Chapter 3
Kennedy
I didn’t regret staying, not even for a second. But suddenly, I was hyperaware of being alone with him.
Nick didn’t move, just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes locked on mine. He watched me as if he were waiting for me to grasp the reality of my choice. The tension wrapped around us like smoke, thick and palpable.
I should’ve felt trapped. Instead? I felt seen.
“Changed your mind yet?” His voice sliced through the silence, low and taunting, each word laced with challenge.
“No.” I met his gaze head-on, refusing to let my resolve falter.
His smirk widened—dangerous and thrilling. “Good.”
Nick stalked forward, closing the distance between us with an intensity that made my heart race. His hands rested casually in his pockets, shoulders loose, but there was nothing relaxed about him. The air crackled with tension as he took another step, a predator eyeing its prey.
“I need you to understand something, Kennedy.” His voice held a calmness that felt like a lie. There was no softness in his tone, no hint of sweetness. He wasn’t here to comfort me; he was laying down the law. “I don’t share.”
The words dropped like a match into gasoline. I sucked in a breath, my mind racing to comprehend the weight of what he meant. This wasn’t some playful fling; it was something much darker.
“This isn’t some twisted little affair,” he continued, his gaze steady and unwavering. “You’re not a free agent anymore.”
The reality of his statement sank deep into my chest, heavy and suffocating. I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice amidst the chaos swirling inside me. “That sounds a lot like a cage.”
He stepped even closer, invading my space in a way that sent shivers down my spine. “No.” His voice dropped to a whisper, more lethal than any shout could ever be. “I don’t cage. I claim.”
His words echoed in my mind as I searched his eyes for any hint of deception. But all I saw was determination—raw and undeniable. The air felt thick between us as the truth settled in: I had crossed an invisible line tonight.
A part of me thrilled at the idea of being claimed by someone like Nick—someone wild and untamed—while another part quaked at the implications of those very words. Could I really walk away from everything I’d known? Would it even matter if I wanted to?
Nick leaned closer still, and for the first time since entering this penthouse, doubt flickered within me—a momentary pause before diving headfirst into unknown depths.
I hated the way his words sent heat licking through me, igniting something I’d kept buried for far too long.
“As long as you know you’re mine?” His thumb brushed along my jaw, tilting my chin up until I was forced to meet his gaze. “I’ll let you do whatever the hell you want.”
Right then, I knew this man would never control me the way my fiancé did. He didn’t want to possess that kind of power—and that was a huge difference. But deep down, I recognized the danger in him—he would ruin me in a way that felt intoxicating and terrifying all at once.
I shoved at his chest, desperate to break the spell he cast over me. “Get off me,” I snapped.
He caught my wrist, holding it firm but not painfully. The amusement in his tone infuriated me. “That’s cute, princess. You think you can push me away?”
Glaring up at him, my heart thundered in defiance. “Let go,” I breathed, and the words came out sharper than I intended.
He released my wrist instantly, but there was a glint in his eyes that told me he enjoyed this dance we were doing—this tug-of-war between restraint and desire. The space between us pulsed with unspoken challenges and truths neither of us wanted to voice.
“Why do you care so much?” I challenged, crossing my arms as if that could shield me from whatever magnetic pull he exerted over me.
Nick stepped back slightly, folding his arms across his chest like he was weighing my words. “Because it’s amusing to watch you pretend you don’t want this.”
My stomach twisted at his observation. He had a point—I wanted something different from what I had known, but did that mean I wanted him? Or was it simply about wanting freedom?
“You think this is amusing?” My voice shook with frustration.
“Very,” he replied without hesitation, that smirk creeping back onto his face as if he reveled in my turmoil.
I barely registered the moment he closed the distance between us. One heartbeat, two, and then his mouth crashed onto mine. No hesitation. No warning.
The shock of it sent a gasp escaping my lips, and that was all Nick needed to deepen the kiss. He consumed me with a ferocity that left no room for doubt—this man didn’t kiss like someone testing the waters; he kissed like he already owned the damn ocean.
His teeth grazed my bottom lip, and I tasted the heat radiating from him. My body responded instinctively, a rush of fire pooling in my core as I fought against the urge to surrender completely. Pride clawed at me, screaming that I should push him away, remind him of our boundaries.
But Nick was relentless.
His hands gripped my waist, holding me firmly in place as if he meant to anchor me against the storm he unleashed with every sweep of his tongue. He didn’t allow any retreat; instead; he coaxed me into giving in, his kiss demanding and urgent.
I struggled at first, pressing back against him with whatever strength I could muster. But each movement only seemed to spur him on more fiercely. The world outside faded; there was nothing but the heat of our bodies colliding and the wild rhythm of our breaths intermingling.
Nick pulled me closer still, his fingers digging into my hips like a brand meant to mark me as his own. The thought sent shivers down my spine—not entirely unwelcome. My instincts warred within me; desire battled with reason as I found myself lost in this chaotic dance.
He tasted like danger—dark and intoxicating—and it wrapped around me like smoke, thickening in the air until I couldn’t breathe without wanting more. My heart raced as I lost track of where we were or what we had been talking about before this whirlwind of sensation took over.
But in that confusion, one thing was crystal clear: resisting felt futile when every part of me craved this reckless abandon he offered.
I melted into him, surrendering to the heat that radiated from his body.
The world around us blurred into a haze, the chaos of the penthouse fading away as I let myself get lost in this moment.
His lips moved against mine with an urgency that ignited something deep within me, something I had kept locked away for far too long.
As I finally gave in, I felt him tense beneath my fingertips, every muscle coiling like a spring.
Winning this kiss had undone him. A thrill raced through me—this wasn’t just passion; it was possession.
He backed me against the bar, the cool surface pressing against my back contrasting with the fire building between us.
One of his hands gripped the edge of the bar as if he needed it for support, his other hand cradled my face with a possessive intensity that sent shivers down my spine. I could feel the raw power radiating off him; this was no longer just a reckless moment—it felt like he claimed me as his own.
I pressed back into him, hungry for more, every instinct telling me to dive deeper into this reckless abandon. Nick deepened the kiss, his breath mingling with mine, and all I could think about was how good it felt to be wanted like this.
But beneath that desire lay a current of danger—his grip firm and demanding as if he were tethering me to him in a way that made it clear I wouldn’t walk away unscathed.
“Damn,” he murmured against my lips, breaking our kiss just enough to pull back and look at me, those dark eyes alight with something primal. “You really are wild under all that good-girl facade.”
The compliment sent heat flooding through my cheeks. “You don’t know anything about me,” I shot back, though my heart raced under his gaze.
“Maybe not yet.” His smirk returned, teasing but edged with sincerity. The promise lingered between us—a challenge neither of us could ignore.
With each second ticking by, it became clearer: there would be no turning back from this moment.
His hands skimmed down my back, fingers gliding over my skin with a teasing touch that made me arch into him instinctively.
I shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t let him pull me in deeper with each movement, but the way his lips moved against my throat ignited something inside me—a wild craving I couldn’t ignore.
I wanted this. The heat of his body against mine sent sparks racing through my veins, and when his fingers traced fire along my ribs, I could barely suppress a shiver. Each whispered word against my skin—raw and unfiltered—made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t experienced before.
But then his hands dipped lower, crossing a line I didn’t know I had drawn until that moment.
I gasped, the sound escaping before I could think to stop it. It wasn’t a gasp of pleasure; it was one of surprise and uncertainty that cut through the haze of desire clouding my mind. The thrill evaporated like mist under the sun as awareness crashed back in.
Nick froze, his body tensing against mine. The playful glint in his eyes dimmed for just a heartbeat as he processed what had happened. “What’s wrong?” he murmured, searching my face for an answer.
I swallowed hard, torn between wanting to push him away and craving the connection we shared just moments before. “I—”
He stepped back slightly, releasing me as if he feared he had crossed an unspoken boundary. The space between us felt cold now, an awkward silence settling in where there had been heated whispers and longing touches.
My heart raced as I grappled with the reality of the situation. What had started as reckless abandon suddenly spiraled into something more complicated than either of us had anticipated. Did I want him? Yes. But did I want to lose myself entirely? That was another question altogether.
“Did I go too far?” His voice dropped an octave, serious now, and I sensed genuine concern beneath the bravado.
I shook my head slowly, though uncertainty flickered in my chest. Maybe it wasn’t about going too far; maybe it was about what lay beyond this moment—about everything waiting for me outside these walls.
I swallowed hard, my breath unsteady as I faced him. “I’m… I’m saving myself for marriage.”
Silence stretched between us like a taut wire.
Nick stared at me, his expression inscrutable.
I searched his face for any sign of judgment—shock, disgust, maybe even anger—but found none.
Instead, he just seemed to be processing my words, weighing them against whatever twisted version of reality he lived in.
Then, without warning, he stepped back. Completely.
The space between us expanded, and the cold air rushed in like a sudden storm.
I felt the loss of his warmth keenly, an emptiness that clawed at my insides.
It was strange; I had just declared something that had felt so resolute, yet here I was missing the heat of his body as if it had been a lifeline thrown into turbulent waters.
“What?” The word escaped me before I could think better of it. My heart raced in my chest as confusion wrapped around me like a thick fog.
Nick looked down for a moment, and when he raised his gaze again, there was something unreadable flickering behind those dark eyes—an understanding mixed with something else I couldn’t quite grasp.
“I didn’t know,” he finally said, voice steady but low.
My mind reeled with his reaction; why did this feel so significant? Why did it matter so much to him?
I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but the words stuck in my throat like stones. Instead of pushing back against his retreat, I felt myself drawn to the sincerity in his tone. There was no bravado now, no cocky smirk; just raw honesty that disarmed me.
“You don’t have to explain,” he added after a beat, but the sincerity lingered in the air like smoke from an extinguished fire.
But it wasn’t just about explanation anymore; it was about understanding—the kind that slipped through my fingers like sand when I tried to grasp it tightly.
He didn’t say anything at first. He just watched me, his gaze piercing through the uncertainty swirling in my mind. I could feel him calculating something—waiting for the right moment to strike.
Then, his lips quirked up, and the smirk that followed made my blood boil.
“So that’s where you draw the line,” he said, amusement lacing his tone.
I glared at him, heat rising in my cheeks. “You think it’s funny?”
“No.” He tilted his head, feigning consideration. “I think it’s interesting.”
Interesting? I felt like a specimen under glass, dissected and analyzed for every little detail. But there was no mocking in his voice; he seemed genuinely intrigued by my boundaries. It sent a shiver down my spine—not one of fear, but of something darker and more potent.
"This doesn't change anything," he said.
“It changes everything,” I snapped, crossing my arms tightly over my chest as if that could shield me from the intensity radiating off him.
He only smirked in response. “Nah. Give it to me. Right now. Something you can give freely. Without him telling you what to do.”
The certainty in his voice made my stomach flip. A mix of dread and thrill washed over me—he was right about one thing: I wanted this freedom more than anything else right now.
“All right then.” His smirk widened with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. “I’ll show you.”
Before I could protest or even think to step back, he ran a single finger down my arm—slow and deliberate—as if he were mapping out every inch of skin beneath his touch. My breath caught as heat ignited beneath that gentle caress.
“I don’t lose, Kennedy,” he said quietly.
And just like that, he sank down onto one knee before me.
The world around us blurred; all I could focus on was the weight of what he had just implied and the heat radiating from our shared space. My heart thundered as a wave of confusion washed over me—a reckless thrill battling against the creeping fear of losing control entirely.
What had I gotten myself into?