Chapter 43: Playing the Game
Rose was caught off guard by his heated lips on hers, feeling as if she were under a spell—a spell that made her want more. Shock was evident in her eyes, but soon, it was replaced by something else, something she couldn’t quite place, as she kissed him back.
The kiss was slow yet punishing, mind-blowing yet scolding. His lips moved with a purpose, a force that seemed to command her attention. Rose felt her breath catch in her chest, the way his mouth worked magic with hers making her realize something she hadn’t considered before. For him to be this good, it could only mean one thing: he had undoubtedly kissed countless women before. That thought ignited a spark of anger in her.
Her chest tightened, a mixture of disbelief and something darker taking root. She pulled back sharply, the taste of him still lingering on her lips as she tried to collect herself. Her heart hammered in her chest, the anger she felt blending with confusion. Before she knew it, his hands had moved to her waist, and a chill ran through her, as if someone had poured ice water on her skin. His touch was different now, almost possessive, sending an unsettling feeling deep inside her. She recoiled, suddenly aware of the power he wielded with that touch, and it made her feel small.
"Stop," she whispered, her voice breaking as she took a step back, her pulse racing.
She pulled away quickly, almost like a child who had just touched a hot pot. Her eyes reflected the shock and heat she felt, as though her senses were overwhelmed by the burning sensation. Her thoughts were a jumble—too fast to keep up with. She refused to meet his gaze, her lips trembling with the words she wanted to say but couldn’t bring herself to utter. She was sure of one thing now: this man was a full-time player, and she had been nothing more than a passing game to him.
The air between them was thick with tension, heavy and suffocating. As if nothing had happened earlier, Rose gathered her things and walked toward the table, her movements stiff. She grabbed her bag and moved toward the door, her mind racing with thoughts of escape, of putting distance between herself and him. But just as her hand touched the door handle, she felt a sudden force yank her back.
Rylan’s grip was firm, but not rough, as he pulled her toward him, his movements controlled yet powerful. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat as he carefully but forcefully pressed her back against the wall. His hand raised to tilt her chin, making her look at him. His eyes were intense, dark, and unreadable. There was something in them that unsettled her, something she couldn’t quite grasp, but it made her feel exposed.
"Where are you going?" His voice was low and tight, strained, as if he were holding something back. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the vein in his neck visibly pulsing. She saw the confusion in his eyes, mixed with something else—something deeper, darker.
Rose was silent for a moment, her mind spinning with conflicting emotions. She locked eyes with him, refusing to back down this time. The anger inside her rose once more, stoking the fire of defiance that had been simmering under the surface. But her voice, when it came, was quieter than she had intended.