12. Magnolia Steel

Chapter 12

Magnolia Steel

The faintest hint of morning slips into the room, barely peeking around the edges of the blackout shades. The soft glow casts everything in muted shadows, just enough light to make out the shape of him beside me.

My eyes drift over him, taking in every detail, savoring the sight of him sprawled out on the bed. The sheet lies low on his hips, barely covering him. He’s naked underneath—completely—and that knowledge makes my pulse skip. The dark waves of his glossy jet-black hair stand out against the stark white of the pillow, a contrast that draws my gaze, much like everything about him.

As my gaze roams, it traces the sharp line of his jaw, the proud slope of his nose, and the curve of his lips. His chest rises and falls with steady breaths, the intricate tribal tattoos etched into his skin shifting subtly with each inhale. My gaze trails down to his waist, the sheet clinging to his hips, teasing me with what lies beneath.

He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever been with. More than that, he’s the sexiest… a literal dream. And last night? It was everything I imagined and then some.

Hotter than a skillet of cornbread.

Every fantasy I’ve ever had… he made them real. And then there were things I didn’t even know I wanted until he gave them to me.

Caesar wasn’t just good. He was a giver, not a taker, not the kind of man who’s only interested in his own pleasure. He gave himself completely. And the way he touched me was like every inch of me mattered, even the imperfect parts. It was more than I ever dared hope for.

I lie here, drinking in the sight of him, knowing I’ve never experienced anything like last night. This man is special. That much I know.

He stirs beside me, shifting under the sheets. His dark lashes flutter for a moment, and then his eyes meet mine, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” I whisper back, warmth spreading through my chest simply from the way he looks at me.

He stretches slightly, his muscles shifting under the sheet. “Didn’t sleep well? Was the bed uncomfortable?”

I shake my head, my lips curving into a playful smile. “The bed was wonderful. And so was my bedmate.”

His laugh is low and easy, the kind of sound that makes me want to hear it again. “I was pretty pleased with my bedmate too.”

I prop myself up on one elbow, rubbing my hand over the sheet, appreciating its softness. “I don’t sleep with men afterward. It’s not something I do.”

It takes a lot of trust to close your eyes and sleep beside someone. But that’s not what kept me awake. It wasn’t fear or discomfort, rather the rush of something I’m not used to. Dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin—a mix of all the feel-good hormones that happens after a night like we had. That’s what kept me up.

After all, he made me come twice before midnight… and I lost count during the small hours.

Concern tugs at his features. “I hope I wasn’t the reason you didn’t sleep.”

A laugh slips from my lips. “Oh, Julius Caesar. You absolutely disturbed my sleep but in the best way possible.”

He shifts a little closer, the warmth of his body radiating through the thin sheet. “Good. That’s exactly what I was going for.”

Caesar glances over at the clock on the nightstand. “Five in the morning,” he says, rubbing a hand down his face. “Too early for breakfast?”

I smile lazily, still enjoying the warmth of the bed. “I’m not an early eater.”

“I’m an all-the-time eater.”

I can see why. He’s easily double my size—broad, powerful, every inch of him solid muscle. I can’t even begin to imagine how many calories it takes to maintain a body like his.

“I’ll take some coffee.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll order extra food. You can have whatever you want.”

Before I can protest, he reaches for the phone on the nightstand and dials room service. I listen, amused, as he rattles off the order—it sounds like enough food for four people, maybe six. Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, fruit, pancakes, and everything else under the sun.

When he hangs up, a chuckle rumbles from his chest. “It takes a lot to keep me going.”

“Yeah, I see that.”

“You’ll need to get the door when breakfast arrives. I can’t be seen by the staff.”

I hadn’t even thought about that. Of course, he’d need to avoid being seen by his employees.

“You know they’re going to realize I’m not eating all that food by myself.”

“They’ll assume you’ve got a man up here. It just can’t be me they see.”

I’m not the least bit offended. It makes sense. Just as I’m asking the same of him when it comes to my coworkers. “I absolutely get it.”

He gives an understanding nod, and for a moment, we lie there, the easy quiet settling between us. Then I stretch, reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed but knowing I must. “I should get up and put something on before breakfast arrives.”

“Turn on more of your weird music first to get the day started.”

I narrow my eyes, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. “You like my music.” I scroll through my playlists, setting it to shuffle on my favorite one.

He shakes his head, laughing. “No, I don’t. I’m just amazed that you actually like it.”

The familiar beat of a retro track fills the room, and I laugh, knowing full well he doesn’t mind it as much as he pretends.

I slip out of bed and make my way to the bathroom, feeling the cool marble under my bare feet. The moment I close the door behind me, I stretch slowly—and wince. Yeah, I’m definitely going to feel this all day.

Every ache is a souvenir from an unforgettable night, reminding me that he fucked me good and fucked me long. I earned every ounce of this soreness.

I turn on the faucet, splashing cool water on my face to wake up, then glance around the space. The bathroom is all sleek lines, soft lighting, and luxury at every turn. A door catches my eye, and when I open it, I find a plush robe and matching slippers waiting inside.

The robe’s fabric is as soft as a pillowy cloud, wrapping me in its luxurious warmth the moment I slip it on. The slippers are indulgent as well, cradling my feet with every step.

Adjusting the belt of the robe, I catch my reflection in the mirror. The perks of staying in a penthouse are definitely something I could get used to.

Stepping out of the bathroom, my eyes are immediately drawn to him. He’s sprawled on the bed, lying on his back with his arms propped behind his head, his strong biceps on full display. And then there’s the unmistakable evidence of his arousal—unrelenting and impossible to ignore.

“Apologies,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Thoughts of last night crossed my mind while you were in the bathroom, and… well, this happened.” The playful curve of his lips leaves no doubt he’s savoring every second of the memory.

A soft laugh escapes me as I step closer to the bed, stopping beside him. “Come here,” I say, a smile playing on my lips.

He stretches his legs out, easing himself to the edge of the mattress until his feet rest on the floor. I approach him and straddle his lap, my arms encircling his neck as I settle onto him. My knees press against the sides of his hips, and our bodies meld together in a warm embrace.

From the speakers above, one of my favorite songs plays––“Look What You’ve Done to Me” by Boz Scaggs. The slow tempo is exactly what I need for what I have in mind, making it the perfect soundtrack for my plans.

My sore thighs quiver as I gradually lower myself onto him. As he slides deeper, I gasp and grip his shoulders, feeling every inch of him stretching me in the most exquisite way. I savor the sensation of being completely filled by his length, an intense feeling of both pleasure and pressure. My body trembles as I take him in fully, all the way to the hilt.

I lift myself onto my knees and lower myself, repeating the motion over and over. Our bodies move in unison, a slow and steady rhythm that consumes us both in an intense dance of passion.

His hands are gentle but firm as they hold on to my hips, guiding me and meeting my movements with subtle thrusts upward. His voice, deep and velvety, is filled with raw desire as he exhales the words, “The way you feel wrapped around me is un-fucking-believable.”

With my arms draped around his shoulders, I move up and down, my hips rolling in perfect rhythm with the music. Every movement is deliberate and delicious, as I savor him moving inside me and embrace the moment fully. “You promised me the time of my life. But maybe I’m the one who’s going to give you the time of your life.”

“This is a damn good start.” His words spill out in a low, husky murmur that sends shivers racing down my spine.

He grips my hips, his palms imprinting on to my skin as he guides my movements. Our eyes are locked in an unbreakable gaze, filled with primal desire and unwavering determination. The sound of our breaths fills the space between us as I ride him with a steady pace. Our bodies move together in a seductive rhythm, each movement igniting an inferno of pleasure that consumes us both.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he says.

I nod, unable to speak.

His fingers dig into my skin, gripping me with a fierce intensity as his body moves in perfect synchronization with mine. Each thrust brings us closer to the edge, the heat between us building with every movement.

He lets out a deep groan, his movements becoming slower and deeper. I squeeze tightly around him, eager to bring him to the brink of ecstasy. In one last powerful thrust, he drives himself deeply into me and releases with a strong pulse. The overwhelming sensation consumes me, and I cry out as pulsating waves of pleasure wash over my entire body, fully embracing the moment.

He gently brushes my hair away from my face, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. A contented sigh escapes me as I nestle closer to his chest.

“That was amazing,” he says, his lips lingering against my skin. “Again.”

“Mm-hmm.” The small murmur of agreement is soft and content as I snuggle deeper into his embrace.

“The chemistry between us is something else.”

“Unmatched.” I steal a quick kiss from his lips as the doorbell chimes through the penthouse suite. “Looks like your breakfast has arrived, sir.”

When I return from answering the door, I stop in my tracks, laughter bubbling up. Caesar is standing by the bed wearing the other robe from the bathroom closet—or at least he’s attempting to wear it. It doesn’t come close to closing over his broad chest, and the loosely knotted belt barely keeps it in place. At least he’s got boxer briefs on underneath though they don’t exactly conceal how impressively built he is.

My attention shifts to the absurd spread of food on the cart—plates piled high with pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausages, fruit, and at least three different kinds of toast. I stare at it, wide-eyed. “Are you seriously planning to eat all of that?”

Caesar’s towering frame makes the dining cart look like a piece of dollhouse furniture. “I’m two centimeters shy of two meters tall and I weigh 109 kilograms. What do you think?”

I’m out of my depth on this one without some math. “I’m American. That means absolutely nothing to me unless I pull out a calculator.”

“All right, yank babe. I’m just about six feet six and 240 pounds.”

My jaw slackens. I knew he was big, but hearing the numbers said out loud proves how massive he is.

“Are you sure wrestling wasn’t your old gig?” I give him a slow once-over. “Because you’re looking an awful lot like Roman Reigns but with shorter hair.”

He tips his head back, his laugh deep and unrestrained. “Not wrestling. And I can promise you I’m definitely not Roman Reigns.”

“Well, you should’ve been a wrestler. You’d fit right in with Roman and The Rock.”

“What I did was tougher than scripted wrestling.”

Curiosity tugs at me. “ Who are you ?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. “I could figure it out, you know. A quick internet search and I’d have all the answers.”

A playful challenge burns in his gaze. “So why don’t you?”

“Because I like the mystery. It’s more fun not knowing.”

He nods slowly. “I get that.”

Caesar tears into breakfast like a man who hasn’t eaten in a week, devouring pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast, and fruit like it’s a warm-up round. I sip my coffee, quietly amazed at how much food he’s packing away.

“You didn’t eat like this last night,” I say as he finishes the first plate.

He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “That’s because Chloe’s dinner portions were a joke. I went to bed starving.”

“Starving, huh? You poor, deprived thing.”

He winks, and my heart betrays me with that infuriating flutter it’s been doing since I met him.

“Do you plan to shower here?”

He leans back, stretching his arms with a groan. “I have meetings today, so I’ll have to go home for a clean suit. I’ll shower there.”

It’s weird, but I already miss him even though he’s still here. “Okay.”

He glances at the clock, then back at me with a reluctant smile. “I hate to rush off, but I need to get going.”

I nod, trying not to let my disappointment show. “Of course. The day waits for no one.”

He slips into his clothes from last night. “I don’t want to smother you, but I’d like to see you again… as soon as you’ll let me.”

A calm warmth spreads through me. “Text me after your meetings. We’ll figure something out.”

A playful glint lights up his eyes. “Happy to. But I’m going to need your number first.”

I laugh, shaking my head at the absurdity. “Oh my God, we’ve already spent the night together, and I haven’t even given you my number yet. That’s absurd.”

He chuckles, leaning in with a teasing smirk. “Seems fitting since we’ve been doing everything out of order and breaking all the rules.”

We exchange phones, and I type my number into his. When I hand it back, he glances at the screen, smirking. “There. You’re in. And you’re already making it into my favorites list.”

“A favorite already? That’s pretty bold.”

He shrugs, that teasing grin still firmly in place. “Bold and accurate.”

I grin, typing his name into my phone. “Julius Caesar,” I say aloud, shaking my head. “JC.”

“My alias is starting to grow on me.”

We hesitate by the door, neither of us ready to let the moment end. His eyes darken, and before I can overthink it, he pulls me close—one hand sliding into my hair, the other settling firmly around my waist. The kiss is slow, deep, and says everything we haven’t put into words.

When we finally pull back, breathless, our foreheads rest together. “See you later, favorite,” he whispers, his voice rough around the edges.

“Later, JC,” I say softly.

With a longing look and a half smile, he steps onto the private elevator, leaving behind the faint scent of him and a smile that won’t soon leave my face.

I glance at the clock on the nightstand: 6:15 a.m. Grabbing my phone, I open the weather app to check the time in Charleston. Perfect. Violet will be finishing work soon, and the conversation I need to have with her is definitely NSFW ––not safe for work.

Setting the phone aside, I head to the bathroom for a quick shower, hoping to clear my head. The warm water cascades over me, washing away the lingering tension of the night. Once I’m out, I wrap myself in the robe, towel off my hair, and grab my phone again. Switching to speaker, I dial Violet’s number while moving around the room, bracing myself for the conversation ahead.

The phone rings twice before she answers. “Well, well.” Violet’s words come through, sharp with playful curiosity. “Twice in one week? Either you’ve caused a scandal or uncovered one. Spill it.”

I grin, propping my phone on the counter in the bathroom. “I haven’t uncovered anything.”

“Which means you’ve started one. All right, Steel, I’m ready. Hit me with it.”

There’s really no way to ease into this. “I went to dinner with Julius Caesar last night.”

It’s probably best to drop the headline and then give her a moment to process before I dive into the rest.

“Oh my God. You actually went for it.” I can’t tell if Vi is about to congratulate me or give me a lecture.

“Oh yeah. I went for it.” All night long and then again this morning.

“I need the play-by-play—don’t leave out a single detail. Was it sparks? Fireworks? Or are we talking full-on Fourth of July?”

I laugh, deciding to start at the beginning. “We went to dinner first. And then we had an in-depth conversation about what spending time together would look like. And we decided to enter into an arrangement .”

There’s a beat of silence.

“What kind of arrangement ?” Suspicion practically drips through the line. “And don’t you dare sugarcoat this, Magnolia.”

“We’ll have three months of fun together—just the two of us, completely under the radar. No one will know, especially not anyone from Soul Sync.”

“Aren’t the others staying right next door to you in the hotel?”

“Yes. That’s why he moved me to the penthouse with a private elevator––to make it easier to keep things private.”

“Wait, hold on one damn minute.” Her voice shoots up an octave. “You’re staying in a penthouse on the down-low? And he’s going to fuck you while he searches for his wife?”

It sounds downright awful when she says it like that.

“No, Vi. He’s called off the wife search for now.”

“Well, damn. I’ve gotta hand it to you, Mags—you really know how to land yourself in the middle of some shituations .”

She’s not wrong. “What can I say? It’s my superpower.”

“Yeah, but this one’s risky. You’re getting involved with a client. What happens if someone finds out? Or worse—what if he decides to cut things off and you’re left picking up the pieces? Have you thought about that?”

“I didn’t plan for this to happen, Vi. But it did. And I like him. I really like him. It’s only three months, and I’m okay with that. My heart is very aware.”

She hesitates, her words gentler now. “That’s surprisingly vulnerable for you. Seriously, Mags, that’s not like you at all.”

I pause, chewing on my bottom lip as her words settle in. “No, I guess not. But there’s something about him, Vi. I know it’s fast, but it feels so exciting.”

Her words soften, carrying both warmth and caution. “Look, I’m glad you’re letting someone in. That’s a big deal for you. But promise me you’ll be careful. Protect your heart, Mags. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I won’t let that happen.” The words feel lighter than they should, hovering somewhere between determination and doubt.

“Please don’t let yourself fall in love with him.”

I roll my eyes as I lean against the bathroom counter. “Relax. There’s no danger of that. I know exactly what this is. It’s the here and now—nothing more.”

Her words lose some of their playful edge. “It worries me because I’ve never heard you this excited about a guy before. Ever.”

“That’s because I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s ridiculously good-looking. And, well… the sex is incredible.”

“You know what my two cents are: don’t fall in love. Don’t fall pregnant. And don’t fall victim to some kind of infection in your pussoir that none of us can pronounce.”

Pussoir . That’s a new one. Trust Violet to coin a term that’s equal parts cringeworthy and hysterical. Leave it to her to make serious advice sound like a stand-up routine.

“And please don’t make me use up my vacation days to fly halfway around the world to pick up the pieces if he breaks your heart, okay?”

While I appreciate her concern, it’s not needed. “I know what I signed up for, Vi. Three months and then we’re done. We walk away—it’s that simple. I’ve got this.”

Violet makes a small, doubtful sound but doesn’t press further. “Okay. Just as long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” I will the confidence in my voice to be convincing.

“Fine. But I swear, if you land yourself in some international drama, I’m showing up with a megaphone and a hell of a lot of ‘I told you so.’”

She absolutely would. “Noted.”

“Love you, Mags. And remember—don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves me with a whole lot of nothing.”

Her words carry a quiet plea. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will, Vi. Love you.”

“Love you too. Talk soon.”

I hang up, still smiling, the plush penthouse robe draped over me and the faint scent of him lingering in the air—a reminder that no matter how I spin it to Violet, I’ve definitely found my way into trouble.

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