I scrambled, heart hammering, trying hurriedly to straighten my skirt and tuck the blanket just right. The blanket couldn't hide everything , my hoodie didn't help either, but I had to pretend I wasn't… flushed.
"Uh… what happened?" my stepmom asked, rubbing her eyes as she stirred awake.
"The… movie finished," Daniel said smoothly, keeping his tone calm. Perfect calm,Almost.
"Alright, dear, let's head home," she said to me, standing and stretching.
"Yes, Mrs. Ana," I murmured, keeping my voice steady, trying to ignore the way Daniel's eyes followed me with that… look.
She glanced at him and smiled. "I suggest you two rest here. It's late."
Daniel chuckled softly. "How sweet of you, dashing hero," she said, teasing.
Mom left, shutting the door softly behind her. The apartment suddenly felt smaller, charged, alive.
I sank back into the couch, trying to calm my pulse, aware of his presence just a little too close.
He picked up his phone, thumb hovering, then paused. Lila. His daughter. He stared at the screen, jaw tightening, eyes shadowed with thoughts he didn't share, or bothered to tell me!
We both Just knew one thing at this moment that whatever hell that happened tonight had changed everything.
Like everything
And I won't lie I don't want that
Daniel's phone lit up again. Lila.
He hesitated, then swiped to answer, voice soft. "Hey, sweetheart."
I couldn't help but watch him, the way his entire expression softened. But then his eyes flicked to me,sharp, lingering, hungry,and my stomach flipped.
"What? You're coming over?" he repeated, running a hand over his jaw. "For a week?"
My breath caught. My best friend. His daughter. Sleeping in this same house for a whole week.
"Of course," he said finally, voice even. "Yeah, can't wait to see you." He ended the call and set the phone down.I shifted nervously, tugging at the hem of my skirt. "A whole week?" I whispered. "Daniel, what if she what if anyone finds out?"
He moved closer, too close. His eyes locked on mine, stormy gray and devastating. "Maya." His voice was low, rough, like he'd been holding it back for years. "You have no idea what you do to me. You're… beautiful. Pretty doesn't even cover it. You walk into a room and I forget how to breathe."
My chest tightened, panic and thrill colliding. "You can't say that. If anyone knew—if Lila knew—"
He cut me off with a hand brushing over my arm, slow, deliberate. My skin lit up like fire under his touch. "Forget them. Forget the rules. You think you'd regret it if I touched you? If I wanted more than this?" His voice dipped, husky, tempting.
Every rational part of me screamed danger, stop, don't do this. But his hand slid just a little lower, fingers tracing against my waist, and suddenly, all that noise quieted. My body betrayed me heat pooling, breath catching, my pulse tripping over itself.
I swallowed hard, eyes darting to the door, terrified someone would walk in !!!!
But when he leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him to keep going.
And that scared me more than anything.
"You can't just—say things like that," I whispered, voice shaky. "What if she finds out? What if anyone does?"
His hand was still on my arm, thumb stroking slow circles like he owned me. His eyes those sharp, stormy gray eyes didn't move from mine. "Maya," he said, voice low, almost broken. "I've tried. I've tried to ignore it. Tried to be… good. But you walk in looking like this and—God—I can't look away. I don't want to." when today and whenever you wore short skirts and the way they torment me by sliding up just a little bit to just keep me wanting for more..
My stomach flipped, heat rushing to my cheeks. My body leaned toward him even though my brain screamed wrong, forbidden, dangerous.
"Stop," I whispered. Except I didn't move away.
"Do you want me to?" he asked, voice like gravel. His face was inches from mine now, so close I could smell the faint cologne clinging to his shirt. "Tell me right now and I'll stop."
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. My throat was dry. My chest tight. And that was my answer.
The corner of his mouth curved, just slightly, before his hand slid higher fingers brushing my jaw, tilting my face toward his. My breath caught. His lips hovered above mine, testing, giving me that one last second to run.
But I didn't.
The first touch of his mouth was fire. Soft at first, like he was afraid I'd vanish if he pressed harder. Then hungrier, deeper, like every ounce of restraint he'd held snapped all at once.
I gasped against his lips, my hand clutching his shirt, pulling him closer.
The fear, the rules, the danger they all blurred !
When he finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against mine. His voice was ragged, uneven. "You're going to kill me one day."
And I, lips swollen, heart racing, whispered back the truth neither of us could deny anymore. "you make me feel wanted and pleasured every day"