8. Tessa
TESSA
The hotel room is nicer than anywhere I've ever stayed—exponentially nicer.
The king bed dominates the space, dressed in crisp white sheets that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, with a headboard upholstered in tufted gray velvet.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across one entire wall, showcasing the glittering expanse of city lights below, countless buildings lit up against the dark sky like a constellation brought down to earth.
The marble bathroom gleams through the open doorway, all pristine white stone and polished chrome fixtures, with a rainfall shower large enough for three people.
Theo ordered room service without asking what I wanted, just picked up the phone and rattled off an order like he did this sort of thing every day—which, given his income, he probably could.
Steak cooked medium-rare, creamy pasta with truffle oil, a bottle of wine that the server treated like liquid gold when he brought it up.
We ate in comfortable silence at the small table by the windows, the tension from earlier finally easing with each bite, each sip, each quiet moment that passed without another explosion.
Now I'm curled in his lap on the plush couch near the windows, the city lights casting a soft glow across his features, playing with the collar of his shirt while he traces idle patterns on my bare thigh. His fingers are warm, calloused, drawing nonsense shapes that make me shiver.
"You okay?" he asks, voice low and rough.
"Yeah. I'm sorry I freaked out." The words come out small, embarrassed. "I just—when you said the landlord ended our lease, I jumped to the worst conclusion. I thought you were... I don't know, looking for an excuse to get rid of me. Like you'd gotten what you wanted and now you needed an out."
His hand stills on my thigh. "Tessa."
"I know. I know that's not what you meant. But I panicked, and then when you said you loved me, I couldn't—" My throat tightens. "I couldn't let myself believe it. It felt too good to be true. Like if I believed you, it would hurt worse when you changed your mind."
"I'm not going to change my mind."
"I know that now. I'm sorry I didn't trust you."
"Don't apologize. I should have been clearer about my intentions from the start.
Should have told you weeks ago that this wasn't just sex for me.
That I wanted more than just fucking you in my bed every night—though I definitely want that too.
" His lips quirk in a slight smile, but his eyes are serious.
"I want everything with you. The lease ending is a pain in the ass, but it's also an opportunity.
A chance to find a place that's ours. Not mine with you living there. Ours."
My chest aches with how much I want that. How much I want him.
I nod, throat tight with emotion. "So... we're really doing this? Moving in together? Like, officially?"
"Yes. Officially. As a couple."
Heat spreads through my chest, warming me from the inside out, chasing away the last traces of doubt and fear. "I like the sound of that."
"Good."
He kisses me, slow and deep, tongue sliding against mine with deliberate intent until I'm breathless and squirming in his lap. Then he stands, lifting me with him like I weigh nothing, arms banded around my waist and under my thighs, and carries me to the bed.
This is different from the rough, claiming sex of before.
He undresses me slowly, reverently, fingers brushing against my skin as he peels away each layer.
My shirt comes off first, then my bra, his mouth following the path of his hands, kissing every inch of skin he reveals.
My jeans next, dragged down my legs with maddening slowness, followed by my panties.
When I'm finally bare beneath him, he just looks at me for a long moment, gray eyes dark and intense, like he's memorizing every detail.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, voice rough with want.
Then his mouth is on me again, kissing my throat, my collarbone, the swell of my breasts. He sucks one nipple into his mouth, tongue circling the hardened peak while his hand palms the other, thumb brushing across sensitive flesh until I'm arching into him, gasping his name.
He works his way down my body with the same deliberate attention, kissing my ribs, my stomach, the jut of my hipbone. By the time he settles between my thighs, I'm already wet and aching, pussy throbbing with need.
"Theo—"
"Let me taste you first."
His tongue drags through my folds, slow and thorough, licking up the wetness gathered there before circling my clit.
I cry out, hands fisting in his hair as he devours me, sucking and licking until I'm trembling, thighs shaking on either side of his head.
He slides two fingers inside me, curling them to hit that perfect spot while his mouth works my clit, and I come with a strangled moan, pussy clenching around his fingers.
He kisses his way back up my body, shedding his own clothes as he goes.
When he finally pushes inside me, it's gentle, careful, like I'm something precious he's afraid to break.
He fills me inch by inch, stretching me open on his thick cock, and I gasp at the feeling of fullness, the way my body yields to his.
"I love you," he whispers against my lips, moving in long, deep strokes that make my toes curl.
"Love you too," I gasp, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into solid muscle.
He makes love to me for what feels like hours, bringing me to orgasm twice more before finally finishing inside me with a groan, cock pulsing as he empties himself deep in my pussy.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, his hand stroking my hair while I trace the tattoos on his chest, following the intricate lines of ink with my fingertips.
"Tomorrow we start looking," he says, voice heavy with satisfaction and approaching sleep.
"Can't wait."
Over the next two days, we view six different apartments. Each one has potential, but something feels off—too small, wrong neighborhood, bad lighting, weird layout. By the third apartment, I'm getting frustrated.
"How are we supposed to know if it feels right?" I ask, standing in the middle of an empty living room while the realtor drones on about square footage.
Theo's eyes darken. "Good question. Maybe we need to test it properly."
"Test it?"
He backs me against the kitchen counter of the empty apartment, hands gripping my waist. The realtor is in another room, still talking.
"See if it feels like ours," he murmurs, kissing my neck.
"Theo, we can't?—"
"Why not?"
"The realtor?—"
"Won't come in here."
He lifts me onto the counter, pushes my skirt up, and slides my panties aside. I gasp as he enters me in one smooth thrust, swallowing my moan with a kiss.
"Quiet," he breathes against my lips, fucking me quick and dirty.
I bite his shoulder to muffle my cries, pussy clenching around his cock as he pounds into me. We finish just before the realtor's footsteps approach, both flushed and grinning.
We don't take that apartment. But the ritual is established.
On the third day, we view a luxury apartment building—a renovated historic structure with modern interiors that somehow preserve the old-world charm.
The unit is on the top floor: two bedrooms, two bathrooms, open concept with floor-to-ceiling windows that flood the space with light and exposed brick walls that feel both industrial and warm.
Hardwood floors gleam in the afternoon sunlight, reflecting gold onto the pristine white walls.
I walk through slowly, my fingers trailing along the cool brick, the smooth countertops, the windowsills still warm from the sun.
I'm imagining our life here with every step.
Cooking together in the sleek kitchen, his hands on my hips as I stir something on the stove.
Lazy Sundays on the couch we haven't bought yet, my feet in his lap while rain patters against those enormous windows.
Writing at the desk by the window, looking up to find him watching me with that possessive heat in his gray eyes.
The space smells new—fresh paint, clean floors, untouched potential. It makes my chest tight with hope.
"What do you think?" Theo asks, and when I turn, he's watching me instead of the apartment, reading my face the way he always does.
"It's beautiful. But it's so expensive?—"
"I don't care about the cost." His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. "Do you like it?"
My throat feels thick. "I love it."
"Then it's ours."
The certainty in his voice makes my eyes sting. He says it like it's already decided, like there's no other possible outcome. Like he'll move heaven and earth to give me this if it's what I want.
The realtor shows us the master bedroom—large and bright, with an ensuite bathroom that has both a soaking tub and a glass-enclosed shower, plus a walk-in closet that's bigger than my old dorm room. I turn to Theo, catching my bottom lip between my teeth.
"Should we... test it?"
His grin is wicked, eyes darkening instantly. "Absolutely."
The realtor clears her throat delicately and steps out to "make a call," having definitely figured out our ritual by now. I hear her heels clicking down the hallway, growing fainter, and then Theo locks the bedroom door with a decisive click that sends heat pooling low in my belly.
When he turns to me, his pupils are dilated, that hungry look on his face that makes my breath catch.
"Come here."
I go willingly, my heart racing as he reaches for me.
He undresses me slowly this time, fingers tracing every inch of skin he reveals.
My sweater comes off first, then my bra.
He cups my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples until they're hard and aching.
Then he kneels to remove my jeans and panties, his breath warm against my thighs.