ADRIAN'S POVIt’s been three days. Three agonizing days of pacing, rehearsing, and ultimately failing to conjure the right words. How do you explain something so twisted, so…wrong?Damien caught me. Selena, practically straddling me in my own damn swivel chair, her lips glued to mine. It looked exactly as bad as it was. Except, it wasn’t what it looked like. Not entirely.God, I hate Selena.How do I tell Damien, my best friend, that I’m being blackmailed? That Selena, that viper disguised as a woman, is threatening to ruin me with sexual assault charges?She has proof, dammit. Forensic exam results that paint me as a predator. She’s holding them over my head, demanding I play her twisted game. And the game, of course, involves her getting whatever she wants. Right now, what she wants is me.She used that state-of-the-art diagnostic machine against me. The one our clinic desperately needs. The one Damien is secretly, obsessively fixated on. He’s been trying to play it cool, acting lik
DAMIEN'S POVI was recounting my escapades in France, the two women in the VIP section eager to impress, their expensive perfume a heady mix. Adrian was smiling, genuinely interested, which was typical of him. He'd just finished telling me about how he’d secured Selena’s approval during her surprise visit to the clinic, impressing her with our efficiency.Then the bar girls arrived. Suddenly, hands were on my shoulders, giggles filled my ears. I saw Adrian’s face. It was a fleeting expression, almost unnoticeable in the strobe lights, but there was a flicker of something…pain? Disappointment? "Excuse me," he mumbled, his voice tight. "I need to… hit the dance floor."Before I could decipher it, he was gone, swallowed by the dancing throng.The girls were draped all over me now just like the previous times I'm here. One was whispering in my ear, the other was tracing patterns on my chest. It should have been enjoyable, a standard Saturday night indulgence. But it wasn't. My mind was e
ADRIAN'S POV The phone call with Selena had ended moments ago, and my closet was already under siege. What did one wear to a "family dinner" when your role was "arm candy"? Apparently, Selena had anticipated my sartorial panic. A text popped up: "Hey Adrian, went on to this store ASAP. They were expecting you. I've already informed them to give a suit that complements the color of my gown. They will take your body measure to insure it is perfectly accentuate every part of your body."I replied, "Wow! It seems that this dinner is really something if you're going all out."Her response was immediate and laced with her signature brand of playful dominance: "Oh you will see tonight. See you handsome! For my family sake, don't went there topless okay?"I chuckled, remembering the mortifying... and apparently, memorable incident a few moments ago where I’d answered her FaceTime shirtless after showering. Selena, forever the tease.The designer store lived up to its reputation. I barely st
ADRIAN'S POVThe tension in Quinn Manor was thick enough to cut with a knife. All eyes were on me after my pathetic attempt to downplay things with Selena. "We're just getting to know each other," I'd said, like some awkward teenager. Then Mr. Quinn Sr. – Selena's grandfather, the man who could make or break empires with a snap of his fingers – had erupted in laughter. Genuine, booming laughter that echoed through the opulent dining room.Confusion warred with a growing sense of dread. I blinked, unsure if I'd misspoken, or worse, offended him. But then he smiled, a surprisingly warm, approving smile. “I like your honesty, Adrian. Your sincerity. I expected some young buck slick charmers to try and take advantage of Selena’s… situation, claim Selena as his own just for the… prestige."He glanced at Selena, a glint in his eye. "Don't lose him, dear. Put him in your pocket if you have to." He then turned back to me. "I give you my blessing. If you decide to go public, you have my full
ADRIAN'S POVThe cool leather of the couch pressed against my back, a stark contrast to the burning heat that was building inside me. The heavy oak of the bookshelf loomed above, my arm chained to it by a pair of cold, unforgiving cuffs. I was trapped.Selena took a step closer, the scent of her perfume filling my senses. She trailed a finger down my chest, each touch sending jolts of electricity through my body."And what punishment do you think you deserve, Adrian?" she whispered, her breath warm against my ear."I swear answering your call with me naked isn't intentional," I breathed, my gaze locked on hers.Her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. That smile… it promised pleasure, pain, and everything in between.She leaned down, her lips hovering just above mine. "Excuses, excuses."And with that, the torture began. A slow, delicious torture of kisses and caresses, of whispered promises and denied desires. Her fingers danced across my skin, exploring every inch of my chest, my
ADRIAN'S POV I grasped her chin and turned her head, forcing her to stare into the mirror at me. My deep, dark gaze were hooded in the dimly lit room. I withdrew my dick for a while. I seized her hip with my free hand and pulled my ass closer to me, positioning my dick right at her entrance again. "I'm going to ruin you"Before she could react and stop me, I slipped myself inside of her. I pounded into her harder and faster than I did in my past sexual escapades ever had, my thrusts long and deep. She clutched the corner of the couch in her fists and stared into the mirror above the dresser, her pussy clenching around my huge cock.After wrapping my arm around her waist, I skillfully rubbed her clit, my fingers moving between her glistening pussy lips and across her clit, back and forth and back and forth, the movement is endless."More," she moaned, I felt pressure rising in her core. "Give me more. Please."I thrust into her harder, my hands seizing her waist and fingers curling
ADRIAN'S POVThe plush velvet of the couch felt alien beneath me. I was home, technically, back in our penthouse living room, but the air hung thick with unspoken tension.I craved the oblivion of sleep, but I knew it wouldn't come. Not with Damien across from me, his presence a palpable force. He was observing me, his dark eyes narrowed, and the silence stretched, taut and unforgiving. I could practically taste the simmering frustration radiating from him, and it was all aimed at me. I felt like a cornered animal, every instinct screaming at me to flee.“What’s going on, Adrian?” His voice was low, a husky rumble that usually sent shivers down my spine.I forced a casual shrug, trying to mimic the nonchalance I usually wore like armor. "What do you mean? Everything's fine."The sound of his palm slamming against the glass coffee table shattered the tense silence. I flinched."Don’t play dumb with me. Don't lie to me, Adrian," he growled, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Something's w
ADRIAN'S POV The sunlight streaming through the blinds woke me up at 7:00 AM, a minor miracle considering I hadn't drifted off until after 2:00 AM. But I felt…lighter. Like a knot in my chest had finally loosened. Damien and I had actually talked, really talked, and cleared the air. I'd explained, perhaps clumsily, that Selena and I weren't a thing, not yet anyway, and that I knew he was just looking out for me, worried about me getting hurt. I'd also confessed why I'd switched gyms so abruptly and why I'd been avoiding him. It wasn't my proudest moment, the avoidance, but at least it was out in the open.I went through my usual morning routine, a quick shower, a shave, and then pulled on a pair of gray sweatpants and a white, fitted muscle tee. Comfort was key, especially after the emotional rollercoaster of the previous night.The kitchen was my domain. I loved the methodical process of cooking, the way simple ingredients transformed into something delicious. This morning, it was
DAMIEN'S POVMy breath hitched, finally starting to even out. My heart hammered against my ribs, a lingering echo of the raw, animalistic encounter with Nadia. Just a stranger. A fleeting connection based on nothing but mutual, undeniable need. Nothing more. Nothing Special.Once she was gone, a ghost of perfume hanging in the air, I straightened my clothes, ruthlessly erasing any trace of what had just happened. A quick spritz of air freshener – pine, thankfully – fought against the lingering scent of sex and sweat. Adrian would be here any minute.Except, the minutes stretched on, becoming a small eternity. Thirty minutes crawled by, each tick of the clock a hammer blow against my patience. Adrian was never late. Not like this. Unease coiled in my gut, a cold, constricting serpent.I pulled out my phone, fingers trembling slightly as I dialed his number. Ring, ring, ring… voicemail. I tried again. And again. Finally, on the last attempt, the line went busy. He was
DAMIEN'S POV I was leaning against my car, drumming my fingers on the cool metal, I needed to kill some time. Adrian had informed me that he’d be at least another thirty minutes, stuck in the supermarket’s rush-hour queue. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a shopping cart’s wheels rolling across the asphalt. The parking lot was bathed in the harsh fluorescent glow of the mall’s lights.I sighed, glancing at my watch, when the cart came into view. Pushing it was a woman— a vision of a woman. Her hair was a cascade of blond curls, wild and untamed, and her dress hugged her curves like it was painted on. She moved with confidence.Our eyes met, there was something electric in her gaze, a challenge, a promise. I felt my pulse quicken as she approached, her heels clicking against the pavement like a drumbeat. "Hi," she said, her voice low and husky, with a hint of an accent I couldn’t place. "I’m Nadia.""Damien," I replied, my voice rougher than I intended. I cleared my throat, trying to
ADRIAN'S POVAll throughout the afternoon, I was busy planning dinner for Damien. Roast chicken? Too simple. Pasta? He had that last night. I wanted it to be special, a proper apology for the Selena lunch debacle. God, I still felt so guilty about that. I hadn’t even explained it properly – Selena had just sent me a noticed, unexpectedly, and invited me. It was a business thing, sort of, and I hadn’t wanted to be rude. But Damien… Damien deserved better than a mumbled explanation.Of all the people in my world, it was only Damien I never wanted to disappoint. I loved him. I was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Damien. Of course, he had no idea. He only saw me as his best friend, maybe a younger brother. But to me, he was everything. His sharp wit, his mysterious aura, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he was genuinely amused… it was intoxicating.During my breaks, I busied myself listing ingredients, scribbling notes on napkins, and covertly Googling recipes. Seared T
ADRIAN'S POVIt was Monday morning, and I'd just finished my last appointment. Glancing at the digital clock on my desk, I saw it was 11:30 AM, practically lunchtime. Usually, this meant heading over to Damien's office – right across from mine – to see what he was planning to eat. It had become a ritual, a much-needed break in the day and a chance to catch up with my best friend.I was about to make my move when my phone buzzed with a text message notification. I smirked, figuring it was Damien. "Lazy bum can't even walk across the hall," I muttered to myself. But when I picked up my phone, the sender ID was Selena.Selena? It had been a while.My stomach clenched as I read her message: "Hey Adrian, it's been a while since we last saw each other. I know you've been discharged from the hospital. I guess it's time to continue our deal, right?"The "deal." A shiver ran down my spine. I'd almost managed to push it to the back of my mind during my recovery. It was a forced agreement, conco
ADRIAN'S POVThe comments exploded. Speculation ran rampant. "Who was the lucky woman? ""Was it a celebrity? ""A fellow doctor?"They had no idea."That's all I'm saying for now," I announced, cutting off the inevitable flood of follow-up questions. "Let's move on to something else."None of them knew that the song was for Damien. My best friend. My confidant. The man who had been by my side through thick and thin, through medical school, through failed relationships, through every single triumph and disaster life had thrown my way.The man I was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with.The lyrics weren't just about gratitude. They were about love. Unspoken, unrequited, simmering beneath the surface for years. The "secrets I keep" weren't just secrets. They were the agonizing words I could never bring myself to say, the confession I feared would shatter our friendship.I hope he wasn't watching the stream right now, but maybe he was laughing along with everyone else, oblivious to the
ADRIAN'S POV "’Are you single, Adrian?’" I read aloud, a grin spreading across my face. "Well, that's a popular question! And the answer is..." I paused for dramatic effect, knowing I was being a tease. "It's complicated." The comments exploded. Even behind the screen, I could feel the collective gasp and flurry of fingers typing. "Complicated... how?" "Who is it, Coach Adrian?" "Spill the tea!" I chuckled. "Okay, okay, I'll elaborate a little. There's someone... someone I care about deeply. Someone who's incredibly important to me. But the nature of our relationship… is not easily defined." I knew I was dancing around the truth, but revealing my feelings for Damien to thousands of strangers online felt like a betrayal, a violation of something sacred. My feelings for Damien were complex, a tangled web of love, admiration, and a deep-seated fear of ruining everything. He was my best friend, my protector, the closest thing I had to the family. He had rescued me from a l
ADRIAN'S POV"Where the fuck have you been, Adrian?"Damien's voice sliced through my bedroom silence like a shard of ice. I froze, rooted to the spot just inside the doorway. The air, thick with unspoken tension, crackled around me. Guilt, sharp and immediate, constricted my chest. I’d screwed up. Big time.Damien was sitting on the couch across from my room, bathed in the harsh glow of the city lights filtering through the panoramic windows. His silhouette was all sharp angles and controlled fury. He looked every inch the powerful, intimidating man he was.I snuck out. Plain and simple. Damien had an after-hours session and was having fun with his female clients. I'd been restless, cooped up in this opulent cage for what felt like an eternity. So, I’d craved a taste of normalcy, a night out, a fleeting glimpse of the life I used to have. Liberating's promises of good music and even better company had been too tempting to resist.The problem? I’d lost track of time. I was supposed to
ADRIAN'S POVIt's been two days since I was discharged from the hospital. I just got home from work at the clinic. I looked at the clock and it was almost 6:00 PM. The penthouse felt empty, silent, and lifeless. A part of me wondered if we had house staff, maybe I'd have someone to talk to when Damien isn't home.Another part of me felt blessed because I have private time with Damien when he's around. I didn't really know what to feel. It's Tuesday evening, which means Damien won't be home until at least 9:00 PM. I confirmed with Sienna that Damien did indeed have an after-hours session tonight.Right. Another woman would experience the focused intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his touch, the practiced charm that had somehow, inexplicably, been directed at me long enough for me to fall… well, for all this.I cursed myself. Two days out of the hospital, and I was already sinking back into the familiar pit of anxiety and resentment. By now, I should be numb to the thought of Damien
DAMIEN'S POVIt was Tuesday evening, the hands on my office clock inching closer to the hour when the real theatrics began. Five minutes. Just enough time for the knot in my stomach to tighten another notch. My fingers drummed a restless rhythm on the mahogany desk, a subconscious counterpoint to the sterile professionalism I was forcing myself to maintain.They were here. I could hear the distinct sound of two sets of footsteps approaching my door. The Lacrosse. Clients, technically.I straightened in my chair, plastering on the practiced, empathetic expression I reserved for these after-hours sessions. The door swung inward, revealing a man and a woman framed in the doorway. He, all sharp angles and forced charm. She, a study in nervous tension."Mr. and Mrs. Lacrosse," I said, my voice a calm, even baritone. "Come in, have a seat." I gestured to the plush chairs facing my desk.The man, Ryan Lacrosse, extended a hand, his smile wide and, I suspected, entirely disingenuous. "Hello