Chapter 169
It was not a gentle kiss. It was not romantic. It was punishment. It was possession. His lips were cold from the rain, but his mouth was burning hot. His tongue swept past hers, demanding and relentless. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the angle.
Jocelyn froze. Her brain screamed in protest.
This was not the kiss of a man who liked men. This was raw, hungry, unmistakable.
For one terrifying, electric second, she stopped fighting it. Her hands curled into his wet lapels. Her body arched against him on pure instinct, and every week of carefully banked tension between them detonated at once.
Then logic came flooding back.
𝗥eа𝘥 𝗐i𝘁ho𝘂𝗍 𝘪𝗇𝗍еrr𝘂𝘱𝘁𝘪оոѕ o𝘯 g𝗮𝘭ոо𝘷𝗲𝘭𝗌.co𝘮
He’s angry. He’s humiliated. He’s trying to prove a point.
She pushed against his chest. He didn’t move.
She gathered every ounce of strength she had.
Smack.
She slapped him.
The sound cracked through the high-ceilinged room.
Gaston broke the kiss and stepped back, chest still heaving. He raised one hand to his cheek, where a red mark was already rising beneath his palm.
Silence stretched between them — heavy, suffocating.
Jocelyn stood trembling. Her lips were swollen. Her heart hammered against her ribs like something caged and desperate.
Gaston looked at her. The anger in his eyes had shifted into something else. Something darker. Regret. Desire. She could not tell where one ended and the other began.
“Don’t you ever,” he whispered, his voice rough, “try to set me up with a man again.”
He turned on his heel and walked to his bedroom. The door slammed shut.
Jocelyn sank back onto the sofa. She touched her mouth. Her fingers came away cold and wet.
That didn’t feel like a lie.
But she shook her head. Men like Gaston didn’t change. He was humiliated. He was acting out. That was all.
She pulled her knees to her chest, feeling colder than she ever had in her life.
No.
Monday morning arrived with a hangover of tension that blanketed the city like fog.
In his corner office at Douglas Corp, Kieran Douglas stared at his laptop screen. The stock ticker for Douglas Tech was red. Down two percent. Again.
The door opened. Aspen walked in — hair blown out, makeup flawless — but her eyes moved around the room with a nervous, darting energy.
“Kieran, darling,” she said, her voice high and brittle. “Are we still going to the Met Gala on Saturday? I have my dress fitting today.”
Kieran didn’t look up. “I’m busy, Aspen. The stock is a mess. The investors are spooked after the hotel stunt.”
“You’re blaming me,” she pouted, crossing behind his desk to perch on the arm of his chair.
“You lied about knowing Zack. The police report is clear,” he said, his voice flat. He looked at her at last. “You jeopardized my reputation.”
“I was scared!” Aspen cried, tears appearing instantly. “Jocelyn was attacking me! She’s obsessed with ruining us!”
Kieran sighed and pressed his fingers to his temples. “I need space. I’m going to the Hamptons house for a few days. Alone.”
Aspen went still. Her fingers tightened on the leather of his chair.
Alone means he’s thinking. Thinking leads to breakups.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I understand.”
.