CHAPTER 5

She moved slowly to the edge of the bathroom glass, sliding the door open,

"The clothes, Julian?" She whispered. Biting her lips and letting her gaze roam over his naked body, sending an instant heat that made his pulse thud in his ear. 

“Right h… h… here.” he stuttered. 

She stepped into his space, her wet skin fanning a humid warmth against him. She took the t-shirt from his hand, her fingers lingering against his knuckles a little longer, enough to make him tremble.

She saw the war in his eyes, the way his breath hitched. 

"Thank you," she murmured, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. She turned her back on him, with a slow, deliberate sway of her hips as she walked back into the steam.

“Uhmmm” he let out a deep breath. 

Thalia smiled in the shower, as she began to move like a stripper, snaking her hand round the brass shower rail to pull herself up, she spread her legs so wide. his eyes followed her every move until it landed on her pointed boobs. his brain screamed at him to turn around, but the goddess in front of him had his body reacting differently. And when his eyes finally rested on her swollen pinky hole, he felt like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, and she was right there ready to push him over.

He stepped closer. his voice low, “I know you’re intentionally doing this,” 

"No... I'm just doing my job." she replied softly. 

She took her hands down, sliding two of her fingers deep into her dripping hole. 

"Mmm" she let out a melodic sigh. 

"Fuck!" he cursed with his jaw tight.

He screwed out of the bathroom mumbling a prayer or a curse thet he wasn't so sure of anymore. 

He retreated back to the bed, his knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets, his hard and aching.  

“I hate her.” he mumbled, his pride screaming at him. 

Minutes later, he looked up just as Thalia stepped out of the bathroom. Now swallowed by his oversized T-shirt that stopped right before her knees. She looked soft and almost too innocent as she sat on the edge of the bed to dry her hair. 

He watched her for a moment, as silence settled between them until his voice broke it. 

"You know," Julian said, ready to reclaim his dignity. "I’m not always like this. I've spent five years perfecting my discipline. And my company was built on the idea that men are defined by their choices and not just their urges. So... all I'm saying is that..." 

Thalia let out a long, dramatic yawn, stretching her arms until the hem of her shirt went dangerously high. I’m hungry.” 

Julian blinked, “Is that all you have to say?” 

She patted her flat stomach as it let out a faint, cry. “Your backstory isn't going to fill the void in my stomach. Get me something to eat." 

Julian let out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. "I have a private kitchen in here. But the staff are locked out, and there’s no room service now. 

"You have a private kitchen? Then make me something." she purred, getting on the bed.

"What?”

"Yeah... Show me if billionaires actually know how to cook, or if you all just pay your way through it as usual." She clutched the duvet.

"Go on. Make me something spicy." 

Julian glared at her. "I'm a CEO, Tee. I don't cook."

"And I don't either. My skills begin and end with peeling a banana. If I dare touch a pan, we'll both die in here." She buried her face in the duvet. "Figure it out quickly, or I'm going to start eating the pillows."

Then her stomach made a loud pathetic growl and she grumbled. "I'm dying in here." She cried from under the duvet. 

Julian stood up, his pride stung. "Fine. How hard can it be? It's just basic cooking right? heat up some goddamn proteins." 

Five minutes later, Julian was standing over the stove in the kitchen, everything looking foreign. He had a YouTube tutorial of how to make scrambled eggs, open on his phone, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

"Heat the pan.." he placed the pan on the stove.

"Add oil..." he muttered. 

He cracked the first egg, winching when  a piece of the shell fell inside the pan.

"Is everything okay in there, chef?"Thalia called out, dripping with mockery. "Or should I get a side of ranch for this pillow?"

"It's under control. Don't bother." Julian snapped. Ready to sear the eggs like he had just seen. 

BOOM. 

The pan caught fire as the oil hit the highest level of heat. 

"DAMN IT! FUCK!" Julian's scream followed next as it echoed through the suite, followed by the frantic flapping of the dish towel.

Thalia scrambled off the bed alarmed, she ran into  the kitchen.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She screamed at him. 

The scene was a disaster. Thick smoke filled the air, curling toward the ceiling, and triggering the silent alarm light on the wall which began to pulse red while julian stood there blowing some air in his palm. 

"It said to pre-heat the pan!" Julian yelled, now waving a napkin at the flames. "It didn't say the pan would try to assassinate me!"

Thalia managed to the kill the fire from the pan a second, and silence returned to the kitchen, save for only the sound of Julian's heavy, panicked breathing.

"You put the oil in a red-hot pan, didn't you?" Thalia asked, staring at him with wide, incredulous eyes.

Julian wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking absolutely humiliated. "The tutorial didn't specify the temperature, it only said heat the pan, so I thought more heat meant faster breakfast."

"You're a menace," she gasped, leaning against the counter for support. "You'd set us on fire just for some cheap scrambled eggs." She laughed. 

"You're ungrateful." 

"Clearly," Thalia replied, laughing.

She reached for a paper towel and began to wipe a stray bit of egg from his cheek, her touch lingering longer than it needed to. "Stay back, Mr. Valentino. I'll take over from here before you burn down the only place keeping us safe now."

Julian caught her wrist, his eyes dropping to her lips. "I thought you said your skills ended with peeling bananas?"

Thalia smirked, "I lied."