first time she wonders if he has Jedi mind powers. But then, she thinks, this is just who Paxton is. This is what she loves about him. Paxton’s always been there for her, even when he perhaps shouldn’t have been, has always been a safe harbor for her to go to when things got too hard. Even when they barely knew each other he was patiently asking her questions, getting her to open up in ways she never has with anyone else. Before or since.
“And now? Have you put yourself back together?”
Devi shrugs. “I’d classify myself as firmly a work in progress.”
“Well I’ve got good news for you, Devi,” Paxton raises his drink towards her. “We can work with that.”
They cheers each other and take a long drink, settling in.
~
An hour later and Devi is warmly tipsy, settled against Paxton’s side, trying not to shoot vodka through her nose from laughter.
“That,” she takes a heaving breath. “did not happen. I don’t believe you.”
“It one hundred percent did!” Paxton laughs. “Trent stole a golf cart at Rebecca’s wedding and drove it into the pond. During the toast.”
“There’s no way,” she shakes her head.
“Swear to god. He went flying.”
“What was he even doing there?” Devi asks incredulously.
“Trent and Becca are like, weirdly close. They have been since we were kids. She likes him more than me most days.”
Devi considers him faux-seriously. “He does have better hair than you.”
Paxton’s hand flies to his head as if shielding his hair from her criticism. “I can’t believe you just said that to me. To us .”
Devi laughs again and slaps his bicep— it’s still firm and toned— which somehow turns into her hand sliding down his arm, finally coming to rest on his wrist. Paxton watches her movement carefully. The heat in those hazel eyes when he looks up at her through his eyelashes makes her squirm. Suddenly all the light-hearted banter between them drains away, leaving only blistering tension.
Like she said, attraction has never been their problem.
Devi feels caught in his gaze as if every nerve in her body is on high alert. She can feel everything . From the warmth of his hand, resting on her bare knee, to the swish of her green dress as the AC of the bar swishes it around her legs. She’s tucked herself into the vee of Paxton’s thighs so she’s completely bracketed by his presence.
“Devi…” he says, calling her attention back to him.
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m gonna kiss you, at least I really want to, and I just wanted to ask your opinion on that before I did something stupid,” Paxton leans into her space, swishing her hair with the force of his exhalations.
“It’s my professional opinion that you should totally do that.”
He chuckles. “I don’t think I could afford your professional opinion.”
“Consider this pro bono,” Devi answers before she closes the space between them and kisses him herself.
He surges into her immediately, coaxing her mouth open, allowing her to taste the bite of whiskey on his tongue. Devi brings her hands into his messy hair as Paxton pulls her to stand between his legs. The strength of his palms grasping at her waist, crushing the fabric of her dress, makes her gasp.
They’re devouring each other.
Devi’s senses are full of him. Paxton’s tongue runs against hers in a sensuous rhythm that has her clutching her thighs together. His left hand drifts around her waist and onto her back, dipping dangerously low, clutching . She feels the wetness settling into her panties and her cunt clenches around nothing. Devi pushes herself onto her tiptoes and presses into his chest, trying to get as close as possible.
It’s Paxton who pulls away, just enough so they can breathe, settling his forehead against hers. “I think we should get out of here,” he whispers.
Devi nods and hums in agreement, leaning back in for another kiss. Paxton stops her.
“I need real words, Devi,” he says forcefully. “Because if we do this I need to know you’re not going to regret it. I can’t— I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you woke up tomorrow and hated me.”
“Paxton Hall-Yoshida,” Devi growls, “if you don’t take me home with you right now I will key your car and send you a glitter bomb in the mail.”
At that, the man stands and grabs her sweater off the back of her chair. “I’ll close our tab, you call a Lyft.”
Paxton gives her his address, not too far from the bar, and Devi calls the Lyft with shaking fingers. She can’t believe this is happening. Of all the bars in LA, Devi found the one that Paxton frequents. She looks him up and down, taking in the restless tapping of his fingers against the bar, the way he’s shifting his stance and holding his jacket in front of his crotch so no one sees the prominent erection there.
“Fuck me…” Devi whispers, although not quietly enough because Paxton side-eyes her with a smirk and fucking winks at her.
Damn the Lyft, she’s about to get on her knees in front of this entire bar.
“Good to go?” Devi’s jolted out of her lust-filled haze by Paxton’s hand on her elbow.
She checks her phone. “It should be here any minute, let’s head outside.”
It’s uncharacteristically chilly tonight, forcing Paxton to put on his jacket to ward off the cold. Devi huddles into his arm, waiting for the Lyft to come down the street, but Paxton quickly positions her in front of him, his chest pressing into her back and his arms wrapping around her, holding her close.
Devi sighs in contentment at the proffered warmth. And pushes her backside into his crotch. Paxton groans into her ear.
“You’d better stop that,” he whispers, but he pushes his hardness back into her so she knows he doesn’t mean it. Devi’s eyes roll shut at the sensation.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll pull your dress up and fuck you right here on the street.”
Their Lyft pulls up before Devi can beg Paxton to follow through on his threat.
The presence of another person forces them both to calm down. The driver is nice and polite, a gender-fluid person with purple hair, who asks them innocuous questions about their night and remarks on the weather. Paxton carries the brunt of the conversation, with Devi chiming in occasionally. He runs his index finger over her open palm the entire time, slowly driving her crazy.
Her brain shorts out a little bit and the next thing she knows Paxton is unlocking his front door and showing her inside. He flicks the light on without looking. Nosy by nature, Devi catalogs the neutral tones, the pile of graded tests on the hall table, the intense feeling that a person inhabits this space, and has for a long time.
Paxton takes her sweater and places it next to his leather jacket on a hook. She steps further into his living room and picks up a picture of Paxton and Rebecca from his high school graduation. It’s the boy she knew, the boy she’s thought about off and on for years, smiling and holding his sister close but still looking the tiniest bit sad.
“I always held out hope, you know. That we’d see each other again and I’d get to show you I figured myself out, got my shit together,” he says, coming up next to her.
Devi looks up at him, at this man who looks so much like the boy who gave her his heart without asking anything in return, who has somehow become everything she thought he could be and nothing she could have expected, and she wonders again at the improbable nature of the universe.
What are the odds that they’re here, together, right now? Does it even matter?
She sets down the picture and turns to face him fully. Paxton passively watches as trails her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, bringing them into the center of his chest to unbutton his shirt. Devi scratches her nails over his chest intermittently as she works her way down, causing his breath to hitch. Devi smiles to herself, she’s always enjoyed the rush of power you get during sex, of having someone completely at your mercy with just a touch. Shirt unbuttoned, Paxton pushes it down off his arms, letting it fall on the floor and revealing tons of tanned skin. Sparse black hair populates his chest now but he’s definitely still as lean as ever.
Devi leans in and ghosts her mouth over his chest, skimming her hands around his back. She gets momentarily distracted by the masculine smell of his skin, the light taste of sweat when she darts her tongue out to tease.
Paxton squeezes her ass to get her attention, making Devi wonder how she never knew Paxton Hall-Yoshida was such an ass man.
“Devi, I’m not doing this on my living room couch,” he says, voice strained.
Devi darts up for a kiss, causing Paxton to groan and pull her closer. He threads a hand into her hair, keeping her in place so he can explore her mouth. She moans at the expert slide of his tongue against hers.
When he breaks the kiss to mouth across her jaw and down her neck, sucking with delightful pressure but never hard enough to leave a mark, she says, “I think the couch is a great idea.”
“We’re not teenagers anymore, Devi,” Paxton reminds her, “And I’m planning on taking my time with you.”
Devi shudders and follows when he pulls her hand in the direction of his bedroom. Paxton walks backward, belying the comfort he feels in his home. His eyes never stop roaming over her figure, so intensely it’s like a physical touch.
There’s a lamp on in Paxton’s room, showing a large bed, dark furniture, and pretty blue walls. More pictures, too. She ignores all of this in favor of a much more pleasurable object of study. Mainly, kissing Paxton as he lays her down on his bed.
His hands ghost over her dress, under it to skim over her bare thighs, and suddenly all she wants in the world is to feel his hands and mouth over every inch of her body. Devi sits up and undoes the side zipper, prompting Paxton to pull the garment from her body, leaving Devi in nothing but a bra and panties.
His eyes dart all over her body, from her dilated pupils and luscious lips, down to her breasts that he literally aches to lavish attention upon and lower still to her cunt, covered by sensible gray underwear that has a significant wet spot in the center.
“God, Devi, I want you so bad,” Paxton’s voice is hoarse and his hands clench into the sheets with the urge to grab and caress.
“You got me,” she says, wrapping her legs around her waist and undulating her hips against his lower stomach shamelessly.
He clenches his eyes shut and lets her do that for a few moments, relishing in the sweet heat of her pressing against him fucking finally . But soon the pressure is too much and he needs her to stop. If Devi keeps this up, Paxton is gonna skip some crucial steps and that would just be unforgivable. Not when she deserves the absolute best he can give, not a quick fuck that just anybody could give her.
Having her here in his bed feels like history and prophecy all at once and Paxton needs to make this night as unforgettable for her as it already is for him.
Paxton puts his hands on her thighs, impossibly soft, and pushes her legs down off his waist. Devi whimpers.
“One thing at a time, honey, I got you,” he shushes, going to his forearms so he can nose his way up her neck and mouth at her jaw.
“Paxton,” Devi pleads, her hips still rolling, searching for any kind of relief to the pressure building inside her.
“You trust me?”
Devi gives him an incredulous look. “Of course.”
Paxton looks at her with hungry eyes and, shit, Devi’s excited for whatever’s coming next.
“Take your bra off for me,” he orders. Sitting up to give her room. Devi undoes her bra and throws it to the side heedlessly, her nipples pebbling instantly in the cool air. Paxton groans, entranced.
She is perfect.
“Uh, Paxton?” Her voice calls him back like a siren song. He rips his eyes away from her breasts to look at her face. Her lips are curved into a smile and her eyes are mischievous. “You still in there? I know I’m awesome but…”
He shakes his head and laughs, pressing a kiss to her smiling lips, totally lacking in any finesse but just wanting to feel that smirk against him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you to savor the moment?”
“I’d rather savor the feeling of your dick inside me,” she arches an eyebrow. She giggles at the look on his face like he’s offended she wants to skip the opener and go straight for the headline show. But she has, literally, never been a patient person.
“You’re a brat,” he tells her. Devi shrugs, that’s definitely true. Paxton sucks on her earlobe, making her moan loudly. “Let me make you feel good, Devi,” Paxton breathes into her ear.
Devi nods, desperate. She just needs something, anything, to relieve this emptiness inside her. She loses all sense of time as he works his way down her body, sucking on her nipples one at a time to the point of pain, rubbing his hand over her cunt with her panties still on, building up that wetness to the point that it drips off of her.
Paxton kisses down her chest, following the soft trail of hair from her belly button down to the waistband of her panties. He stops there, breathes in the heady scent of her. Devi squirms under him, clenching at the sheets. Paxton takes a moment, centers himself. He’s so hard it hurts. It’s an indescribable feeling in his gut, this instinct to bury himself inside her.
He pulls her panties off quickly, briefly admiring her shapely legs before returning all of his attention to her cunt. It’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
“So pretty,” The force of his breath on her lips makes her twitch and stutter his name. “And all wet...who did that to you, honey?”
Finally, finally , he brings his hand up and collects some of the wetness that’s gathered at her entrance before moving his thumb up to circle over her clit. The sounds she’s making are so beautiful.
“You-you did that. All for you, Paxton,” Devi says. “ Please touch me, oh my god.”
He hums and presses his mouth to her. Jesus Christ but Paxton could die happily right here. Above him, he hears Devi moan.
His mouth covers her cunt entirely as he kisses her, sucking at her lips before moving to her clit. Devi thrashes. His pace is relentless, an onslaught of pleasure she was unprepared for. Paxton moves his right hand from where it holds her thigh open for him and thrusts two fingers inside her, curling up and stroking at her walls. Her leg curls around his shoulder, falling over his back. Paxton keeps up his assault.
“Paxton,” she moans his name and it’s music.
He loses track of time, lost in the taste of her, the preview of what her cunt will feel like around his cock playing out on his fingers, and before he knows it Devi is calling out a warning.
“I-- oh my god-- I’m going to cum.”
Paxton hums around her clit in encouragement, thrusts his fingers firmly once more, and that does it. She’s lost. Devi arches her back, forcing her cunt into his mouth, and groans her release.
She feels his kisses rain down softly on her face as she comes back to herself. Paxton’s whispering sweet nothings into her ear, about how good she tastes, how pretty she looks when she cums, how he can’t believe she’s here with him right now.
Devi sits up, pushing Paxton back against the pillows. He goes willingly, watching enraptured as she kneels over his lap, straddling him. The head of his cock brushes over her wet lips and they both shudder.
“Condoms are in the nightstand,” Paxton tells her.
Devi has never moved as fast she does to find a condom in the drawer, rip it open, and slide it down Paxton’s erection. She has half a mind to put the condom on with her mouth but figures there’s always next time.
He just gave her the best oral sex of her life, this will not be a one-time thing.
Her hand grasps his cock, angling it inside her, and Paxton tries to control his breathing. His hands grab at her hips, pulling her down onto him forcefully, and burying inside her. It’s heaven. Paxton noses her face up from where she’s studying where their bodies join and kisses her hungrily.
Devi takes a moment to get used to the thick feel of him, savoring his heady kisses, before rocking against him experimentally. Paxton thrusts up to meet her, making fireworks explode inside her. Devi plants her hands onto his chest, blunt nails digging in, and begins to move in earnest.
“Yeah, that’s my girl,” he praises, clutching at her ass as she moves against him. Devi presses her hands into his chest and shudders. God, but he feels amazing moving inside her like this. She figure-eights her hips as she moves up and down, each movement punctuated by Paxton thrusting his hips against hers.
He feels like he’s going to explode any minute from the onslaught of sensation. Her clenching, warm heat is undoing him, as is the front-row seat to her small breasts bouncing with every motion. Her nipples are begging him to suck on them, so he does. Devi moans and threads her fingers into his hair, picking up the pace. Paxton can feel she’s close too, can guess from how her cunt pulses around his dick intermittently.
His mouth leaves her nipples and he looks into her eyes, needing to see what Devi looks like when she comes. His hand goes between them so he can get to her clit, giving her that final stimulation. Paxton watches her face go slack with pleasure and her eyes fall shut as the orgasm rips through her.
Only once she’s done does he wrap his arms around her and rut up into her. It only takes a few thrusts for him to empty himself into the condom, surrounded by Devi. It’s the best orgasm he’s ever had.
They collapse against the bed, still joined. His cock twitches inside her, causing little aftershocks of pleasure to spasm through Devi’s body.
“You good?” Paxton asks, stroking his hands up and down her back.
“Perfect. You?”
“Same.”
She presses her mouth into his shoulder, smiling. They sit like that for a few moments before Devi pulls off him and Paxton takes care of the condom, tying it off and throwing it away. He points her in the direction of the bathroom to pee and hands her a t-shirt to change into.
Devi stares at herself in the mirror, this freshly fucked and glowing version of herself, and asks herself why she didn’t even hesitate to say yes when he asked her to spend the night. The only answer is that it’s Paxton, and he still has a hold over her after all these years.
He makes her want to be romantic and spontaneous like she was when she was young.
She slips on the old, faded t-shirt he gave her and inhales the musky scent of him that clings to it. He’s waiting for her when she comes back into the bedroom, plugging their phones into chargers on the nightstand, and turning off the lamp as she crosses the room to him.
“I’ve been waiting to do that since I was sixteen,” Paxton says into the dark as she slips back into bed and lets him gather her into his arms.
“We would have been a disaster at sixteen,” Devi replies, settling against him, feeling completely comfortable.
“Probably,” he agrees. “At least we’re here now.”
Devi brings his hand up to her lips, presses a kiss onto the back of his hand. “No regrets?”
“Never.”
~
Devi wakes up entirely too early the next morning but otherwise warm and pleasantly sore. She’s on her side, Paxton spooned behind her with his strong arms wrapped around her waist, one arm curling up between her breasts. Usually Devi hates this part, hates having a guy all over her while she’s trying to sleep. She tosses and turns in bed too much, is a textbook restless sleeper. Devi has honestly expected to wake up on the edge of the bed as per usual when she hooks up with someone. But then, she should’ve known Paxton would be different. He makes her feel safe and comfortable in all things, of course he’d do the same in sleep too.
She shifts, grumbling, wondering what the hell woke her up. It wasn’t natural, that’s for sure, her body is fighting wakefulness even now.
“ You thought you’d found a friend,
To take you out of this place
Someone you could lend a hand
In return for grace ,”
The deep crooning of U2 sounds through the speakers of Paxton’s phone, playing a very familiar tune.
Devi squeezes her eyes shut against the sudden swell of tears. It’s her dad’s favorite song. And apparently the song Paxton has set as his daily alarm. It’s been a long time since her dad died, and while she doesn’t think about him every day there are still bad days. Ones where she purposefully plays this song and hides in her room, looks at pictures of Dad, and cries in peace. Grief, she’s learned, never goes away. You just find somewhere to put it, a safe place to store it until you need the cathartic release of letting all your pain out into the open.
Today, of all days, cannot be one of those days.
“ It’s a beautiful day… ”
Her eyes open and she stares ahead at Paxton’s blue walls. Something wells up inside her, a certainty she hasn’t felt in a long time, something she first felt when she thought a coyote was her reincarnated father. Sure, that turned out to not be true but this...Devi is certain about this. This song playing right now, the morning after she reunited with Paxton Hall-Yoshida, the one who got away...it’s a sign .
Paxton’s breathing changes as he wakes up, drawn out of sleep by the chorus. He groans, pressing his face into her hair.
“Shit, sorry, I didn’t turn it off last night,” he mumbles, still mostly asleep. His arm squeezes around her once and then he relaxes with a sigh.
“It’s fine,” she murmurs back, hesitant to break the peace of this moment. “I love this song.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. It was my dad’s favorite,” Devi explains. Paxton presses a kiss behind her ear in response.
“This is a great way to start a day,” Paxton says.
Devi turns over in his arms to smile at him, running her hand through his crow’s nest of hair. She was right, it is deeply satisfying to mess it up. “It’s a great song.”
Paxton shakes his head, an amused look on his face. “Wasn’t talking about the song, Vishwakumar.”
The smile that overtakes Devi’s face is big and blinding, dazzling Paxton with its brilliance. How is she so fucking beautiful? He can’t help himself, he kisses her, morning breath be damned. It’s a sweet kiss, slow and full of promise.
“Hey,” he pulls back, loving the way her eyes are slow to open and her head lifts from the pillow slightly to chase his lips. “Wanna get breakfast?”
“Definitely.”