บททั้งหมดของ Tempting My Alpha Daddy : บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

{~Cherry Reed~} The kiss stretched longer than I expected, long enough for time to blur at the edges, long enough for my thoughts to slip somewhere quiet and distant. It wasn’t rushed anymore, not like the first second he’d pinned me to the bed. It slowed, deepened, settled into something that felt… more romantic. To me, he'll always feel like more. Because my feelings are involved and I wish his were too. By the time Nathaniel finally pulled away, my lips felt warm and tingling, my chest rising and falling a little too fast. He lingered there for a second, close enough that I could still feel his breath against my skin, before he straightened and stepped back. The sudden space felt… wrong. I stayed where I was, staring up at the ceiling, my mind blank in that hazy, floating way that made it hard to hold onto anything solid. Whatever little frustration I’d been clinging to earlier had dissolved somewhere between the pool and this moment. I couldn’t even fully remember why I’d

{~Cherry Reed~} I turned my phone back on the same day Nathaniel and I kissed. I know. I’m disappointed in myself too. Three whole days of ignoring him, of actually sticking to something for once, and I folded the second things felt soft between us again. It was stupid. Predictable. Very me. But I couldn’t help it. The urge sat under my skin, restless and persistent. If I couldn’t have him physically, then I wanted something. A message. A check-in. Proof that whatever this was didn’t just disappear the second he walked out of my room. I was desperate, okay? Fucking sue me for being myself! So I reached for my phone and turned it on. I immediately regretted it. Notifications flooded in like they’d been waiting for permission. Messages stacked on top of messages, names I hadn’t thought about in days suddenly demanding attention. Bella had texted a few times— nothing urgent, just her usual check-ins. Hannah, on the other hand… I frowned as I opened her messages. She clai

{~Nathaniel Cross~} Every time I think I’ve reached my limit, every time I’m convinced this is the angriest I’ve ever been, something else happens that makes the last thing feel small. Like I didn’t even know what anger was before. This time…It’s different. I’m too angry to show it. Like if I let even a fraction of it slip, it wouldn’t stop. And I can trace it back to a very specific moment. Sitting in that hotel bathroom. Staring at my reflection like I didn’t recognize the man looking back at me. Trying, actually trying, to convince myself that I was still in control of my own decisions. That I was still the kind of man who could walk out of that room, see his wife, and not hesitate to accept a kiss from her.. Because that’s what I’m supposed to be. A married man. A man who doesn’t stand there thinking that if she does kiss him, it’ll erase the taste of someone else from his mouth. His new addiction. I told myself to get over it. To step out of that bathroom and act norm

{~Nathaniel Cross~} I spent two weeks away from that house thinking. Not reacting. Not arguing. Not doing anything impulsive. Just… thinking. It gave me more clarity than I expected. The first thing I handled was the obvious problem. The theft. It didn’t take as long as it should have. The man Margaret hired wasn’t careful, he was just greedy. The kind of person who thought quick money meant easy money. I tracked him down, and when I did find the poor bastard he folded really fast. He was terrified out of his mind before I even had to do much. He gave everything up without a fight. The painting. The watches he thought he could get away with selling. Everything he took from my office. I got it all back within one hour. Every single item. The painting included. I didn’t even feel relieved when I saw it again. Just… a dull sense of completion. Like fixing something that shouldn’t have been broken in the first place. My documents were untouched. Locked where they needed

{~Cherry Reed~} I didn’t follow them. Even though every part of me wanted to. I stood there for a while after Nathaniel walked upstairs, the sound of his footsteps fading into the quiet of the house. My eyes stayed fixed on the staircase like I could somehow see through the walls, like I could hear what they were saying if I just focused hard enough. I wanted to know. I wanted to hear how my mother would explain herself. What excuses she’d come up with this time. Whether she’d finally take accountability or twist things around the way she always does. I wanted to hear Nathaniel too. His tone. His reaction. Whether he was still calm or if he’d finally snap. But I didn’t move. Didn’t take a single step toward those stairs. Because there was a possibility, one I didn’t want to admit, that this conversation wouldn’t end well. That it might be the end of something. And if it was…I didn’t want to witness it. I didn’t want to stand there and watch my mother’s second marriage