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My chest rises and falls faster, adrenaline and desire colliding.

She stiffens, eyes widening, but there’s still defiance in them. The tension between us pulses, piercing and burning, every second stretching tight.

“You jealous, Ethan?” she asks, daring, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“Possessive,” I answer without hesitation.

It’s the truth. And I don’t feel the need to hide it.

“Shouldn’t you be possessive with your girlfriend?”

“Why did you come, Thalia?” I ask, refusing to play her game.

“Are you in a relationship, Ethan?” she presses.

Her hands remain on my chest, lighter now, almost caressing, but her gaze stays locked onto mine, unyielding.

“Earlier, you were completely sure I was, and that I was cheating…” I reply, tightening my grip gently around her neck. “What made you doubt it now?”

She doesn’t answer. Just keeps looking at me, something flickering behind her eyes that I can’t quite read.

“Do you have a girlfriend or not, Ethan?” she asks again, firmer this time.

“No.”

And apparently, that’s all it takes.

The instant the word leaves my mouth, she leans fully over me and kisses me—hungry, desperate, her body pressing flush against mine.

Smiling, I keep my hand at her neck and return the kiss with equal intensity, heat igniting between us instantly.

“What would you have done if I told you I had a girlfriend, hmm?” I tease, amused by her reaction.

I enjoy this—seeing her unravel, watching everything raw and unfiltered surface.

“Jesus… don’t ever say that word again,” she murmurs, biting my lower lip. “I hate hearing it in connection with you.”

That only makes me laugh out loud.

I realize I laugh more freely, more often, when she’s around. This simple awareness unsettles me, stirring a silent imbalance I choose to ignore for now.

In one swift motion, I flip our positions, rolling her onto her back, and settling between her legs.

“Oh, yeah?” I ask, sliding my hand from her neck to cup her breasts, squeezing firmly. “Why can’t you stand to hear me say that?”

She responds by wrapping her legs around my waist, pulling me closer, her hands gripping my neck, fingers pressing into my skin.

“I don’t know, Ethan,” she whispers, voice thick with heat. “You make me lose my damn mind… and I can’t stop wanting you.”

Fuck.

There’s no denying it—this woman is dangerous. And I can already feel she’s going to make me lose my damn mind.

“It’s a contract, Thalia,” I confess, my voice low and steady, even if everything inside me has already crossed the point of no return, because there’s no version of this night where she walks out of my room, out of my bed, not after the way she’s moving against me.

“I’m helping her with her image for two months, and in return, I’ve received some shares in her family’s company,” I continue, explaining while my hands roam over her body without pause—one sliding over the soft, full curve of her breasts, kneading slowly, while the other drifts down, slipping between her parted thighs, brushing over the thin fabric of her shorts, feeling the immediate shiver that runs through her.

“In two months the contract ends, and we’ll announce a mutual breakup.”