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“Okay,” I echo, my heartbeat still thrumming loudly in my ears. The tension lingers, a palpable thing, and I’m left wondering what this conversation means for Levi and for me.
“Levi, why do you even care?” I ask, the hush in my voice a stark contrast to the loud snoring from the chair where Dad’s passed out. My eyes don’t leave his, searching for something, anything that might explain his sudden interest in my love life.
He doesn’t answer right away, just studies me with those intense gray eyes that seem to see too much. The air feels heavy, charged with something unspoken. I can feel the warmth of his body so close to mine, and it sends a shiver down my spine despite myself.
“Because,” he starts, then stops, as if he’s choosing his words carefully. “I just do.”
It’s not an answer, not really, but before I can press further, I feel his hand on my knee. It’s a simple touch, but it sparks a trail of heat that seems to leap straight to my core. I glance down, watching his fingers start a lazy, almost absent-minded journey up my leg, hidden beneath the safety of the blanket.
Anticipation curls low in my belly. I know I should stop him, push his hand away, but I’m frozen, caught between what I know is right and the dangerous allure of the forbidden. His touch is featherlight, yet every inch his fingers travel leaves a burning path in their wake.
“Levi…” The word is a breath, a plea, a warning. But his name on my lips only seems to encourage him further.
His hand reaches higher, a whisper against the thin fabric of my shorts. I jerk, my eyes snapping wide as a jolt of shock races through me. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not here, not now.
“Levi!” My voice is a hiss, a mix of disbelief and alarm.
“Shh.” His voice is low, a murmur meant to soothe, but it’s like oil on fire.
I glance sideways, ensuring Dad’s still asleep. My heart hammers against my ribs, fear tangling with an unwanted surge of excitement. Levi’s fingers brush more boldly now, pressing where they have no right. No matter how my body might betray me, my mind screams that this is wrong.
“Stop.” It’s firmer this time, a command laced with desperation.
He grins at me and it makes me shiver, his fingers still stroking me through my shorts. “Oh, I’m just getting started,” he says.
I stifle a moan. I’m afraid he can feel the wetness of my arousal even through the layers of fabric. How is he doing this to me, with only a touch?
“Come here,” he says, his voice husky. Strong arms slide beneath me, lifting me effortlessly from the couch. I gasp, glancing at Dad to make sure he’s still out, and then allow Levi to carry me without protest. I know I can’t stop this now.
“Bedroom?” he asks, his breath warm against my ear.
“Upstairs…last door on the left,” I manage to murmur, the words slurring together.
We move as one, Levi carrying me with steady steps. Each footfall is a thud that echoes in the quiet house, a counterpoint to the still-rapid beat of my heart. The world outside this cocoon he’s created seems distant, unreal.
But Levi, he’s here. He’s real. And right now, that’s all that matters.
Levi ascends the stairs with ease, the strength in his arms unwavering. I’m half-aware of the paintings on the walls blurring past, the soft carpet under his feet. We reach the landing, and he navigates through the dimly lit hallway with a certainty that suggests he’s noted every detail of this house in his previous visits.
“Here,” I whisper as we approach the last door on the left. He nudges it open with his foot, and a sliver of moonlight spills across the room, casting long shadows on the floor. The familiar scent of lavender and vanilla greets us, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace.
Levi lowers me onto the bed, and I sink into the cool sheets, my body still humming with arousal and unfulfilled desire. I watch him, his silhouette framed by the doorway, the moonlight painting him in shades of silver and shadow. There’s a question in his eyes, a silent inquiry that speaks louder than words.
“Stay,” I find myself saying before I can think better of it. It’s a simple word, but it hangs heavy between us, laden with implications and unspoken promises.
Levi doesn’t answer, but the corner of his lips tilts up in a knowing smile. He shuts the door behind him with a soft click, and the room is ours, sealed away from the rest of the world. As he joins me on the bed, pulling me into the shelter of his arms, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
The night wraps around us, a cocoon of whispers and warmth. And for now, everything else fades away—there’s just Levi and me, and the silent understanding that whatever this is, it’s just beginning.
Heat radiates off Levi’s body, enveloping me in a sudden and overwhelming warmth. My breath hitches when his fingers trail down my arm, gentle yet insistent. His touch sends shivers across my skin, despite the inner turmoil brewing within me.
“Levi, I…” My voice is a whisper, a shadow of hesitance in the dim glow of my bedroom. “I can’t do this. It’s not right. Grayson…Conrad…I’m with them.”
There’s a beat of silence, heavy and expectant. His face is inches from mine, eyes piercing through the darkness, reading my conflict as if it were an open book.
“Brielle,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, “I know them. Conrad and Grayson, they’re my best friends. I may not have known the details of the arrangement, but I know they expect me to be a part of it too—that’s how it works, with us. There’s no cheating here.”
My heart pounds, each beat a hammer against my ribs. The idea that this was all premeditated, that Grayson and Conrad would have given their silent nods to Levi’s hands, his mouth, his body joining ours, it both terrifies and thrills me.
