CHRIS

The drive back to her apartment was calm. Too calm, considering what had happened just five minutes ago.

After the kiss—thirty seconds, but it felt like a damn lifetime—she pulled away, breathless, and told me to get her out of that alley. I did. I would’ve carried her if she let me. But she walked, head held high, and I followed close, still running on adrenaline.

I was grateful I found her in time. Just thinking about what that bastard almost did made my grip tighten on the wheel. My knuckles burned, split open from breaking his face, and the urge to turn the car around and finish the job gnawed at me.

But I couldn’t let Sarah see how fucking livid I still was.

I glanced at her. She hadn’t said a word since getting into the car. She just stared out the window, fingers curled in her lap, too still.

I wanted to ask if she was okay. I wanted to pull over, make her look at me, tell me what was going on in that sharp mind of hers. But when I asked who he was back in the alley, she refused to answer.

That silence kept me shut.

So I did the only thing I could do for her right now—keep driving. And fight the urge to turn around and break more of his bones.

I spotted her apartment building just up ahead, and my chest tightened. Any second now, she might say she wanted to be alone. I would have to respect that. I knew she needed space, that she might not want to be around any man right now.

Maybe I could at least walk her to her door—

"Can we go somewhere else?"

Her voice cut through my thoughts, and I turned to her. Sarah was already looking at me, her expression unreadable.

"You want to stay somewhere else?" I asked, uncertain.

"Yes."

"Oh, um… okay." I suddenly felt nervous. "I could find a hotel nearby, so it’s easier for you to get back home if—"

"Which hotel are you staying at?"

I hesitated for a second, until she tilted her head slightly. She meant me.

Of course she meant you, idiot, my conscience mocked.

"I… rented an apartment nearby. Close to your building." I scratched the back of my head, bracing myself for her reaction. Any moment now, she might say it was weird or that I shouldn't be all over her. She had already made it clear—we weren’t in Gerlin anymore.

"Okay," she said simply. "Let's go."

I blinked. "You want to stay with me?"

Sarah's gaze didn’t waver. "You don't want me to?" There was a hint of vulnerability in her voice, something so uncharacteristic of my Sarah that it threw me off balance.

"No, of course not," I said quickly. "Let's go."

I didn’t press her for answers. Not yet. I drove in silence until we reached my apartment. I pulled into the driveway of the bungalow I’d rented, cutting the engine before stepping out. The night air had grown colder, but I barely noticed as I jogged around the car to open the door for Sarah.

She didn’t move.

I waited a moment, expecting her to snap out of whatever thoughts had taken hold of her, but when she didn’t, I hesitated before gently reaching for her hand. The touch startled her, and I braced myself for her to pull away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she did the opposite—her fingers tightened around mine, grounding herself in the contact. The unexpected gesture sent a ripple of anxiety through me, but I forced a small smile and used our joined hands to help her out of the car.

The wind picked up slightly, and I noticed the way she shivered. Without thinking, I shrugged off my suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders, making sure it sat properly around her.

That’s when I felt her eyes on me.

I glanced up just in time to catch her staring. She quickly looked away, clearing her throat, as if embarrassed to be caught.

I could have teased her about it—on any other night, I might have—but she was exhausted. She needed rest, not my usual games.

So instead, I took her hand again.

And once again, she didn’t let go.

I gave her fingers a brief, reassuring squeeze before leading her inside.

As we stepped inside, I set my keys down on the counter and let go of her hand, even though I didn’t really want to. I didn’t want her to think too much of it—or maybe I didn’t want to think too much of it.

"Do you need anything?" I asked, watching her closely.

Sarah shook her head. "Water is fine."

I nodded and walked to the fridge, grabbing a glass from the nearby cabinet. I poured the water, placed it on the counter, and stepped back. She took it without a word, drinking slowly before muttering, "Thank you."

Silence stretched between us, thick and charged.

I hesitated before finally asking, "Did you know the man in the alley?"

She inhaled slowly, like she was bracing herself, before giving a small nod.

My stomach tightened. An ex? A crazy boyfriend? The thought made me clench my jaw, but before I could overthink it, she spoke.

"We never dated," she said, like she knew exactly where my mind had gone.

That only confused me more. "Then who—"

"I’d like to drop it," she cut in, her voice quiet but firm.

I exhaled, realizing I’d pushed too far. "Sorry," I muttered.

She shook her head, brushing it off. Then, just as I was about to step back and give her space, she licked her lips, her gaze locking onto mine—heavy, lingering, like she was waiting for something.

"I’d like to take a bath," she murmured, voice softer, slower.

Her gaze didn’t waver, didn’t shift away like it normally would. No, she just stood there, staring at me, the weight of it pressing down on my chest. And for a second—just a second—I felt like she was waiting for something. A reaction. A slip-up perhaps.

I swallowed hard, ignoring the heat creeping up my neck. "Yeah, of course," I said quickly, turning away before my mind could go anywhere it shouldn’t.

I led her down the hall in silence, stopping at the guest room and switching on the light.

"This is the guest room," I said, clearing my throat. "It has a bathroom, so you can use it. I’ll take a shower in my room, but maybe wait until I’m done—I’ll find you a shirt."

She stood at the doorway, staring inside.

"I’m sleeping here," she muttered, almost to herself, like the thought unsettled her.

"You don’t like it?" I asked, frowning. "You can take my room if you want. I don’t mind sleeping here."

She scoffed, surprising me.

"No, I’m fine," she said, but she hesitated again, gripping the doorframe. "I just thought… you know..."

I studied her, trying to piece together what she wasn’t saying.

"What did you think, Sarah?" I asked, my voice quieter now, my stomach tightening.

As she stood there, gripping the doorframe, she let out a quiet breath and shook her head. “Never mind,” she muttered, dismissing whatever she had been about to say. “Can you get my purse? It’s on the counter.”

I didn’t think twice about it. “Yeah, sure.” I turned back toward the kitchen, grabbed her purse, and handed it to her when I returned.

She took it, fingers brushing mine briefly before she stepped back. “Goodnight,” she said, voice clipped.

Before I could even respond, she shut the door in my face.

I stood there for a second, blinking.

What did I do wrong now?

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Goodnight, Sarah,” I murmured, even though I knew she wouldn’t answer.

Turning away, I headed upstairs to my own room, rolling my shoulders to release some of the tension that had built up. As I unbuttoned my shirt, I tried to piece together what had just happened.

I had been a gentleman all night. I didn’t push her. I didn’t ask too many questions. I gave her space because after what happened to her, she needed it. And yet, somehow, she was upset.

What does she want from me?

I sighed again, stripping out of my clothes and grabbing a towel. I needed a quick shower before I found something for her to wear.

I ignored the thought that crept into my head—the thought of how she’d look in nothing but my shirt.

Shaking it off, I stepped into the shower, letting the cold water ground me.

I ran a hand down my face, letting out a slow, frustrated breath as the water cascaded over me. My thoughts were clouded, completely consumed by the fact that Sarah was just a few steps away.

I shouldn’t feel this way.

I shouldn’t be this aware of her.

But my body didn’t seem to care about what I should or shouldn’t feel. I clenched my jaw, ignoring the way my dick was already semi-hard at the mere thought of her.

This was ridiculous.

Get a grip, Chris. Be a gentleman. She needs space.

I exhaled sharply, pressing my palm against the cold tile. Even if it means suffering through blue balls, you’re going to sleep like a decent man tonight.

Just as I forced my thoughts elsewhere, my head snapped up.

The bathroom door was open.

I blinked, stepping out from under the water, telling myself the heat must have been messing with my vision.

Because standing in front of me—in the fucking bathroom—was Sarah.

The sight of her standing there, just inside the bathroom, stole every ounce of breath from my lungs. Water dripped from my hair, sliding down my face as I tried to blink away what had to be some kind of illusion.

But it wasn’t.

She was real.

Sarah.

I whispered her name so softly, I wasn’t even sure if she’d heard me. But she had. I saw the way her lips parted, her breath slowing, yet she didn’t say a word.

Instead, she did something that knocked every last rational thought from my head.

Her hands moved to the hem of her shirt—my suit jacket still draped over her shoulders. And then, with no hesitation, she pushed it off.

I watched, completely still, as it slid to the floor, pooling at her feet.

Then, she lifted her shirt, pulling it over her head, exposing smooth, bare skin.

My breath caught, and I felt my pulse in every part of my body, most of all in my cock, which was already straining, aching—fuck.

She wasn’t stopping.

Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her pants, and in one slow, deliberate movement, she slid them down her legs, leaving herself completely bare in front of me.

I swallowed hard, my entire body tight with tension, my cock throbbing to the point of pain.

She stood there, staring at me. Testing me.

I should look away. I should turn around, grab a towel, be a fucking gentleman.

But all I could do was stand there, my breath heavy, my body on fire, as I fought the most dangerous thought I’d had all night—

If she doesn’t stop me, I won’t be able to stop myself.

Every muscle in my body was wound so tight I thought I might snap.

Sarah was standing in my shower. Naked.

She was close—too fucking close. And I was frozen, my brain struggling to keep up with what was happening.

“S-Sarah… what are you doing?” I stammered, because none of this made sense.

Was she drunk?

No. I would’ve noticed. I kissed her, held her—I would’ve smelled it on her breath.

But she didn’t answer my question. She just kept walking toward me, slow and deliberate, like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

And fuck, I hoped it was me.

Because if this was some dream or fevered hallucination, I was checking myself into therapy the moment I woke up.

She reached for the handle of the glass shower, pulled it open, and stepped inside.

I stopped breathing.

The water hit her skin, sliding down the curves of her body, and I felt my legs stiffen, my cock throbbing in painful anticipation. Somehow, I moved back, my back hitting the tile, because my brain was still trying to figure out if I should stop this—if she was in her right mind.

But the way she looked at me… fuck. There was no hesitation, no fear, no doubt in her expression. Just confidence. Control.

My eyes flickered down before I could stop them, catching the way her nipples stood firm, glistening under the water. My throat went dry. They looked so pink, so hard as though they were waiting for someone to give them a hard lick—

I clenched my jaw.

Focus, Chris.

“Are you okay, love?” My voice was rough, strained.

Her lips twitched, almost like she wanted to smirk, but she stayed quiet—until her eyes dropped lower, my brain short-circuited the moment she dropped her gaze—right to my cock.

“I am,” she said, all innocence.

Then she looked up, her gaze dark, teasing.

“But something tells me you aren’t.”

No fucking kidding.

I was hard—achingly hard—so much so that I could feel the heavy throb of my own pulse.

“Sarah,” I rasped, my voice low, strained, full of warning—of something dangerous.

She just tilted her head, eyes flicking back up to mine, waiting.

Testing me.

And I was hanging on by a goddamn thread.

Her words made my stomach tighten.

She stepped closer, and this time, I didn’t move back. I couldn’t.

“I know what I’m doing.” Her voice was lower now, almost a whisper, and I felt the weight of her gaze dragging over my body, the same way mine had lingered on hers.

Then she touched me.

Her fingers traced the ridges of my abs, featherlight but purposeful, trailing lower. My breath caught, my muscles tensing under her touch. I clenched my jaw, trying to hold on to some semblance of control, but my sanity was hanging on by a thread.

I exhaled sharply when she brushed too close to where I ached for her.

"Or maybe you don’t want me anymore," she murmured, her tone deceptively soft. "Is that it?"

"What?" The word choked out of me, rough and strangled.

She hummed, withdrawing her hand, and the second she did, I felt cold all over again.

"It must be true," she mused, tilting her head. "I’m standing here, bare, ready to be fucked, and you don’t jump on me." She tsked, shaking her head. "That’s not the Chris I know."

She wasn’t wrong.

Past me wouldn’t have hesitated. Past me would’ve had her against this shower wall the second she stepped in.

But fuck, things changed. She wasn’t just some girl. This wasn’t just some fuck.

"It’s not like that," I said, voice tight.

Her eyes darkened, anger flashing between the lust and something deeper—hurt.

"It’s definitely like that."

"No, it’s not—"

"You wanted me at the club," she cut in, voice sharp. "And if I wasn’t too stubborn, we would’ve already been fucking for hours. And after what happened at the alley, you don’t… you don’t want me anymore."

Her voice faltered just slightly at the end, and fuck, I could see it—see the vulnerability she was trying to mask with all this bravado.

"Sarah," I said, softer now. "Something bad happened to you. I just wanted to give you space—to let you process things before we talked."

Her lips parted, but there was no hesitation when she said, "But I don’t want to talk, Chris."

"Then what do you want?"

My voice was hoarse, edged with a desperation I wasn’t even trying to hide anymore. I needed her to know—I wanted her. I would always want her.

Her eyes gleamed at my words, dark and unreadable. Then, slowly, deliberately, she licked her lips, and before I could brace myself, her hand slid down, gripping my cock with just enough pressure to make my breath hitch.

"I want this," she murmured, her voice like silk laced with sin.

"Fuck… Sarah." My chest rose and fell too fast, my control hanging by a thread.

She leaned in, her lips so close I could almost taste them. "I want it on my throat," she whispered. "I want you to gag me if possible. Make me forget everything. Can you do that?"

Her thumb flicked over the tip, and I let out a sharp breath, my body tightening like a live wire.

"Can you do that for me, Chris?" she asked again, her tone pleading yet knowing.

I barely managed a nod. "Yes," I whispered, my voice wrecked. "Yes, I can."

Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling faster. "Is that all you want, love?" I murmured, my fingers brushing over her hardened nipple, teasing, twisting one of them hard.

She trembled under my touch. "Chris…"

I knew that sound, that need. She couldn't take it anymore.

Neither could I.

I hear the need in her voice, the way she says my name like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. My fingers trail down her curves, slow and deliberate, teasing her skin with just enough pressure to have her gasping.

She leans in, pressing herself against me, her warmth searing into my chest. "Chris," she breathes again, her lips so close that if I moved even an inch, I’d be kissing her.

I wanted to.

I wanted to do a lot more than that.

But I needed to hear it from her.

"Tell me," I rasped, my lips brushing the corner of her mouth. "Tell me exactly what you want, love."

Her nails dig into my arms, her body trembling slightly, but there’s nothing hesitant about the way she looks at me. Her eyes burn with something deeper, something desperate.

"I want you," she whispers. "All of you."

Fuck.

A shudder runs through me. My hands slide to her waist, gripping her just enough to let her know I’m barely holding on. "You sure?" My voice is strained, rough with restraint.

Instead of answering, she tilts her head, her lips grazing my jaw before trailing down my throat, slow, soft, devastating.

"Sarah…" My breath stutters, and she smirks against my skin.

She knows exactly what she’s doing.

But I wasn’t about to let her have all the control.

In one swift motion, I turn her, pressing her back against the cool glass. Her breath catches, and I take the chance to claim her lips—hot, deep, demanding. She melts into me, her body arching, her fingers tangling in my hair as I kiss her like I’ve wanted to since the moment I laid eyes on her.

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Just need.

Pure, burning need.

The moment our lips met, I lost all sense of restraint. She tasted like something forbidden, something I knew I should take my time with—but fuck, I couldn’t. My tongue pushed past her parted lips, claiming her, demanding her. She met me with the same hunger, her fingers digging into my shoulders, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.

A deep, needy moan ripped from her throat, vibrating against my mouth, and I had to grip the back of her neck to keep myself from losing it completely. My cock throbbed, pressed against her bare skin, aching for more, but I forced myself to slow down, to let her feel every second of this.

I broke the kiss only long enough to drag my tongue across her lower lip, savoring the taste of her. “You’re so fucking sweet, love,” I murmured, voice rough with need. “But I need to taste something sweeter before I fuck your mouth.”

Her breath hitched, her eyes wide, dark, and full of want. She didn’t get a chance to respond before I had her pinned against the glass, my mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat, lower, lower—

I didn’t stop until my lips found her chest, my tongue flicking over the stiff peak of her nipple. Her back arched instantly, pressing herself against me as a sharp gasp tore from her throat. I groaned, taking her in my mouth, sucking just enough to make her whimper.

“Chris…” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, almost lost in the sound of the running water.

I wrapped my lips around her nipple and sucked harder, my free hand coming up to cup her other breast, kneading, teasing, rolling the hardened peak between my fingers. She trembled beneath me, her fingers threading through my wet hair, pulling me closer as if I could possibly get any nearer.

“Fuck, you’re sensitive,” I muttered against her skin, dragging my tongue over the hard peak before gently biting down.

She cried out, her nails raking against my scalp. My cock twitched at the sound.

“You like that?” I murmured, switching to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. My tongue swirled around the peak before I sucked, long and deep, letting my teeth scrape just enough to make her gasp.

Her hand, the one that had been gripping my hair, slid lower—trailing over my chest, my abs—until she wrapped her fingers around me.

“Shit—Sarah,” I hissed, pressing my forehead against her skin, breathing her in as she stroked me, slow, teasing.

I exhaled harshly, then lifted my head, meeting her gaze. “You really want this?”

She didn’t hesitate. “I want you, Chris.”

That's all I ever wanted.

I grabbed her neck, my fingers pressing just enough to make her breath hitch. Her pulse beat wildly beneath my touch, and I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. She didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned in, her lips parting, a silent plea for more.

My thumb traced along her jaw before I slid my hand lower, brushing over the curve of her chest. A sharp exhale left her as I took my time, letting my fingers tease, explore, until she squirmed under my touch. Her body responded to me so perfectly, and I wanted—needed—to savor every second of it.

"On your knees for me, love."

She nodded, her breath shaky as she slowly sank down, her gaze never leaving me. The way she looked at me—like she wanted to devour me whole—made my chest tighten.

Then, before I could process it, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against my skin as she gave me a quick lick.  A sharp, strangled curse left me as my head hit the cool tiles behind me. My hands found her face, my thumb sweeping over her lips, feeling their warmth, their softness.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” My voice came out hoarse, raw with hunger.

Her lips parted slightly, teasing, waiting. And hell, I was done waiting.

"So needy aren't you?" She nodded and that made me grow a teasing smirk.

"Okay then." I grabbed my cock and positioned it on her mouth.

"Now be a good girl and take what you need from me."