Questions like that never end well. Not when the marriage isn’t real. Not when we’ve both already agreed it’s temporary.
Langston closes his eyes for a moment, breathes in deeply like he’s trying to find the right words—or maybe the least painful ones. When he opens them again, he looks off into the distance, voice steady but heavy.
“Combining our families’ businesses made sense,” he starts, tone all business now. “With your family’s shipping and transport company, we’ll be able to move product more freely—discreetly—across more territories. And the Kensingtons will get the financial backing they’ve wanted for expansion, along with the reputation boost that comes from being tied to the Blackwell name.”
Every word slices deeper than the last.
Of course. It’s all business.
I swallow hard, trying to keep my face neutral, but I can feel it—the crack forming somewhere deep inside me.
I thought… maybe these last few days meant something. The tacos, the garden, the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention.
I thought maybe he saw me.
Not just a name on a deal.
Not just another transaction.
I stare at him, and for a second, I wish I could take the question back. Pretend I never asked. Pretend this ache in my chest doesn’t exist.
But then Langston turns to me.
His hand comes up—gentle, deliberate—as he takes my face between his palms. His thumbs trace just beneath my jaw, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“But,” he says, voice low now, raw. “That’s not why I chose you.”
My heart stutters.
“I chose you because I’ve wanted you since the first night I saw you at the Reserve,” he admits. “Before I even knew who you were. I kept telling myself it was bad timing. That I had obligations. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
He shakes his head, a hint of frustration there—at himself, not me.
“I even thought about walking away from everything—deals, plans, my father’s approval—just to know your name. Just to talk to you.”
His words steal the air from my lungs.
He leans closer, his forehead brushing mine. “I don’t know what this thing is between us, Sabrina. But I feel it. Like gravity. Like a pull I can’t fight. And I hope someday… you’ll feel it too.”
I close my eyes, because if I look at him any longer, I’ll break completely.
But I can’t lie to him either. Not now. Not when the truth is pressing so hard against my ribs it hurts.
“I already do,” I whisper.
Langston freezes.
And then his mouth is on mine.
The kiss starts slow—like he’s giving me a chance to pull away—but the second I don’t, everything shifts. His hands slide into my hair, his body pressing closer, the heat between us sparking to life. The world around us fades until there’s nothing left but him.
His mouth trails down my throat, tasting, claiming, worshipping. I can barely breathe, barely think. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, my fingers clutching his shoulders as he carries me backthrough the house—through the soft glow of lights, up the stairs, down the hall—until we reach the bedroom.
He still tastes just as sweet as whatever he had been drinking, and he moans into my mouth. I answer in whimper as I ground my pussy against his cock. It's throbbing, desperate to slide inside me.
His lips never leave my skin.
And when my back finally hits the bed, I realize the one thing that scares me most.
