Chapter 284
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Chapter 284:
It was not a gentle morning kiss. It was deep and consuming — his large hand sliding to the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair, holding her in place with quiet authority. Jocelyn let out a soft, startled sound. Her knees turned to water. She gripped the lapels of his suit jacket just to stay upright, and he stole every particle of air from her lungs.
Inside the rental car, Kieran let out a raw, agonized sound. He drove his fist into the center console. The plastic cracked. His knuckles split, smearing blood across the dashboard.
Gaston broke the kiss slowly.
Jocelyn was breathless, her eyes wide, her expression caught somewhere between confusion and heat.
Gaston looked down at her with quiet, dark amusement. He stepped back and pulled the car door open smoothly, placing his hand over the roof frame to shield her head as she sank into the passenger seat.
He walked around the front of the car and slid behind the wheel. He pressed the ignition. The Aston Martin’s engine turned over with a deep, guttural growl that resonated through the concrete floor.
He reversed out of the spot. As he shifted into drive, Gaston deliberately rolled down his window and turned his head, staring directly into the shadowed corner where the rental car sat. His eyes were flat and cold.
He reached for the audio console and turned the volume to maximum. A ridiculously upbeat, cheerful pop song erupted from the premium speakers, its heavy bass and bright lyrics bouncing off the concrete walls like a series of physical blows.
Gaston pressed the accelerator. The Aston Martin shot forward, leaving a thin drift of exhaust curling toward the shadows.
Kieran slumped back against his seat. Tears leaked from his bloodshot eyes, mixing with the sweat on his face. The cheerful music faded into the distance, leaving him in total, suffocating silence. He was completely broken.
а𝘤𝗍іv𝗲 с𝗈𝗆𝗆𝘂𝗇𝘪𝘁𝘺 оn
Inside the Aston Martin, Jocelyn smoothed her skirt with trembling hands, still working to steady her breathing.
“That was completely unnecessary,” she said, her voice slightly unsteady. “You crossed the line of our agreement p>
Gaston kept one hand resting casually on the steering wheel. He glanced at her, his eyes dark and unhurried.
“If you feel you were taken advantage of,” he said smoothly, “you are more than welcome to kiss me back tonight to settle the score p>
Jocelyn opened her mouth to argue. The words died in her throat. She turned sharply toward the passenger window, fixing her gaze on the passing traffic, and bit the inside of her cheek — fighting hard to hide the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
At ten o’clock in the morning, the wind whipping down the Manhattan avenue was brutal.
Kieran stood on the sidewalk outside the Wolfe Hotel in a thin dress shirt, having left his jacket in the rental car. He had been standing in the freezing cold for two straight hours, his eyes fixed on the revolving glass doors of the lobby, watching every person who passed through them.
Inside, the head manager stood behind the polished marble desk. He observed the disheveled man outside for five minutes, then picked up his radio and spoke quietly into the microphone.