Paul eased his foot off the gas, letting the car slow down slightly. The ride became smoother, more comfortable.
He sneaked a glance in the rearview mirror and thought with a huff, “If Mr. Martin still insists he hasn’t fallen for Skylar, I’ll offer my head on a silver platter!”
How could Joe not like her? The way he paid attention to her every need said it all.
Once they arrived back at Galaxy Villa, Joe and Skylar went to their respective rooms to freshen up.
After his shower, Joe collapsed onto his bed with a towel slung over his shoulders. He picked up a book to pass the time, quietly waiting for Skylar to come give him the massage she had promised earlier.
The room was quiet and calm, the atmosphere soothing. Joe flipped through a few pages, not really absorbing the words.
Then came the soft creak of the door.
Joe raised a brow, slightly surprised. Skylar always knocked before coming in. She had never just walked in like this.
He set the book aside and looked up, but before he could speak, Skylar—her damp hair clinging to her cheeks—suddenly threw herself at him.
The full weight of her body landed squarely on his.
She gently cupped his face in her hands, her eyes fixed on his, and kissed him—without hesitation, without restraint.
Joe froze for a moment, startled. Her boldness threw him off.
When he regained his senses, a flicker of intensity lit up his eyes. “Skylar, do you know what you’re doing?”
He was a man, after all—not a statue. Her actions were pushing his boundaries, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself back.
Still, Skylar didn’t say a word. Her hands slowly slipped beneath his shirt, her touch deliberate, searching—as though trying to uncover a part of him no one else had ever seen.
Joe’s expression shifted. He understood what she was saying without words. This was her way of opening up to him, of choosing to trust him more deeply.
He gently reversed their positions, guiding her down onto the bed. She was wearing only a soft, loosely-tied bathrobe. Joe’s fingers lightly touched the fabric, lingering at the edges.
But just as he moved to untie it, he paused.
Something was off.
Skylar’s face was flushed, but her brows were slightly furrowed. She looked like she was enduring something—fighting herself, maybe.
Joe froze, his breath slowing. He leaned in closer, trying to read her expression.
“Skylar?” he called gently. “Talk to me.”
Skylar looked up at him but didn’t speak. Instead, she pressed her lips to his neck. The kiss was clumsy, her teeth grazing his skin more than intended.
It wasn’t her usual self.
Joe’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on with you?”
He mentally traced back the day’s events. After visiting Pearlhall Residence and the Doherty residence, they had come straight home. There was no chance she’d been drugged—he was sure of it.
So why was she acting like this now?
Despite his concern, Skylar remained quiet, her gaze unfocused.
“I’m serious,” Joe said, his voice lower now. “If you don’t come back to your senses, I won’t be able to hold back much longer.”
Skylar was tempting his self-control to its limit.
Then, finally, she spoke. Her eyes locked with his, and she asked provocatively, “Joe, are you scared?”
Skip to content