The Guest Room (Continued)
1026 Words
Lucas Bennett never expected to hear his Elena—his baby—coo at him like that, especially not in a situation like this.
Her soft, pleading eyes nearly melted him on the spot.
His throat bobbed. “Okay.”
Once Lucas slipped into the bathroom, Elena opened the door, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Grandma, sorry—I was blow-drying my hair and didn’t hear you. Come in.”
As she spoke, she stole a glance toward the bathroom, silently praying the man inside would stay quiet and not make a sound.
Old Mrs. Cole settled on the sofa, beaming at Elena’s fresh-faced, makeup-free look.
“No trouble at all.”
“It’s late, so I’ll be quick. When do you plan to marry Hengyue?”
The question blindsided Elena. She hadn’t thought about it once.
Marriage? She was plotting how to call off the engagement.
Old Mrs. Cole continued, “You know how much Hengyue adores you. The whole family loves you—we’re just waiting for the wedding!”
Elena forced a dry smile. Where exactly was this “adoration” from Ethan?
Seeing her hesitation, Old Mrs. Cole was about to ask if something worried her.
Then—a small clatter from the bathroom.
In the dead-quiet room, even the tiniest noise was deafening.
Old Mrs. Cole glanced toward the sound. Elena’s heart leaped into her throat.
“I must’ve left my toiletries out in a rush earlier.”
“Grandma… I’m not ready to get married so soon.”
She just wanted to fulfill the business bet with the Coles, clear her debts, and move on.
Old Mrs. Cole sighed. “I know Hengyue hasn’t always treated you right. We hope marriage will settle him. Honestly, the Cole influence would protect and elevate you.”
“Worst case—if you two ever part—any other Manhattan elite would think twice before crossing the Coles to pursue you.”
“I’ll leave it at that. Think it over.”
Elena nodded, escorting her out. The door clicked shut.
She exhaled hugely in relief.
Then fury surged—remembering the troublemaker in the bathroom.
She shoved the door open.
Under warm amber light, Lucas leaned casually against the vanity, hands braced on either side. The mirror reflected his black shirt stretched across broad shoulders, tapering down a perfect V to a narrow waist.
Classic inverted triangle. Shoulders built for… climbing.
Elena’s accusatory fire dimmed at the sight—magazine-cover perfection.
“Why did you make that noise on purpose?”
Lucas turned, holding her work badge.
“Dropped out of your clothes when you changed.”
Elena stepped closer, spotting her discarded outfit on the counter—pocket gaping.
She’d blamed him wrongly.
She reached for the badge. He lifted it higher, out of reach, while his other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her against him.
Tone full of mock grievance: “Baby, you wronged me. I’m heartbroken.”
Elena braced her hands on his waist, chin up defiantly. “If you hadn’t snuck into my room at night, I wouldn’t have accused you. Give it back.”
She tried again.
Twenty centimeters taller, toying with her was effortless.
He could keep it forever if he wanted.
Their bodies pressed closer without noticing.
One arm locked around her lower back, he spun her, pinning her against the vanity edge. Lips hovered inches away.
“Baby, one kiss and it’s yours.”
“You wronged me. Kiss me—make it better?”
Elena’s palms whitened against the marble, breath shallow.
Her lowered lashes fixed on his slowly rolling throat—raw want, pure s*x, unbearable.
She couldn’t resist.
On tiptoes, her full, flushed lips brushed his.
Two seconds in, she tried to pull away.
His large hand cupped the back of her neck, claiming deeper.
The badge forgotten on the counter.
One arm scooped her up, setting her on the dry vanity. Lips never parting.
The mirror reflected the heated scene.
She sat on the edge, legs around him. He stood between them—holding, dominating.
When they broke apart, both were on the edge of control.
Lucas buried his face in her neck, voice rough. “Elena… I like you so much.”
So much he’d fall for her anytime.
Elena struggled to breathe, pushes weak. “Kiss done. Go back to your room—I’m sleeping.”
Lucas released her reluctantly, dark eyes lingering on her swollen lips.
Elena turned away.
Her gaze landed on the counter beside the sink—her discarded lingerie, right within his reach.
Lucas followed her line of sight, noticing her flush. A wicked grin spread.
“My favorite—white lace.”
He knew she hadn’t forgotten his preference.
Elena shoved him. “I just wear what I like. Nothing to do with you!”
He didn’t argue. Lifted her down gently, voice serious.
“Whatever the Coles offer—don’t accept. If ending it is inconvenient for you, let me handle it.”
He’d make Ethan call off the wedding himself.
Elena knew his methods. “I can deal with it. Aren’t you worried the Coles will find out you’re undermining them?”
They were family, after all. Uncle and nephew fighting over her would be explosive news.
Lucas was calm. “You were mine first.”
Secret or not—they’d been together. Ethan was the interloper.
He cupped her face. “Elena Brooks, just figure out how you feel about me. I’ll take care of the rest.”
She didn’t answer. Pulled his hands down and stepped out of the bathroom.
“Your suit jacket’s still at the cleaners—I didn’t pick it up today. Here’s the money first.”
She pulled out Ethan’s check and handed it over.
Lucas stared at it, letting out a bitter laugh.
“Baby… paying me back with another man’s money?”
Elena tucked it into his shirt collar, smoothing it down with mock care, lips curving pink.
“Mind your own business.”
Next second, Lucas plucked the check out—and tore it in half.
- Writer
