Their arrangement had been clean. Professional. Mutually beneficial. Fake touches for the cameras, no strings, no complications. Now she’d crossed every line. Turned him into a tool to soothe her bruised ego. Used his body to make herself feel powerful for five minutes.
And god help her—she’d loved every second of it.
The memories kept coming, uninvited and vivid: the low growl in his throat when she rocked against him. The way his tongue had worked her so patiently, so thoroughly, never rushing, never letting her come down until she was shaking and pleading. The slow, deliberate thrust of him inside her, the way he’d watchedher face the whole time. The second orgasm that had torn through her like lightning—harder, deeper, leaving her boneless and stunned.
Heat bloomed low in her belly again. Her thighs clenched.
She pressed her forehead to the tile. No. Stop.
The shame surged back twice as strong.
She thought of Mia and Dana—the way they’d welcomed her into their circle without question. The way they’d included her in drinks and laughter like she belonged. They’d trusted her with Jax. Trusted her to be good for him. Trusted her to be real.
And she’d lied to them. Used their friend. Turned their genuine friendship into collateral damage in her private war with Min-Jae.
How was she supposed to face them now?
She didn’t know what to do.
She only knew she couldn’t stay under this shower forever pretending the water could wash any of it away.
???
Jax
Jax stayed on his back after the door closed, one arm flung over his eyes, the other resting low on his stomach.
The room still smelled like her.
Sweet perfume, sex, the faint salt of sweat on skin. The sheets were wrecked—twisted, carrying every evidence of what they’d done.
He was hard again just thinking about it.
Her small, tight body when the robe hit the floor—curves glowing in the low lamplight, nipples already peaked, thighs pressed together like she was trying to hide how wet she was. The frantic way she’d rocked against him, legs locked around his waist, chasing friction with desperate little rolls of her hips. The sounds she’d made when his tongue finally pushed her over—sharp, surprised, almost disbelieving. The way she’d clenched around him the second time, walls fluttering, nails raking down his back hard enough to leave marks he could still feel stinging faintly now.
He smiled to himself—slow, satisfied, a little smug.
His hand drifted lower. Wrapped around his cock. Lazy, unhurried strokes. Not trying to finish. Just savouring.
Maybe she’d come back. Maybe she’d knock again in an hour, robe half-open, eyes dark with the same reckless hunger. He didn’t want to be spent if she did.
He reached for his phone instead. Unlocked it. Scrolled Instagram on autopilot.
Her stories—still nothing new.
Then the algorithm served him Min-Jae’s latest post.
The photo loaded in full colour.
Min-Jae and Ji-Yeon Park—tall, elegant, both smiling at some rooftop bar with Seoul glittering behind them. His arm snug around her waist. Her head tilted toward his shoulder like it belonged there.
Caption:New chapter. Grateful for new beginnings.
Posted yesterday, 16:47 Qatar time.
Jax’s thumb froze mid-scroll.
The race had finished at 17:22.
