2. Hard?

Imogen’s bold offer stunned him. How long had it been since he last touched a woman? Five years? Ever since his divorce… it felt like a lifetime.

And now, temptation stood right in front of him.

Imogen’s body wasn’t the kind a man could easily ignore. Slim waist, soft curves in all the right places, her strapless dress revealing the perfect swell of her breasts — just enough to torment a man’s imagination. Her skin glowed like porcelain kissed by candlelight, and her lips… God, her lips. Sweet. Pink. And her ass? Just made for sin.

Any other man would’ve caved in an instant.

But karma had cursed him tonight.

Even faced with a woman this beautiful, this willing… Adam could only grit his teeth and remind himself: he couldn’t. Not with his problem.

For the first time that night, the man seemed genuinely unsettled. “I… I’m flattered.” He shifted slightly, almost awkward in his honesty. “But I’m not the right man. I… have certain… issues.” His throat bobbed in a nervous swallow, his fingers tightening faintly at his side. “Please don’t misunderstand. I just…”

Imogen’s smile softened. “Ah, sorry.” A man with scars of his own. Perhaps that’s why he didn’t hesitate to help her tonight.

“You don’t have to explain. I understand.” She offered her hand with graceful poise. “Imogen.”

The man hesitated for only a second before taking her hand in his — large, warm, steady despite his nerves.

“Adam,” he said simply.

Their hands parted. So did they.

Later that night, drunk and humiliated, Imogen stumbled, the world spinning beneath her heels.

A hand caught her arm, rough, possessive. A stranger’s breath reeked of alcohol as he leaned close, leering.

“Baby, I heard you say you’re not so useless in bed. How about I help you prove it tonight?”

Her heart jumped. Danger clawed at her chest. She yanked her arm back, her voice sharp despite the alcohol clouding her head.

“Let go of me!”

Before the man could tighten his grip, another hand seized his wrist — firm, cold, unshakable.

“Don’t touch my fiancée.”

Adam’s cold, commanding voice sliced through the tension.

But the man didn’t flinch. His lips curled, slow and mocking, as if amused by the interruption. His gaze dragged lazily from Adam to Imogen, lingering a moment too long.

“No need to get so possessive. I was only making conversation.”

His voice was low, dangerous — the kind of man used to getting what he wanted, one way or another.

He stepped back, not out of fear, but because the weight of too many stares had begun to gather, whispers already circling like sharks sensing blood in water.

For now, he let go. For now.

But his parting look at Imogen burned with something dark. Something dangerous.

“See you later, beauty.”

Imogen’s skin prickled. She knew trouble when she saw it.

Adam said nothing. He simply guided her away — out of the ballroom.

“Should I take you to your room?” he asked, his tone calm, almost indifferent.

Imogen, still shaken, gave a small nod. “Thanks.”

***

Adam said nothing. He simply guided her away from the ballroom with quiet patience.

“Should I take you to your room?” he asked when they reached the elevator. His tone stayed polite, distant.

Imogen, still trembling slightly, gave a small nod. “Thanks.”

Her shoulder brushed against his chest — hard, broad, unyielding beneath the expensive suit. No amount of tailored fabric could hide the man underneath.

'Is this sexy man really 'sick'? Or was that just an excuse? He doesn’t look like someone who can’t… perform.'

“You’re safe now. Get some rest,” Adam said softly as they stopped in front of her door — Room 1708. “I… should head to my room. But if you need anything, you can call. You know I’m not dangerous. I promise.”

But Imogen wasn’t ready to let him go. Not yet. She wobbled deliberately, letting herself fall forward with a soft gasp.

Adam moved instantly, steadying her with strong arms. His brows furrowed. “Careful.”

Without thinking, he swept her off her feet, carrying her bridal style just as she’d secretly hoped.

Imogen swallowed. His scent hit her first — something expensive and clean, mixed with faint leather and citrus. Masculine. Overwhelming.

He laid her gently on the bed.

“Can I… see your face?” Imogen asked, her voice soft, almost shy now.

Adam hesitated, visibly uncomfortable.

“I just… it feels rude. We’ve exchanged names, but I don’t even know the face of the man who saved me twice tonight,” she coaxed with a small smile.

Without waiting for permission, she reached up and removed his mask.

Under the soft hotel lighting, his face was revealed — sharp jawline, dark hair slightly tousled, high cheekbones, and a mouth that looked both cruel and kissable. His features were the kind women dreamed of, the kind men envied.

'What sin have I committed? To meet a man this gorgeous… and he claims he can’t even get hard?'

Imogen let out a soft, breathless laugh. “What a waste. You’re too handsome for that. How about… I at least give you a kiss as thanks?”

Adam looked torn. Guilt warred with temptation across his face. 'I’ve hurt Maya before. What makes me any better than her cheating ex? I don’t deserve kindness, let alone affection.'

“I… Imogen, I’m not a good man,” he said quietly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you I’m not someone who deserves gifts. Only punishment.”

“You rejected me,” she said, her breath hitching, fingers sliding to her own mask. “Because you thought I was ugly?”

She let the mask fall away.

Adam froze. His world tilted.

That face.

That face…

“M—Ma…” His tongue stumbled over the name. It couldn’t be. Could it?

“See?” Imogen whispered, her expression soft, innocent. “I’m not so bad to look at, am I?”

There was nothing seductive in her gaze. No trick. No games. Just quiet vulnerability wrapped in a beautiful face.

And somehow, that made it worse.

Adam stayed frozen, but Imogen mistook his silence for agreement. Slowly, she leaned in and kissed him — soft, light, but warm.

Her bare skin brushed against him as she pressed closer, the swell of her chest peeking from beneath her strapless dress, grazing his body.

Soft. Warm. Enough to make her panties damp.

And Adam?

Hard.

Very hard.

Imogen’s eyes widened, delighted. “Wow… and here you said you couldn’t function?”

A mischievous grin tugged at her lips. “Now I’m dying to know how healthy you really are.”