Chapter 16 Shadows and Steam
SHADOWS AND STEAM
After calling me his prize, he winked at me and had officially won this round by a landslide.
As I had no comeback for that, and he knew it, which was why he walked his delectable-looking ass into the dressing room.
As for me, I flopped back on the bed and pulled the covers over my head, groaning into them, wondering if I would ever get used to this.
But that thought alone brought on a whole new amount of worry, questioning what the future held for us both, and where we went from here.
A sudden movement shattered the quiet, and the covers were suddenly gone. One second, I was safely hidden beneath them, cocooned in my own temporary denial. Next, they were being dragged clean off me, leaving me completely exposed to the cool air and, far more importantly, to him.
I yelped, twisting instinctively as I reached for them, my hands grasping at nothing as he held the fabric just out of reach. His gaze was already sweeping over me in a way that made heat rise instantly to my face.
“Hmm, should I be concerned that you’re hiding under the covers?” he mused, far too calmly for someone who had just robbed me of all dignity.
“I wasn’t hiding,” I shot back quickly, which was a complete lie. My attempt at grabbing the covers again only made things worse when he lifted them higher, entirely unbothered by my efforts.
The worst part…
He was fully dressed, and I very much wasn’t.
But now, instead of the sharp, well-dressed businessman, or the demonic overlord, was something else entirely.
That formal edge I was so used to was now replaced with something far more relaxed, far more dangerous in its own way.
Dark jeans, fitted just enough to be unfair, paired with a black shirt that sat perfectly against him, open at the collar in a way that somehow made it worse. More casual.
More… real.
My gaze flickered over him before I could stop it.
Which was a mistake because his eyes didn’t miss it. No, if anything, they darkened.
“Careful,” he murmured, his voice low with quiet amusement, though his attention hadn’t left me for a second.
“I might start thinking you like what you see.”
“Oh, please,” I huffed, even as I made another attempt to grab the covers, which he once again denied me with far too much ease.
But before I could duel back with another witty reply, my stomach betrayed me. The sound was loud enough that he would never miss it.
I froze for half a second before instinctively bringing a hand to my stomach, as if that might somehow silence it after the fact. A small groan slipped from me as I dropped my head back against the pillows.
“Okay, in my defense,” I muttered, already feeling the heat creep up my neck,
“I did say I was hungry.”
A slow, knowing look crossed his face as his gaze dipped briefly, not to my stomach, but to me.
To the way I was still half reaching for the covers, half trying to recover what little dignity I had left.
Although the blinding daylight streaming through the windows was making that impossible, as there was nowhere for me to hide.
“I know which first meal of the day I’d prefer to eat,” he said with a knowing grin, staring unapologetically at my pussy and actually licking his lips.
Hence why my breath caught.
And just like that, any lingering composure I might have had disappeared entirely as I made one final, this time successful, grab for the covers. Fisting them in my hand and dragging them up and around me as I sat up quickly. I then wrapped them firmly around myself like a shield.
“Well,” I said, lifting my chin slightly despite the situation,
“So, what about that breakfast then?”
The corner of his mouth lifted, something far too knowing settling into his expression as he finally let the moment stretch just a fraction longer.
“I have better ideas.”
“Oh?” My brow arched immediately.
He stepped closer then, just enough to close the distance slightly, his gaze holding mine with that same quiet certainty that seemed to follow everything he said.
“I want to take you to lunch,” he said.
“We can consider it our first date, if you prefer.”
Something in my chest lifted at that, the kind of reaction I didn’t even try to hide as a grin spread across my face.
“Well, considering how well our first date ended,” I replied, unable to stop the smile that tugged at my lips,
“I think we should call this one our second.” That did it. A quiet chuckle left him, something warmer slipping into his expression as he leaned down, closing the distance between us once more. His hand brushed lightly against my cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to my lips.
“Mm, second date it is,” he murmured against my mouth.
And just like that…
The moment shifted again, and I melted into his touch, kissing him back, no matter how short it was. He then ran the backs of his knuckles down my cheek and told me,
“I won’t be long.”
After this, I watched him walk away, and the door had barely clicked shut behind him before I let myself fall back against the headboard. My body sank into the mattress as though the last hour had finally caught up with me, a soft, breathless laugh escaping before I could stop it.
A slow, dreamy sigh followed, unrestrained and entirely unashamed as I let my head tip back. My eyes fell closed for just a moment while the lingering warmth of him seemed to settle deeper into my skin. The scent of him wrapped around me in a way that felt almost impossible to ignore.
It was ridiculous, completely and utterly ridiculous, and yet the smile that spread across my face refused to fade. The kind that would have made me cringe if I could actually see it for myself.
“Oh yeah, you're in trouble now,” I muttered to myself under my breath, though there was no real bite to it.
Only amusement as I exhaled softly and pushed myself upright.
The room already feeling different without him, as though something essential had left with him despite the lingering traces he had left behind.
With one last stretch, I threw the covers back and slipped from the bed, padding across the floor without a second thought. The cool air brushing over my skin as I made my way into the bathroom, the mirror catching me the second I stepped inside.
I paused then, my gaze dragging slowly over my reflection, taking in the faint flush still lingering in my cheeks.
I naturally cringed at the wild mess of my hair, and then lower, my fingers lifting almost instinctively to brush lightly along my neck.
To the place where I knew he had been, where I had felt him most.
And there it was.
A mark.
Faint, but unmistakable, not just a bruise but something deeper. Something that felt almost intentional in a way I couldn’t quite explain. My fingertips were hovering over it as though I wasn’t entirely sure whether to touch it or not, my pulse quickening slightly as the reality of it settled in.
Would it scar?
The thought came uninvited, slipping into place before I could stop it, and worse still was the almost dangerous part of me that didn’t entirely hate the idea. That wondered what it would mean if it stayed, if it didn’t fade like everything else was supposed to.
My lips parted slightly at that, my brows drawing together as I stared at my reflection. The weight of that thought lingered for just a fraction too long before I forced myself to shake it off. Now turning away from the mirror with a quiet exhale.
After this, I turned on the shower and, whilst I waited for the water to heat up, I used the toilet.
The water roared softly as the space filled quickly with warmth.
Moments later, I stepped beneath it, letting the water cascade over me, soaking through my hair and trailing down my skin in a way that felt grounding.
Like it might wash away the strange tangle of thoughts I had no intention of untangling just yet.
For a while, I let myself relax into it, letting the heat sink into my muscles as my hands moved through my hair, working the shampoo I had packed into my roots. Then, without much thought, my head tipped back slightly as the steady rhythm of it all lulled me into a quiet, almost thoughtless calm.
Until something shifted.
It was subtle at first, barely noticeable, a slight change in the way the light filtered through the steam.
A distortion that didn’t quite make sense, and my movements slowed instinctively as my gaze flicked toward the glass.
They then narrowed toward the blurred shape that seemed to form beyond it.
A shadow.
Too large to be nothing and too solid to ignore.
My breath caught, the calm from moments ago slipping away far too quickly as unease curled tightly in my chest. My pulse was picking up in a way that felt far too loud in the enclosed space as I forced my hand to move slowly, cautiously, toward the handle.
As though I wasn’t entirely sure what I would find on the other side.
And just as my fingers were about to close around it, the door swung open. A scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.
The intruder swore under his breath, scrambling slightly as he grabbed for balance, one foot bracing awkwardly against the handle as he hauled himself up. Doing so just enough to reach me, and then his hand was over my mouth, firm and urgent as his eyes darted briefly toward the door.
“Shh,” he hissed, his voice sharp with urgency, his breath uneven as he leaned closer.
“Do you want to get us both killed, girly?!”
My heart was still racing, my breath coming fast against his palm as I stared at him in shock, my hands gripping instinctively at his arm as my mind struggled to catch up with what I was seeing.
Bo.
He stared back at me, just as stunned and just as breathless. In that moment, with the steam curling around us both, the dreamy calm of the morning shattered completely.