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The bass thudded like a pulse straight from the heart of victory, floor trembling beneath her heels as Smriti swayed with half-lidded eyes and a grin that refused to dim. Hair tumbling past her shoulders, she spun through the clusters of teammates with arms half-raised, brushing shoulders and elbows, caught in the rush of every cheer and clink. Her chest still buzzed with the leftover sprint of lifting the cup, that trophy weightless now compared to the sheer thrum of euphoria.
She twisted around Richa, high-fived Georgia mid-spin, let Renuka splash soda across her sleeve and just laughed, mouth split wide as confetti got stuck to her gloss. Floodlights outside the rooftop lounge cast reflections over glass walls, the skyline drunk on colour and noise, her world dipped in gold tonight.
Smriti caught sight of the staff by the buffet, grinning with plates in hand, coaches with loosened ties nursing beers, shoulders slouched in tired pride. So many hands behind the win, so many faces now lit with relief and something soft. She felt it bloom inside her, that tight stretch of happiness not just for herself, but for all of them.
But then her smile froze.
Across the floor, wedged into the corner booth like she was observing the chaos from the edge of some inside joke, sat Ellyse Perry. Blonde slicked back, crisp collar open just enough to flash her collarbone, mocktail glass tilted in one hand, the stem balancing between fingers with the kind of casual grace Smriti could never quite replicate. Her legs were folded clean under the table, one heel tapping slow time to the music, though her mouth hadn’t moved all night. That laugh Smriti loved, nowhere.
Her feet stopped on instinct, the sudden stillness blooming from a flicker of surprise she didn’t see coming
What the hell.
She’d made her come all the way from Sydney to Bangalore, convinced her it would be worth it, promised a hell of a night. And Ellyse looked like she was at some bloody PTA meet. Smriti squinted, swiped her forehead, and shoved through the crowd, shoulder-checking a junior who yelped. Her eyes never left that booth.
“Really?” she bit out, planting both hands on the table like an accusation. “This is you celebrating?”
Ellyse blinked up at her, then lifted the glass a few centimetres, swirled the contents, took a slow sip. “What d'you mean?” she said, voice all summer Sunday, accent unbothered. “This is me havin' a great time. See?” Another sip, exaggerated now. “Mmm. So festive.”
Smriti snorted. “You’re killing my buzz. Like absolutely taking a sledgehammer to it.”
“You’re very fragile then, Mandhana,” Ellyse said, eyes glinting behind the rim. “Must be the altitude.”
Smriti narrowed her eyes. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
Ellyse didn’t answer. Just quirked a brow like she hadn’t but maybe she had, and the uncertainty itched under Smriti’s skin. She clicked her tongue, already circling the booth, every step deliberate, hair sticking slightly to her nape as the music changed gears. “Alright, fine. You wreck my mood, I wreck yours.”
“Smriti…” Ellyse said, wary now, straightening as she caught the shift in pace, but it was too late.
Smriti dropped onto her lap with a thunk, all knees and grin, elbow smacking the table edge as she wriggled her hips down with pure vengeance. Ellyse squealed, glass sloshing as she leaned back hard, laughter finally spilling out of her like a shaken bottle. “Bloody hell!”
“Shh,” Smriti grinned, settling deeper, her spine sinking back into Ellyse’s front, head tipping to the side. “You earned it.”
Ellyse laughed again, louder this time, her arm curling instinctively around Smriti's waist, helpless to do anything else. “You don’t give up, do you?” she laughed, shifting just enough to hook her chin over Smriti’s shoulder.
“Nope,” Smriti said, dragging the syllables with a grin as she shook her head slowly. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t tilt the whole thing. Sure, we all showed up, but you—you dragged that match back by the collar. You gave us the space to breathe. You made them crack. I just cleaned it up. They’re out there yelling my name, but I know damn well why we’re holding that cup. And if I’ve gotta pick where to be tonight, I’d still rather be right here.”
Ellyse’s breath pushed against her skin, her sigh muffled as she leaned closer, brushing her nose along the curve of Smriti’s neck. “You smell good,” she murmured, barely loud enough to register over the beat.
Smriti cocked an eyebrow, mouth hitching at the corner. “Maybe because you’re the one who brought that scent back from Melbourne. Said it was ‘classy, unlike your locker room stench.’”
Ellyse kissed her neck without warning. The jolt made Smriti giggle as she slapped at the hand creeping under her top at her waist. “Ellyse, stop,” she half-squealed, voice too amused to sound stern.
Another kiss, this time right on her cheek. Smriti turned and caught her in the act, brows up. “I said stop,” she muttered, letting her fingers slide between Ellyse’s and knot together.
Ellyse slid her free hand off the table, sliding through the slit drawn high along Smriti’s thigh, thumb brushing bare skin in a path that sent a jolt through Smriti’s whole body. Her laughter died, eyes darting to Ellyse’s with a sudden tension. “Ellyse, that’s enough—come on, it’s not funny anymore,” she whispered, hardly more than a breath, but Ellyse’s hand kept moving. Fingers slipped between Smriti’s thighs, urging them apart, and she cupped the soft heat at the center, the barrier of thin fabric doing nothing to hide the way Smriti’s hips jerked at the contact. “Please, just—stop,” Smriti stammered, voice hushed and cracking.
Ellyse leaned close, whispered for her to hush, but Smriti’s heartbeat tumbled faster, her eyes flicking everywhere, searching for the slip of a stare or the angle of a camera. The moment Ellyse’s fingers began to move in slow circles over the thin cotton, Smriti’s gasp escaped before she could swallow it. Her hold on Ellyse’s hand grew desperate, voice tumbling out in fragments. “Stop, stop, stop, plea—”
“This… Ellyse, you’re making me uncomfortable, yaar,” Smriti whispered, stuttering on the word as Ellyse’s hand didn’t falter. Her fingertips found the swell of Smriti’s pussy under the cotton. She pressed until the cotton dipped, molding to the shape of her cunt. Smriti’s grip tightened around Ellyse’s arm, hips shifting as Ellyse’s fingers edged closer, tracing the seam of her panties, touch deepening each second.
“Stop,” Smriti breathed, voice thin, but her knees parted anyway when Ellyse’s knuckles slipped under elastic, fingertip grazing the fevered edge of her pussy lips. Her gasp left her open, sound lifting before the background noise could bury it. A burst of laughter echoed near the drinks table, but no one looked their way. “We’re not alone, dammit—” Ellyse’s mouth found her ear, voice a hush. “I’ll stop if you say the words. Say ‘Ellyse Alexandra Perry, stop this right now.’”
Smriti’s breath stuttered. “Ellyse Alexandra Perry, please—” Her voice cracked mid-syllable as Ellyse’s fingers slipped in, grazing her pussy lips with a heat that tore through her spine. Her grip tightened around Ellyse’s hand, eyes wide, hips jerking. “Don’t stop,” she gasped, voice unsteady, her knees spreading wider as her breath hitched again. Smriti’s gasp turned guttural, a whimper spilling out as her hips shuddered, “Fuck…” Panties stretched, cotton dragged aside, Ellyse’s palm flush with her mound, thumb circling, rubbing her clit in lazy swirls.
Ellyse’s fingers slipped in, parting her folds, sliding two fingers straight into her slick heat, drawing out a sob from Smriti’s throat. “Ellyse, please—” but the words dissolved, her nails raking down Ellyse’s arm, walls clenching around the fingers that filled her. Ellyse thrust inside, wrist angled up, the heel of her hand grinding against Smriti’s swollen clit with every push. Someone shouted over the music about missing ice, a cheer answered from across the room. The wet sounds rose, joined by Smriti’s half-swallowed moans, hips rolling into Ellyse’s hand.
She curled her hand in tight, forcing the knuckles in until her palm met the heat swelling against her. Smriti’s thighs trembled, knees thrown wide, her head dropping back against Ellyse’s shoulder. “Pagal hai tu… seriously…” she choked out, voice barely a whisper, breath steaming against Ellyse’s cheek. Ellyse drove her fingers in hard, each thrust pushing a new shudder through Smriti’s core.
Smriti’s hips moved in jagged circles, riding Ellyse’s hand, breath a ragged chant of moans and curses. “God, don’t… don’t stop…” Ellyse’s fingers curled, pressing up inside, stroking her inner walls, the pads dragging slick, swollen tissue. Smriti’s sounds climbed, moans breaking free, nails digging into Ellyse’s thigh, sweat slicking her brow, breath catching as Ellyse’s thumb circled faster.
Ellyse’s wrist flexed, the thrusts kept hitting, fingers plunging in, the heel of her palm crushing down against Smriti’s throbbing clit. Her fingers curled mid-thrust, flicking against the spot that made Smriti’s knees shake harder. Smriti jerked, body tensing, a sharp gasp bursting from her lips. “M—maa ki…” her voice quaked, every muscle drawn taut, her eyes rolled back as Ellyse’s fingers dragged across the spot that made her legs kick under the table. Ellyse leaned in, hair brushing Smriti’s cheek, breath hot.
The fingers moved deeper, curling, stroking that spongy place, every motion sending Smriti’s body arching, mouth open, a string of gasps spilling out, each one louder, less contained. The room pulsed with music and easy talk, none of it touching what was happening under the table. The thrusts kept deepening, Ellyse’s thumb dragging the bud in circles, her palm smeared with slick from root to heel, Smriti’s hips working to meet every drive, thighs flexing as her cunt clenched around the fingers. “Ellyse, Ellyse, fuck—” the words came out half-strangled.
Ellyse leaned in, voice calm, “I’ve got you… just like this.” Smriti’s cunt spasmed around the fingers, and before she could stop herself, her palm rose to cradle Ellyse’s face. Her thumb ground the nub, fingers pistoning in, knuckles pressing the lips wide, slick pouring down her palm. Smriti’s cries climbed, breath breaking on the edge, head thrown back, every sound more desperate, body begging with every arch and shudder. Her nails left red lines on Ellyse’s skin.
Smriti shook, whole body trembling as Ellyse never let up, thrusting, stroking, twisting her wrist just so, palm rubbing tight over her clit, the ache rising fast with every stroke. “Ellyse, I’m—oh god, I’m—” Her moan spiraled up, shattering as her body seized, orgasm crashing through her, pussy clamping down, slick flooding Ellyse’s fingers, the slick growing between her legs, body bucking hard, every nerve sparking, world narrowing to a white-hot, breathless burst.
Smriti shot to her feet, legs catching on the edge of the table, nearly toppling a half-empty mocktail. Her thigh bumped a chair, her step hitching as the aftershocks kept her knees soft. Her gait was off-balance as she pushed past the nearest knot of players, someone reaching to pat her shoulder only to miss by a breath. A junior called her name with a mouth full of cake, but Smriti kept walking like the room had vanished. The music followed her to the door, but she didn’t hear it.
She stepped into the hallway, one heel catching on the carpet as she turned. Her palm landed against the wall, and her mouth opened like she meant to curse but forgot the word. She bent slightly, hand braced on her knee, breath catching with a laugh she swallowed halfway.
Behind her, Ellyse burst through the door with the urgency of someone chasing a bus. “Wait! Don’t just—can you stop for one second?” Her voice cracked halfway up. “I swear I blacked out or something. That wasn’t a plan. I don’t even—If I explain this, it’ll sound worse, but just—wait.”
Smriti stopped so fast her heel squeaked against the carpet. She turned, hair whipping over her shoulder, eyes flashing even as her voice dropped to a hiss. “Wait? You want me to wait? After you shoved your hand up my—” She stepped close, pointing a finger at Ellyse’s chest. “You just—” their whisper caught for a second, mostly because she wanted Ellyse to suffer just a little for turning them into a live-action scandal under the dessert table, “—molested me under a buffet table, you psycho.”
Ellyse backed up half a step. She raised both hands in surrender, fingers slightly curled, still slick. “Ooo, ooo, ooo—nonononono, if I recall correctly—” she tilted one hand, letting the slick catch the light, “—you said don’t stop.”
The flush spread across Smriti’s cheeks, mouth left open mid-breath as if Ellyse had knocked words out of her. She glared at Ellyse with her lips pressed together and spun on her heel without a word. She reached the elevator, hit the button so hard it lit up twice, then crossed her arms with a huff, shifting her thighs just enough to unstick the soaked fabric between them.
Ellyse rubbed her scalp like she was trying to unscrew the top of her own head. “Why am I like this,” she muttered under her breath.
As the elevator opened, Smriti stepped inside and pressed the button hard enough to rattle – but as the doors started to shut, her hand snapped out to stop them, “I’m not — asking you to follow me,” she said, eyes on the panel. “But you’ve got five seconds to decide if you want to, — and — yes, I meant that both ways.”