Wolfe is a psychopath, and in fact, He's even a crazy sociopath.
That's the only thought racing through Serena's mind as she paced across her room, her bare feet were moving back and forth over the cold floor. Her arms were crossed tightly under her chest, and her eyes storming with everything she couldn't say out loud.
No normal man would act like this.
No ordinary boss would make his assistant strip down, kneel, and sit in silence like a doll, and crazy he even gave her the fucking name... brat doll?!
She was there on her knees for almost two hours and ended up apologizing before he released her
He's weird, strange, and somehow more calculated than her.
That part was the most unsettling.
She'd studied the art of manipulation, disguise, silent kills. She was trained to be untouchable, emotionless and focused.
But Wolfe Hayes?
He saw through her like a mirror, why would he keep on insisting she's not twenty seven? He even said she's acting like a teenager, just who the heck is this guy?
Her chest rose with every frustrated breath. She ran her fingers through her hair and turned again.
She needed a new angle.
He's guarded twenty-four-seven, he's unpredictable, unreadable, and impossible to corner.
She can't rely on her usual methods, flirtation, seduction, a quick stab between the ribs.
He would see it coming, definitely.
Wolfe isn't just powerful, he's dangerous, the kind of man you don't get too close to, not because he'd hurt you…but because he'd unravel you.
Serena stopped at the edge of her bed with her fingers twitching.
"I need to finish this. Fast." She mumbled and bit her lip.
She can't afford to get pulled deeper into this game.
But how?
She sighed and settled down on the bed.
--
Soft light spilled into the airy bedroom through sheer white curtains, casting golden rays across a room that looked like it belonged in a Vogue spread.
The ceiling is high, the walls blush-toned and decorated with delicate gold frames. A glass chandelier hung quietly above the queen-sized bed, where Magnolia lay curled under a pale pink silk duvet, her tousled hair spread out like a halo across the pillows.
She didn't stir as the door opened.
Kayden walked in, holding a tall glass of something cool and green in one hand and an iPad in the other.
He wore a pair of soft gray straight-leg cargo joggers, loose at the ankles with zipper details, paired with a black oversized sweatshirt layered over a white tee that peeked out underneath. His hair looks shiny and clean white sneakers.
Simple. Stylish. Effortlessly masculine.. a typical example of HOT manager.
As a matter of fact, Kayden has his own special fan base from Magnolia, the set of girls who always want to see him only around Magnolia.
He walked past the sitting area, around the velvet chaise lounge, and headed straight for the bed.
"Magnolia," he said calmly.
No response.
He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, adjusting the glass in his hand.
"You've got three seconds to wake up before I pull this blanket off and post a photo of your morning face on your fan page."
A soft groan came from the pillows.
"I hate you."
"I know."
She didn't open her eyes. Instead, she pulled the duvet tighter around her body and mumbled something into it.
Kayden rolled his eyes and held the glass closer.
"It's your morning detox–celery, cucumber, lemon, mint, and half a shot of ginger. Organic, cold-pressed, $15 a bottle. You made me order three crates of it and promise you'd drink it before opening your phone."
She reached out one arm from under the covers and blindly grabbed the glass. Kayden placed it in her hand with slow ease.
"Mhm," she muttered.
"You're so annoying. But like…in a soulmate way."
He raised a brow.
"You said that to your nail tech last week."
"She earned it," Magnolia said, her eyes still closed while sipping slowly.
Kayden stood, scrolling on his iPad.
"Okay. Schedule for today. You have a noon shoot for the Blair summer fragrance campaign. Then you've got a Vogue pop-up Q&A at 4PM. It's a short one. Just forty-five minutes."
"Mhm."
"And tonight," he added, his eyes flicking down to the last item, "is the gala."
That made her eyes open. Just slightly.
She peeked at him over the edge of the duvet, blinking like a spoiled cat.
"My dress?"
"Delivered at 5AM. It's in the wardrobe room. Dior. Black. Hand-stitched crystals. Looks like sin." Kayden smirked.
Magnolia grinned and sat up slowly, pushing the blanket down to her waist.
"You should come with me."
Kayden blinked once.
"To the gala?"
"Yes." She leaned forward.
"Sure I can...as your manager.. "
"As my date." Magnolia cut in.
"I'm your manager."
"Exactly," she said, voice light.
"You manage me everywhere else. Manage me to the party too."
Kayden gave her a blank look.
"You're supposed to go with someone photo-worthy, not your manager"
She leaned over and grabbed his wrist with both hands, staring up at him with her best weapon, that wide-eyed, innocent, completely manipulative look.
Big brown eyes. Glossy lips. Slightly pouted.
"Pleaseee, Kaykay," she said in a dramatic whisper.
"You're tall. Hot. Dependable. Perfect lighting accessory."
He exhaled deeply, his head tilting back.
"That look doesn't work anymore."
She blinked once. Slowly, then pouted.
Kayden groaned.
"Fine," he muttered. "I'll go."
She squealed and threw her arms around him in a sleepy hug.
"I love you forever."
"But I'm wearing my own suit," he said, pulling away.
"I'll pay."
"Nope."
She let out a groan and fell backward into the bed, her hair flying everywhere.
"You never let me be sugar mommy. This is why I'm oppressed."
Kayden was already heading for the door, ignoring whatever she was saying.
"You've got thirty-five minutes. I'll have your breakfast waiting downstairs."
"Kaykay?"
He paused and looked back.
"You're the best fake date ever."
He gave her a small smile and disappeared into the hallway.
Magnolia rolled over, hugging her pillow as she whispered to herself.
"Serena better be coming tonight. Or I'm dragging her by the hair."
She yawned again and almost closed her eyes when she remembered Kayden.
She groaned and throw the duvet away before rushing into the bathroom
--
Steam drifted gently from the slightly open bathroom door, curling into the cool air of the bedroom like soft smoke. Ezran stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, water still glistening along his exposed chest, shoulders and collarbones.
He froze.
Three maids stood in the center of his room, holding garment bags and folded fabrics.
The moment they saw him, they gasped quietly, their eyes widening in panic seeing him before they immediately looked down and bowed.
One of them stammered.
"W-We're sorry, young master… we didn't know you were still inside. Your outfit for tonight… Lady Hayes ordered us to bring it up."
Ezran blinked once, completely unfazed by the flustered chaos. His damp curls framed his face, and the quiet frown tugging at his brows made them straighten up even faster.
"Leave," he said simply.
They bowed again, rushed to place the garment bag on his bed, and backed out like their lives depended on it.
Just before the door closed, one of them added quickly.
"Granny Hayes is waiting in the dining hall."
The door clicked shut.
Ezran exhaled softly and walked over to the bed, tugging open the zipper of the bag.
Inside wasn't a full suit. Instead, it was a carefully styled, formal black mandarin-collared jacket, embroidered lightly with silver thread along the cuffs and buttons. Beneath it, a charcoal-gray silk inner shirt and tailored black trousers, paired with lace-up leather boots, polished to perfection. A subtle chain link hung from the front pocket of the jacket, with a miniature H-crest charm dangling from it.
Ezran sighed, ran a hand through his still-damp hair before walking to his closet. He tossed on a plain gray long-sleeve tee and black pants.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand.
A message blinked on the screen from Benjamin:
Ben: Weekend check-in 😤 You still breathing rich boy?
Ezran cracked the tiniest smile and typed back.
Ezran: Barely. About to go eat with Granny.
Ben: Tell her to adopt me.
Ezran: She'd probably say yes.
He put the phone in his pocket and headed downstairs, one hand in his pocket, his footsteps quiet against the steps.
--
The long table was already set, white and gold trim, candle centerpiece unlit, and three sets of utensils aligned at each seat.
At the very end of the table, in a carved high-back chair with floral velvet lining, Granny Hayes sipped slowly from a delicate porcelain cup. Her hair was pinned up in her signature twisted bun, silver strands glowing softly under the chandelier.
Ezran walked in and took the seat closest to her, saying nothing.
She didn't glance up.
The maids appeared quietly, placing a warm plate in front of him, salmon in light butter sauce, roasted baby potatoes, steamed vegetables, and fresh juice on the side.
"You'll be attending the gala tonight," Granny said suddenly, still looking at her tea.
Ezran paused, then started cutting into the salmon.
"Thought I might skip this year."
"You won't."
He sighed.
She lifted her gaze now, sharp but calm.
"It's tradition. Every member of the Hayes bloodline attends. Your parents never missed one."
Ezran lowered his eyes briefly, pressing his lips together.
Granny's voice softened only slightly.
"I won't be going. But the guards will accompany you. You'll attend, stay an hour or two, and they'll bring you home. No distractions. No detours. Understood?"
"Understood."
She looked at him for a long moment before giving a single nod. The kind that meant the conversation was over.
Ezran focused on his plate. He wasn't thrilled about the idea of walking around a ballroom filled with fake smiles and overly polished shoes.
But one thing made it bearable.
Wolfe would be there.
His brother. His favorite person.
It had been weeks since they sat in the same room, let alone talked, he doesn't even respond to his texts but Ezran is used to it anyway.
But tonight, He'd finally see him again.
Ezran picked up his glass and took a slow sip, leaning back in his chair.
--
<8:00 PM, The Glassmoor Pavilion>
Outside, the red carpet stretched in a seamless glide from the circular driveway into the towering glass building, lit from every angle.
The air was crisp, the cameras flashing like strobe lights, and the city's elite were arriving in designer chaos, styling, wealth, and power.
Limousines, custom-built cars, security flanking the crowd barriers.
The name already on everyone's lips? Wolfe Hayes...an interview is going on right now and people are talking about how they can't wait to see him!
Inside the Valente Family Car,
The black car pulled up at the drop-off zone, and the valet moved quickly to open the rear door.
Rose stepped out behind her parents, her head slightly lowered, one hand clutching her silver clutch against her waist.
Her gown was a soft blush pink silk, off-shoulder with delicate embroidered roses across the neckline, a corset waist, and flowing down to the floor with a slit that stopped just above the knee. Simple, feminine, expensive.
Her heels matched her skin tone.
Her earrings shimmered beneath her soft brown curls, which had been pinned to one side, letting the other fall freely.
She walked closely behind her parents, slightly stiff as the cameras started flashing.
• Mr. Valente! A picture please!
• Mrs. Valente, who are you wearing tonight?
Rose kept her eyes down, the sudden lights already burning into her retinas.
Then, suddenly the atmosphere shifted.
The reporters stopped shouting her father's name, turning sharply toward the new arrival behind them.
People gasped. Microphones dropped. Camera crews sprinted.
And Rose looked over her shoulder only to see Ezran.
He stepped out of the grey luxury car, wearing his expensive outfit, his Dark hair slicked back.
A brooding calm. Rich boy perfection.
• It's Ezran!
• Youngest son of the Hayes!!
• He's so handsome.
• A quick glance please! Ezran!
But Ezran didn't glance at the crowd. He didn't notice Rose.
He just walked past like the noise meant nothing.
And yet somehow… he brought all of it with him.
Rose stared at his bike as her family followed behind, Ezran seems to be so used to the attention and she became jealous of that. She doesn't like camera or attention at all.
Next came the elegant pull-up of a midnight-blue luxury coupe, its engine purring smooth and quiet.
Kyren stepped out in full Voture elegance black velvet blazer over an open white silk shirt, chain layered just enough to make the cameras go wild. His curls were styled, his jawline impossible to ignore.
Clara emerged from the other side in a flowing lilac gown, low back, silver rhinestones hugging every curve. She smiled, waved, and the fans went insane.
• CLARA!! KYREN!! LOOK HERE!!
• VOTURE REPRESENTING!!"
Almost at the same time, another car rolled in.
And then, Magnolia.
Stepping out in her midnight black gown, her hair curled and swept back in soft waves, a ruby necklace around her throat.
Kayden followed her out also in all black–sharp-edged, modern fit, the silent storm to her fire.
The screams? Deafening.
• MAGS!! MAGS LOOK HERE!!
• IT'S KYREN!! OH MY GAWD!!
Inside the crowd, Clara's eyes trailed to Magnolia with a sparkle.
"I really like her," she murmured to Kyren.
"She seems… cool. I'd love to be her friend."
Kyren raised a brow.
"So why haven't you walked up to her? You do know you're both ambassadors for the company brand, right?"
Clara blushed a little, shrugging.
"She just… I don't know. She's intimidating in a nice way."
As they walked in, Magnolia caught Clara's gaze and smiled.
Clara smiled back and gave a little wave.
Another sleek black car rolled up and from it stepped Aren Calden, dressed in steel gray with a dark floral shirt.
At his side, Tessa, his tall, sharp-eyed secretary, wore a fitted emerald green gown.
Cameras went off immediately.
Click. Flash. Click.
• Aren, over here!
• Aren!!
And then…
Everything stopped.
The last car rolled in. A jet-black beast of a machine. Unlabeled. Custom-made.
The reporters didn't speak at first, They just held their breath.
And then the door opened.
Wolfe stepped out.
Dressed in an all-black high-collared ensemble with layered silver rings, a dark chain barely visible beneath his collarbone.
His hair was styled low, his sharp brow casting shadow across his piercing gaze.
Jawline? Ruthless.
Aura? Untouchable.
Even the wind bowed.
The crowd went insane.
• WOLFE!! OH MY GOD!!
• HE'S NOT REAL!!
• LOOK AT HIM!!
• AHHH!!!
And then...Serena.
Stepping out in a skin-tight red satin dress with thin straps, a slit that ran dangerously high, and matching red heels that could slice hearts. Her hair was pulled into a clean, twisted bun, long earrings brushing her collarbones.
People screamed. Flash. Flash. Flash.
• WHO IS SHE?!
• SHE'S SO HOT!!
• WOLFE'S DATE???
Aren stood still by the entrance, watching.
His jaw clenched.
His eyes followed Wolfe like they could kill him.
Wolfe didn't even look in his direction.
Zayne followed behind them, silent and watchful while everyone entered the gala hall.
Golden chandeliers hung like galaxies above the ballroom. Walls of crystal. Floor-to-ceiling windows on one side revealing the city skyline.
Champagne flowed from a sculpted tower at the center. Soft jazz floated from a live quartet by the grand staircase.
Round tables, covered in velvet cloth and custom nameplates, wrapped around a glossy open dance floor. Each table surrounded by celebrities, CEOs, government figures, heirs.
At the front, a raised platform where the MC took the mic.
"Welcoming the CEO of Livel vineyard Enterprises, Aren Livel!"
A polite round of applause followed as Aren walked in, Tessa on his arm.
"And now…" the MC continued, voice rising.
"CEO of Hayes Global Estates… Founder of the Black Crest Wine Empire… the youngest in history to dominate the Forbes Top 5,Wolfe Hayes!"
The room exploded.
Cameras lifted. Necks craned. Even the most famous faces turned.
Wolfe didn't even blink. He walked in slowly, hand in his pocket, Serena beside him, also feeling his presence right there.
He made power look easy.
The MC barely recovered.
"Mr. Hayes is joined tonight by his personal assistant, Miss Serena Vale...."
People started whispering.
They moved to their table, seated beside Kyren and Clara.
"Hey dude" Kyren and Wolfe hugged each other.
"Hello Mr. Hayes, I'm Clara" Clara smiled, stretching her hand for a shake.
"Hi" Wolfe finally said his first word today before sitting down.
Serena leaned slightly and smiled at them.
"Hi. You both look incredible"
"Thanks" Kyren smiled.
Clara blinked, her cheeks warming.
"You're… wow. You're actually so pretty."
Serena chuckled softly.
"Says you."
"Of course" Clara said and they both laughed.
Serena's phone buzzed and she checked to see a text from Magnolia.
Magnolia: Turn back.
Serena Immediately turned and Magnolia waved at her brightly from her table.
"Hey, I was already looking for you" Serena mouthed.
Magnolia winked at her and they both laughed.
"You two are close?" Clara asked in amusement and Magnolia faced her.
"Yeah"
"Really?!! Then introduce me to her! I love her so much please please please" Clara pouted, holding Serena's hand.
"Okay, no problem"
"Oh my gosh, thank you!" Clara gasped.
Kyren and Wolfe were already having their own conversation.
--
The music had picked up. Fast, pulsing beats now filled the air, and the glittering dance floor was flooded with bodies swaying in sync under the golden light. Everyone seem happy as the event went on and on.
Serena stood near the edge of the crowd with Clara beside her, a drink in her hand, her eyes glowing faintly under the soft chandelier glow.
She turned toward Clara with a smile.
"Clara, this is Magnolia," Serena said as the she stepped closer.
Clara's eyes widened slightly.
"Oh my God, I love your music."
Magnolia grinned.
"And I love your dress, holy hell. Voture, right?"
"You know it."
Serena watched them with a half-smile, pleased. She tapped her glass gently against Magnolia's.
"So you don't like mine?" She asked.
"You know I love you more" Magnolia smiled.
"So who's he?" Serena glanced at Kayden just sharply trying not to make it obvious.
"Oh. My friend and my manager" Magnolia muttered.
"Why? He's hot right?" Clara smirked.
"Definitely" Magnolia nodded.
Clara and Serena exchanged glances and cleared their throat.
"Both of you, stop" Magnolia frowned.
They all laughed.
Kyren and Wolfe were standing side by side near the corner bar area, each holding a glass but barely sipping. The two powerhouses were nodding through conversations with fashion investors, business directors, and two top-tier celebrities who clearly wanted a photo with one, or both of them.
Wolfe's phone buzzed in his pocket after some minutes.
He didn't even glance at the people around him.
"I'll be right back," he told Kyren and disappeared into the side hallway.
Kyren nods his head toward the guests, smiling.
"He's not really the social type."
Ezran stood stiffly near the drinks table, dodging girls trying to start conversations, complimenting his outfit, asking him countless questions, not like he was expecting anything less, but seems tonight is actually worse.
He didn't respond to any of them anyway. And the moment he spotted Wolfe slipping out of the ballroom, he moved.
He weaved through the crowd, ignoring the calls and glances.
Just as Ezran turned the corner, Rose came rushing from the opposite direction and bumped straight into him.
"Oh!" she gasped, clutching her phone to her chest.
Ezran caught her instinctively by the arms.
"Watch it," he said flatly, before blinking and realizing who she was.
"Rose, right?"
She nodded, stunned.
"Y-Yeah. I'm sorry again, I didn't see you."
He stepped back, his hands sliding into his pockets.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she breathed out.
"I didn't expect to see you here."
Ezran gave a faint shrug.
"Neither did I."
An awkward pause.
"See you in school" Rose mumbled.
Then Ezran nodded once and kept walking, not looking back.
Rose stared at him again before walking away.
--
Wolfe stood against the dark railing in the balcony, his phone pressed to his ear, gaze fixed on the skyline. The cool night air brushed against his skin, ruffling strands of hair across his forehead.
Then he heard footsteps, but he didn't turn, he was on a call and very concentrated.
Ezran appeared behind him, walking straight toward him with that quiet, calm energy that only Wolfe ever truly understood.
Ezran didn't say anything, he just wrapped his arms around his brother and pulled him into a tight hug.
Wolfe looked at him and hung up on his call.
"I missed you," Ezran said.
Wolfe smiled and hugged him back.
"You're looking good" he said.
"And you're still ghosting my texts."
Wolfe sighed.
"I'm busy."
Ezran rolled his eyes.
"You're Wolfe. You're always busy. But damn, I'm sure billionaires text back sometimes."
Wolfe gave the smallest twitch of a smile.
"I'll try."
Ezran leaned against the railing beside him, both of them looking out at the glowing city.
"Think we can hang out soon? Please, I'm tired of only seeing you on phone like other people as if you aren't my brother...what do you think? Ezran asked.
"Yeah," Wolfe said simply.
"Let's do that. Soon"
Just then, Wolfe's phone buzzed again.
He glanced at the screen, and his posture shifted.
He straightened slowly, eyes narrowing.
Ezran noticed.
"Work?"
"Sort of." Wolfe nodded toward the door.
"Go back inside. I'll meet you later."
Ezran hesitated, then nodded and walked away.
Wolfe raised the phone to his ear and spoke low.
"What do you have?"
The voice on the other end answered.
Wolfe's eyes gleamed slightly.
The man continued.
"I just finished up with the information you requested for and I found a record. Serena Vale. Registered in 2011 by a private orphanage just outside Marseille. One that, by the way, doesn't exist anymore. It was shut down and cleared within two years. No legal trace left."
Wolfe's said nothing.
"She was four years old at the time of registration. That means, as of this year…"
Wolfe's hand dropped to his side for a moment, the phone still pressed to his ear to listen properly.
And then...he heard Serena's voice behind him.
"I came to find you," she said softly, walking up beside him.
"You disappeared without telling me" she said.
Wolfe didn't turn.
He simply dropped the phone from his ear and pressed the speaker button.
Serena blinked. Her chest suddenly felt tight and curious, what's going on?
The voice crackled through the phone again.
"So based on the 2011 registration at age four, Serena Vale is currently 18 years old."
Silence followed.
Serena's heart dropped into her stomach.
She stared straight at Wolfe, her throat tightening, her lips parted but no words came out.
He slowly turned his head, his eyes unreadable.
Then he hung up.
The phone lowered from his hand.
Serena finally swallowed and said,
"So what now? You gonna fire me? Because I'm too young for your taste?"
Wolfe didn't answer.
He simply pushed both hands into his pockets….and walked right past her, brushing her shoulder without a glance.
Her chest rose.
She stared after him, her heart thudding too hard against her ribs.
Her fingers clenched into the side of her dress.
"What the hell am I going to do now…?"
Just what?!
How did this devil even figured out??
She started biting her fingers, she got confused immediately. If he can figure out her age, then how sure is she that he won't find out where she came from?
--
Inside her room, Serena paced back and forth, frustration bubbling just beneath her skin. Her arms were folded tightly, her jaw clenched as she tried to stop herself from screaming. It had been a week, seven long, excruciating days–since that night. Since Wolfe discovered the truth.
And since then…he hadn't spoken a word to her...not even one.
She's being avoided like a plague.
He had shut her out completely. She wasn't allowed to accompany him to the office anymore, he didn't come to meals, didn't cross her path, and every time she even tried to go near him, she was shut down.
It felt like she was suspended. Banished. Invisible.
And it wasn't even about her mission anymore. This ache, this bitterness in her chest...it wasn't just about losing the job.
She didn't want to lose him, where that's coming from? She doesn't know.
Serena stopped and checked the time. The clock blinked 10:17 PM. Wolfe couldn't be asleep yet, not with his strict nighttime routines.
Her fists curled.
No. She is not going to keep pacing like a ghost. She needed answers.
She stormed out of her room.
The mansion was quiet, the soft golden lights lining the hallways casting long shadows against the velvet walls. Her bare feet made soft taps against the polished floors as she headed straight for his suite.
She opened the door to silence.
The room was empty.
Her breath hitched slightly, but she didn't turn back. She stepped deeper into the suite. His bed was untouched. The curtains danced gently in the breeze. The air carried a hint of cedar wood and something even darker–HIM.
Then, the door opened behind her.
She turned.
And froze.
Wolfe entered the room, his tall frame emerging from the private indoor pool in the next room. A single white towel was wrapped low around his waist, droplets of water glistening on his chiseled chest. His damp black hair fell carelessly over his forehead, a few strands clinging to his sharp cheekbones.
His pink lips looked fuller under the dim light,fucking sexy and every muscle in his chest and abdomen flexed with each movement, his abs perfectly carved, his biceps prominent, veins dancing beneath golden skin.
God. Like...Gawd.
Serena swallowed hard.
Wolfe's eyes flicked to her once, then he rolled them and turned toward his closet room without a word.
But nope...
She moved fast, rushing forward and sliding in front of him, her arms spread, blocking his path.
Wolfe didn't even look at her.
She look so small in front of him but stubborn. She lifted her chin.
"You can't even look at me now?"
Silence followed.
Her voice shook.
"I started working because I needed money. That's all it was at the beginning."
Wolfe scoffed, his jaw tightening.
"And I'm just supposed to believe that? After you lied about everything including your age?"
His eyes finally lowered, raking down her figure slowly. He was clearly trying to restrain himself.
"Eighteen," he muttered darkly.
Yeah she's eighteen, but her body doesn't look eighteen though.
He said it like it was a curse. Like it tormented him.
Serena's lips trembled. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down, soft and silent. She stepped closer, reaching for him. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist like a plea.
"Please…" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
He looked down at her then.
Their eyes mer...
It wasn't just the tears. It was the way she stared up at him, those wide, innocent eyes, trembling lips, messy hair. She looked too soft, too raw, too desperate.
It hit him.
He knew there's something more behind those eyes. Something he hadn't figured out yet.
But at that moment?
Fuck it.
Wolfe's arm shot out, His hand gripped her waist, hard, and before she could speak, he slammed his lips onto hers.
Her gasp melted into the kiss.
It was rough. Starved and Possessive.
His hand slid up her spine, pulling her even closer as he deepened the kiss. His mouth tasted like saltwater, obviously from the pool and something darker, something dangerous.
Her hands fisted into his damp hair, tugging him closer like she never wanted to let go.
His towel nearly slipped as he pressed her back against the wall, not breaking the kiss even once.
Serena held him even tighter, for her own balance and breath, like heck. He's too rough...just too rough.