CHAPTER 4 PAST TENSE, PRESENT DANGER
900 Words
Ariana woke up the next morning with her lips still tingling and her body craving for more. Jason Ashton's deep, low voice, full of seductive promises, had plagued her nightmares, which had been a sequence of twisted limbs and feverish murmurs.
The wine was at fault.
The kiss.
The man.
The man was undoubtedly to blame.
But as soon as she entered her university office, she made an effort to hide everything behind her polished exterior. grading papers, finishing proposals, and getting ready for a talk. Nothing could make her forget about Jason, but she would be damned if she allowed it to show.
Right up until she discovered the envelope on her desk.
Black and heavy.
Silver ink was used to write her name. Ariana felt her heart skip a beat.
A single piece of thick parchment with a message written in Jason's exquisite, incredibly precise handwriting was found within.
This evening. 8 p.m. Put on something that gives you a sense of control over the world. —J
Her heartbeat quickened. She wanted to obey it so much, not because of the message but also the aura it came with.
Celia said, "Girl, that man is trying to sweep you off your feet," as she spun around in Ariana's office chair like an inquisitive teenager that afternoon.
"You know what happens when billionaires fall in love? You end up on a yacht with no job and six engagement rings."
"He's not in love," Ariana said, slipping the note into her drawer. "He's bored. Or curious."
Celia smiled. "And what are you?" "You are stupid, probably."
Nevertheless, when the clock struck six o'clock, Ariana was already looking at her closet as if it contained the solution to every poor choice she had ever made.
Eventually, she wore a deep emerald dress that accentuated her curves and exposed her back.
She had arrived at Jason's apartment-Ashton Estate at eight o'clock.
Abruptly, the world changed once more.
The entire city sparkled under them, visible through floor-to-ceiling glass. Despite its simplicity—black, chrome, and plush leather—the room exuded luxury. alongside him.
Jason poured two glasses of dark amber bourbon while he stood at the bar. He had a watch that most likely cost more than her college debts, his black shirt undone at the collar, and his sleeves rolled just enough to reveal powerful forearms.
He handed her a drink and remarked, "You came." "You inquired."
He arched an eyebrow. "I don't inquire. I invite.”
Ariana sipped the drink, letting it burn her throat. “Same thing.”
“Not in my world.” Their eyes locked. The air tightened.
With his fingertips brushing a flyaway hair off her shoulder, Jason took a step closer.
"You look like silk-wrapped power."
"You sound like charm disguised as trouble."
He grinned. "You don't know."
She turned aside, strolling slowly to the windows. "So, what's going on tonight? Supper? Dancing? More candid admissions of the heart?
“No.” He spoke in a quiet but tense tone. "I have to show you something tonight."
He had a picture in his hand as she turned around. The edges are crumpled and the item is old and worn. Without saying a word, he gave it to her.
The image showed a young lad, about 10 years old, standing in front of a guarded home. His grin was damaged, but his eyes were Jason's.
"That's me," he remarked. "A long time ago. Prior to the name having any significance”
"What took place?" Jason took a long sip of bourbon before answering. “My father built an empire. My mother pretended it was a marriage. I learned to lie before I learned to ride a bike.”
Ariana sat on the edge of the leather sofa, photo in hand. “You’ve never told anyone this, have you?”
“Not like this.”
“Why me?”
He moved to stand in front of her, his face vulnerable yet dark. "Because I believe that you are the one who will destroy me."
Her breath caught.
“Destroy you?" she said again.
"Not maliciously," he whispered. "Out of truth. You evoke emotions in me that I haven't experienced since I was that boy in the picture. And I'm terrified of it.”
Ariana couldn't think of anything to say. Rather, she stood up—and kissed him.
It wasn't the yacht's hurried, ravenous kiss.This took longer. more intense. It tasted of vulnerability, confessions, and the need for something genuine.
Backing her against the wall, Jason murmured into her mouth. She blushed against him as his hands travelled down her back and grasped her hips. Their passion was now a fire that was raging over hesitation and pure reason.
At her throat, he growled, "Tell me to stop."
She didn't.
His lips brushed fire into her skin as they discovered the crook of her neck. Her hands were under his shirt, exposing the thin muscle below when the buttons popped.
“I can’t. Not yet.”
She nodded. Her defenses slid back into place.
“I should go.” He reached for her, but she was already at the door.
“Ariana—”
“Next time,” she said, turning halfway.
“Don’t invite me unless you’re ready to let me stay.”
And then she was gone, heels clicking like thunder down the hallway.
- Writer
