Bhavana lifted the phone to take a picture, her face stared back at her. What the—? Swipe, another one of her. The realization landed a moment later, she had grabbed his phone. She looked around guiltily, searching for him to return the phone. Really? You don’t want to see the rest?

A naughty smile lit her face and she ran out to the beach, rounded a corner and rested against the wooden walls of a coco hut. She looked around. No one in sight. She brought the phone up and started swiping.

Her fingers tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear—the mole behind her ear—laughing at something, head thrown back—close up of her eyes—her lips—more eyes—her back—tightening the lace of her ghagra—Shit—her leg with the ghagra raised to her thighs as she adjusted the payal at her ankles—lots of cleavage. She nearly dropped the phone, turning a deep red. He’s going to be the death of you.

She couldn’t help herself. She raised the phone and looked at the last picture again. Bit her tongue, thinking, staring at her cleavage. And smiled.

She didn’t know it then, but, at the same time, Eli was in his coco hut, having discovered the swap just a few minutes before she did. He sat on the edge of the bed swiping.

His face mid-laugh—That stupid grin—The damn dimple on the left cheek—forearms—his jaw from below and to the side, the angle of someone standing close and looking up—him coming out of the sea that morning—naughty girl— face closeup, wet hair and water dripping off his chin—chest closeup—stomach—swimming trunks closeup. Well, well, well.

He set the phone down on the bed. Stared out at the sea. Picked the phone up again and looked at the swimming trunks closeup picture again. Smiled.

***

She found him near the bar at the edge of the reception. Walking up to him, she tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and she held out his phone. Something flashed across his face that she couldn’t place as his hand took a hold of the phone. He pulled. She didn’t let go. Didn’t break eye contact either. He pulled again. She wouldn’t let go. An eyebrow raised in an unasked question

“I left yours in my room,” he said.

“You’re not getting yours till I get mine.”

“My place then?” He said, smiling wickedly.

“You wish. Just the phone.”

They walked back along the beach side by side, neither talking, neither taking their hand away when their fingers brushed. She stood outside as he stepped inside his coco hut and retrieved her phone.

He held hers out. She held his up. Fair exchange. They stood fidgeting with their phones, neither looking at the other.

“Just pictures of me?” He said finally, a whisper.

“I didn’t realize I was showing that much skin.”

“Too little,” he said. “In my opinion.”

The kiss knew what it was doing. It was hungry, needy, intense. They stumbled on to the beach. Their tongues danced around each other as his hands moved down to her waist, her back, her ass, pulling her in. Hers went to his chest, his shoulders, his back. Her nails dug in. His hand found the knot of the lace holding her lehenga up.

Her hand over his, stopping him.

“Later.” She said into his lips, refusing to let go of him. “Tonight at 10. On the beach?”

Continue the story in Clicks.

All images are AI generated and do not depict any real person.