Chapter 44

‎"You look cute when you’re jealous, but today’s situation is a complete misunderstanding,” he said, his voice calm but edged with urgency as he tried to explain.

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‎Cleo’s eyes narrowed, cutting him off mid-sentence. “What’s there to misunderstand? I heard you. I heard you confess to her,” she said coldly, her displeasure written all over her face.

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‎He sighed, realizing words alone wouldn’t be enough to convince her. She had already made up her mind, and he could see the storm brewing behind her gaze. For a moment, he hesitated, but then, without another word, he stepped closer, bent down, and swept her into his arms in a sudden, bold move.

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‎“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” she snapped, squirming in his grasp, her fists pushing at his chest in protest. But despite her resistance, he held her firmly, carrying her in a bridal style as he strode toward the exit.

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‎“I swear, if you don’t put me down right now,” she began, her voice rising, then quickly dropping into a sharp whisper. “I could sue you for kidnapping, you know,” she hissed angrily, trying to keep her voice low to avoid attracting attention. She loathed public scenes, and he knew it. That was exactly why he hadn’t given her the chance to walk away and shut him out.

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‎“You won’t need to sue me if you just listen,” he said over her struggles, his expression determined. “Because I’m not letting this end over something you misunderstood.”

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‎"I'm kidnapping my girlfriend since she refuses to leave," Ryan said with a dead-serious expression that made Cleo blush despite herself. His eyes locked onto hers, unwavering, and without giving her a chance to protest, he effortlessly lifted her into his arms and strode out of the club.

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‎The music and chatter inside faded behind them as Ryan pushed through the crowd with a determined stride, never slowing down. Cleo, slightly tipsy and caught off guard by his boldness, clung to his shoulders with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

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‎When they reached his sleek black BMW parked just outside, he gently set her down and opened the passenger door. Without hesitation, he scooped her up again and eased her into the seat, buckling her in with careful hands.

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‎“Ryan…” Cleo murmured, but he had already turned away, moving around the car. He slipped into the driver’s seat, fastened his own belt, and started the engine with a low purr. The car’s lights bathed the street in a soft glow as he pulled smoothly into the night.

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‎“Where are you taking me?” Cleo asked, her voice slightly slurred from the drinks she’d had earlier, yet laced with curiosity. Her head leaned back against the seat as she unlocked her phone, fingers fumbling as she managed to send a quick message to Claire: "I left with Ryan."

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‎Ryan didn’t take his eyes off the road as he replied, calm and confident: “Home. Our home.”

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‎And with that, they disappeared into the night, leaving behind the pulsing lights of the club, and the beginning of something deeper.

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‎Meanwhile, over on Claire’s end, she had been in the restroom for nearly twenty minutes. At first, she thought maybe it was just a passing sensation, but as each minute dragged on, it became harder to ignore. Her body was overheating, not from fever, but something stranger. A warmth had settled deep inside her, pulsing in waves, and worst of all, her most intimate area was starting to itch and throb in a way that left her confused and anxious.

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‎What is happening to me? she kept asking herself, pacing in front of the mirror. Her skin felt flushed, as if she'd been running in the sun, and her lips were dry despite how many times she licked them. Her breath came shallow, and the reflection staring back at her in the mirror looked dazed, almost feverish.

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‎“What’s really going on with me?” she whispered, staring at herself with wide eyes. Her voice trembled with confusion and a hint of fear. She leaned in closer to the mirror, touching her cheek, it burned under her fingers. Her pupils were dilated, and there was a strange, almost sultry redness in her cheeks that hadn’t been there earlier.

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‎Suddenly, the door creaked open.

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‎“There you are,” came a familiar voice.

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‎Claire spun around, startled. Edward stood in the doorway, a mix of relief and curiosity in his expression. Apparently, he’d been looking for her for a while and had only just now found the right restroom.

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‎“What are you doing here?” Claire snapped, her voice tight as she fought to keep control. Her whole body felt like it was on edge, every nerve hypersensitive. She clenched her jaw, trying not to betray the chaotic storm going on inside her.

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‎“What, surprised to see me?” Edward said with a knowing smirk as he stepped into the room, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. He paused on her flushed cheeks, her slightly parted lips, the way she clutched the edge of the sink like it was the only thing holding her up.

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‎Something in his gaze darkened intrigued, maybe even stirred.

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‎Claire stiffened. She could feel the heat rise again, stronger this time, as Edward’s presence seemed to intensify whatever strange effect had taken hold of her.

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‎She stiffened, a soft gasp catching in her throat as the warmth inside her ignited into something molten. It started deep in her belly, a slow, insistent throb that spread outward, making her skin feel too tight, too aware. Edward hadn’t touched her, not yet, but the air between them pulsed with unspoken tension, thick and electric. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his eyes lingered on her lips, her collarbone, the subtle rise and fall of her chest.

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‎Her breath quickened. Every inch of her felt hypersensitive her pulse fluttering beneath her skin, her thighs pressing together instinctively. She was painfully aware of the thin fabric of her dress, how it clung to her now, brushing against her nipples that had hardened under his gaze alone.

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‎He stepped closer, and though he still hadn’t laid a finger on her, the space between them seemed to vanish. Claire's lips parted slightly, not in surprise but in anticipation of what, she wasn’t entirely sure, only that her body already knew, already ached for it. Something primal stirred beneath her practiced restraint.

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‎It wasn’t just attraction, it was desire, heat, hunger. Her knees trembled, and she leaned slightly back against the wall for support, her fingers curling at her sides, aching to reach for him, to pull him in and find out exactly how far this tension could go before it snapped.

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