She sighed, running a hand through her hair. The desk needed fixing before it collapsed completely. And there was only one person who could help.
She grabbed her phone and dialed.

Emma: "I need your help."

Ashish: "What happened?"

Emma: "My desk is falling apart."

Ashish: "Is that really urgent?"

Emma: "Yes."

A pause. Then his deep voice, slow and teasing.
Ashish: "Alright. I’ll be there in an hour."
Emma exhaled, tossing her phone onto the bed. She wasn’t sure why she felt restless. Maybe it was frustration. Or maybe… something else.

An Hour Later

The doorbell rang. Right on time.
Emma opened the door to find Ashish standing there, effortlessly handsome. His tousled hair looked like he had just rolled out of bed, his dark eyes scanning her lazily. He wore a fitted black T-shirt, his toned muscles visible beneath the fabric.
His lips curled into a smirk. "First, coffee. Then work."
Emma frowned. "What? You haven’t had coffee yet? What took you so long?"
Ashish leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Had some urgent business."
Emma folded her arms, narrowing her eyes. "Urgent business? On a Sunday morning? Or was it some girl you didn’t want to leave your bed?"
Ashish didn’t answer immediately, his smirk deepening.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Fine. Don’t tell me."
She stormed into the kitchen, making coffee for him. He followed her, leaning casually against the counter, watching her.
Ashish: "You’re acting cute when you’re mad."
Emma shot him a glare, shoving the coffee mug into his hands. "Drink fast. I don’t have all day."

The Repair Begins… and So Does the Tension. Emma stood with her arms crossed as Ashish inspected the desk. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"This is going to take time."
Then, without warning, he pulled off his T-shirt.
Emma's breath caught.
His broad shoulders, sculpted chest, and strong arms glistened faintly in the morning light. She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to look away, but her eyes betrayed her—flickering back to him.
Ashish smirked, clearly noticing.
"You used to be different when we were together," she blurted out. "Or was it all just an act?"
Ashish didn’t look up, continuing to work, his fingers tightening around the screwdriver. "Are we really doing this now?"
Emma scoffed. "You’re avoiding the question."
He finally turned to her, stepping closer. His proximity made her heart pound.
"If you want to talk about the past, let’s talk properly." His voice was low, dangerous.
Emma took a step back, but he caught her wrist, pulling her close. Her body collided with his, her soft curves pressing against his bare skin.
A sharp breath escaped her lips.
Ashish’s grip tightened. His eyes darkened. "You were staring, Emma. Thinking about something?"
Emma’s lips parted, but no words came out.
He leaned in, his lips inches from her ear. "You were remembering, weren’t you?"
His fingers trailed down her arm, igniting goosebumps in their wake. "How I used to trace every inch of your skin. How my body covered yours. How you trembled beneath me."
Emma shuddered.
His lips brushed against her jaw, teasing. "How your voice used to echo in the dark… the way you begged me not to stop."
Her knees felt weak, but she refused to fall.
"You always wanted more," he continued, his voice thick with desire. "Always teasing, always testing me. You loved it when I lost control."
Emma’s breathing turned shallow.
Ashish smirked. "You know exactly how much strength I have. No one knows your body better than me. And I bet…" He leaned even closer, his breath hot against her neck. "You want me to remind you, don’t you?"
Emma's heart pounded in her chest.
For a second, she almost gave in. Almost let him win.
But then, she took a deep breath and shoved him away, her face flushed.
"Fix the damn desk, Ashish."
He chuckled, picking up the screwdriver. "As you wish, sweetheart. But you should know… I never start something I don’t finish."
Emma turned away, pretending to be unaffected. But the heat in her body, the ache between her thighs, told her otherwise.

To be continued…