In revenge, I became his brother's secret lover. Until his out-of-control kiss...-9
His Eyes Held Something
Jason's gaze transformed. Gone was "brother's wife," replaced by something raw. He looked longer, deeper—studying fragile porcelain. Recognition mixed with sympathy, but underneath... something I craved and feared. Stark concern. Male appreciation. Each glance made my heart lurch.
In a dim stairwell, planning our next move, a draft stirred loose hair against my cheek. Before finishing, his hand rose—gentle, brushing my hair aside. His fingers grazed my ear. Electricity shot down my spine. I froze, breathless. He recoiled instantly, knuckles pressed to his lips, eyes darting to dusty steps. Air thickened like honey, trapping us. This scene wasn't planned; the play was spiraling out of control.
Unplanned Dinner
We aimed for David’s bar, seeking more evidence. Angry clouds gathered overhead. Halfway there, the skies unleashed. Soaked, stranded, we scrambled into a tiny noodle shop. Door closed, shutting out the storm and the plan. Wet clothes clung, chilling us. Warm yellow light.
Two steaming bowls arrived, mist fogging the space between us, blurring talk of betrayal. That night, David, the other woman—none were mentioned. We spoke like old friends: his college band days, my stubbornly dying plant. Rain lashed outside; inside, clinking dishes, fragrant steam. Sipping broth, warmth spread—thawing something frozen inside. David's shadow seemed to shrink in this cozy space. It felt alien, peaceful... and utterly wrong. Like finding soft grass amid thorns—tempting, terrifying.
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Jason's gaze transformed. Gone was "brother's wife," replaced by something raw. He looked longer, deeper—studying fragile porcelain. Recognition mixed with sympathy, but underneath... something I craved and feared. Stark concern. Male appreciation. Each glance made my heart lurch.
In a dim stairwell, planning our next move, a draft stirred loose hair against my cheek. Before finishing, his hand rose—gentle, brushing my hair aside. His fingers grazed my ear. Electricity shot down my spine. I froze, breathless. He recoiled instantly, knuckles pressed to his lips, eyes darting to dusty steps. Air thickened like honey, trapping us. This scene wasn't planned; the play was spiraling out of control.
Unplanned Dinner
We aimed for David’s bar, seeking more evidence. Angry clouds gathered overhead. Halfway there, the skies unleashed. Soaked, stranded, we scrambled into a tiny noodle shop. Door closed, shutting out the storm and the plan. Wet clothes clung, chilling us. Warm yellow light.
Two steaming bowls arrived, mist fogging the space between us, blurring talk of betrayal. That night, David, the other woman—none were mentioned. We spoke like old friends: his college band days, my stubbornly dying plant. Rain lashed outside; inside, clinking dishes, fragrant steam. Sipping broth, warmth spread—thawing something frozen inside. David's shadow seemed to shrink in this cozy space. It felt alien, peaceful... and utterly wrong. Like finding soft grass amid thorns—tempting, terrifying.
NEXT >>
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