All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Runaway Bride: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

The question hung between us like the last note of the song. I kept my eyes on the candle, then dragged them back to him. My fingers toyed with the stem of my glass because I needed something to do with my hands.“Maybe,” I said quietly. “Let’s see how things go.”His brows lifted a fraction. “Maybe.”I nodded once and forced my shoulders back. “Yes. I’m not giving you a trophy at dinner. We can… try. No grand labels yet.”He leaned in, elbows on the table, eyes steady on mine. “We already have the label. You just do not want to say it.”I pushed my chair back a little and breathed out through my nose. “I am saying what I am comfortable with.”“Fine,” he said. He glanced at the view, then back at me. “Then we leave here and go to my place.”I blinked, fingers tightening on the clutch in my lap. “Excuse me?”“You will sleep over,” he said, voice calm. “If we are trying, then we are not pretending after dessert. You are coming home with me.”I let out a short laugh and shook my head. “Y

The car slowed to a stop in front of a tall glass building. The valet opened my door, and I stepped out, clutching my bag tight against me. James walked around casually, as if he hadn’t just dragged me into this situation with the ease of someone who always got his way.Inside, the lobby gleamed with marble floors and high ceilings. The doorman greeted him by name, nodding politely at me before pressing the elevator button. James’s hand rested low on my back as we stepped inside, guiding me forward without a word.The elevator doors closed. My chest rose too fast in the confined space. His reflection stared back at me from the mirrored wall, his suit still flawless, while mine betrayed the flush across my cheeks.“Relax,” he murmured.“I am relaxed,” I said sharply.His hand slid a fraction lower. “No, you are not.”My breath caught. I turned my face toward the glowing numbers above the door, pretending not to notice his fingers flexing against me.When the elevator opened, he led me

The water finally shut off with a twist of his hand. My breath was ragged, my skin flushed under the steam. Before I could move, James slid his arms under me and lifted me effortlessly, my wet body pressed against his chest.I gasped, clutching at his shoulders. “Put me down.”He smirked, droplets running down his jaw. “Not a chance.”He carried me bridal style out of the bathroom, water dripping from my hair onto his chest. My thighs brushed against his arm, heat still pulsing low between them. He didn’t bother reaching for clothes. A towel was slung carelessly over his shoulder, forgotten, as if he already knew I wouldn’t need it.“James,” I hissed, shifting in his hold. “I can walk.”His lips brushed the side of my ear. “I like carrying you.”My body betrayed me with a shiver. His chest vibrated with a low chuckle as he stepped into the bedroom, the city lights spilling across the floor. He set me down on the bed, the sheets cool against my wet skin. The towel dropped from his shou

His mouth was still on mine, hot and urgent, when his hands slid higher up my thighs. My body tensed as his grip tightened, pulling me forward until my hips were pressed against the edge of the counter.“James,” I whispered, clutching at his shirt. “We can’t—”He kissed me harder, swallowing the words. “We can,” he murmured against my lips.His hands spread me open, thumbs dragging along the inside of my thighs. The cool surface of the counter pressed against the back of my legs, a sharp contrast to the heat pooling low in my stomach. I tried to steady myself, but my nails only dug deeper into his shoulders.“Tell me you want this,” he said, his eyes dark, his breath harsh.My lips trembled. “I want—”His fingers slipped under the hem of the shirt I wore, dragging it up until it bunched at my waist. His eyes flicked down, lingering at the sight of me bare beneath it. A sound rumbled low in his throat, something that made my pulse spike.“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, kissing me agai

The silence after he left felt too heavy. I sat on the couch, the glow from the TV flickering across the room, the forgotten pasta still on the table. My stomach twisted. He hadn’t even looked at me properly when he walked out.I stood and wrapped the shirt tighter around me, padding barefoot across the floor. His apartment was too clean, too sharp, like him. But little details peeked out if you looked close enough. A shelf in the corner held a few old trophies, the kind kids won for sports. I picked one up carefully, my fingers brushing the faded engraving. Soccer. He had been a kid once, awkward and normal. That thought unsettled me more than I expected.I moved to the study, running my hands across the spines of his books. Law. Business. A few classic novels that looked untouched. But between them sat a framed photo, smaller, older. James as a boy, standing beside a woman who looked like his mother, his arm stiff at his side. His expression wasn’t the sharp mask he wore now. He loo