Chapter 234
“Mark? What mark?”
Khloe tilted her head slightly, more amused than concerned, completely unaware of anything unusual behind her ear.
Nick’s gaze darkened as his fingers lingered at the back of her neck.
“A red birthmark,” he said quietly. His voice lowered further, almost as if he was speaking into her skin. “It’s small… hidden… but—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
“But what?” Khloe asked, finally turning to look at him.
The moment she faced him, Nick stepped in.
His movements were swift—too swift.
In one breath, he had her backed against the kitchen cabinet. One hand braced beside her, the other already steadying the back of her head so she wouldn’t bump it.
The space between them vanished.
Khloe’s breath caught.
Nick’s face was close now—too close. His eyes were dark, controlled, but something unrestrained flickered underneath.
“But…” His voice dropped, roughened with restraint, “…it’s distracting.”
Khloe blinked. “Distracting?”
“Very,” he said simply. Then, softer, almost dangerously honest: “I keep thinking about it.”
Before she could respond, he kissed her.
It wasn’t abrupt—but it was absolute.
Khloe’s thoughts scattered instantly, a soft sound escaping her as her hands instinctively gripped his shoulders.
The kiss deepened, unhurried yet consuming, as if he had all the time in the world and no intention of stopping.
Khloe tried to shift back slightly, but there was nowhere to go. Cabinet behind her, his body in front of her, his hand at her waist anchoring her in place.
Nick lifted her without effort.
Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he held her closer, as if that distance was never meant to exist in the first place.
Khloe’s breath turned uneven.
“Nick…” she murmured, half protest, half surrender.
His hand slid toward the hem of her shirt—
Then the phone rang.
Sharp. Relentless.
The sound sliced through the warmth in an instant.
Khloe turned her head slightly. “My phone—”
Nick didn’t move.
It rang again.
And again.
Finally, with visible irritation, he reached over and grabbed it before she could.
An unknown number flashed on the screen.
Khloe reached for it immediately, intending to decline the call—but Nick pressed answer instead.
His expression had cooled in an instant.
“Khloe…”
Trey’s voice came through the speaker, tight, controlled—but not quite steady.
“… Why did you block my number?”
Khloe’s brows drew together at once. She tried to reach for the phone again.
Nick shifted slightly, blocking her hand without even looking away from her face. His grip on her waist tightened just enough to keep her still.
He was listening.
Quietly.
Intently.
“Khloe…” Trey continued, softer now, almost pleading. “I’ve missed you.”
The words landed in the air like something unwelcome.
Khloe’s expression hardened.
Nick’s eyes didn’t move from hers. But the tension in his body shifted—subtle, dangerous, contained.
He wanted to hear her response.
That much was obvious.
Khloe exhaled slowly, forcing clarity back into her voice despite the lingering warmth between them.
“Trey,” she said coldly, “stop calling me.”
A pause.
“I’ve already made it clear. We have nothing to do with each other anymore.”
Her voice steadied further.
“And I’m married.”
The moment she said it, Nick’s hand tightened at her waist again.
Not possessive in panic—but in possession affirmed.
Khloe felt it instantly.
Her breath faltered for half a second.
And in that brief silence—
Nick kissed her again.
Slower this time.
Deeper.
As if the world on the other end of the call no longer existed at all.