Chapter 2
Zoe's POV
The room fell silent for a few seconds, broken only by the sound of waves crashing against the shore.
Kyle slowly lifted his head, his amber eyes flickering with a mix of emotions. "What about YOU? Aren't you married?"
My heart skipped a beat.
Damn, I almost forgot what I told him yesterday.
"I am married," I said, keeping my voice steady, "but my husband's always off in Europe for work. We're basically separated."
Kyle frowned. "Separated?"
"Yeah." I spun the lie further. "He's got his life, I've got mine. As for my... needs..." I paused, watching Kyle's face flush red, "I need YOU to take care of those."
Kyle's breathing quickened, his gaze a wild mix of shock, excitement, and something hungry I couldn't quite name.
"Sounds like your marriage... ain't exactly solid," he muttered.
I stayed silent.
Because he was right.
Late that night, Kyle said he was hitting the shower. I was in the master bedroom, sorting through today's files, when I heard the water running in the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, the water stopped.
I realized the bathroom was out of towels—new ones were still in the closet. As a "good sugar mama," I figured I should look after my "toy boy."
Grabbing a fresh towel, I headed to the bathroom door.
"Kyle, I got you a towel," I called, knocking lightly. No response.
Maybe he didn't hear me.
I pushed the door open and froze.
Kyle stood with his back to me, facing the mirror, water droplets clinging to his chiseled back, muscles gleaming under the warm bathroom light. He clearly hadn't expected me, spinning around with a look of pure shock.
"Zoe! What the—"
My eyes instinctively dropped, then snapped back up, my cheeks burning.
"Uh... towel." I held it up, forcing my gaze to his face. "Thought you might need it."
Kyle scrambled to cover himself, his face tomato-red. "You can't just BARGE IN! Knock or something!"
"I knocked," I said, suppressing the flutter in my chest and keeping my tone light. "Besides, you're MY investment now. I've got every right to check on my... assets."
Kyle's face got even redder, his eyes flashing with irritation. "You... that's TOO MUCH!"
"Too much?" I raised an eyebrow. "Kyle, let's get one thing straight. You're living in MY house, spending MY money. I'm just making sure I'm getting my money's worth."
"I'm not some PRODUCT!" His voice shook with anger.
"Aren't you?" I stepped closer, relishing his flustered state. "So tell me, what ARE we right now?"
Kyle opened his mouth but couldn't find words.
I turned to leave. "If you're uncomfortable, you're free to go. Plenty of others would jump at this deal."
Just as I reached the door, a wet hand grabbed my wrist.
I turned back to see Kyle's eyes blazing with a fire I'd never seen before.
"Fine," he growled through gritted teeth. "Guess I'd better start EARNING my keep."
Before I could react, he pulled me into his arms.
Warm water from his body soaked into my clothes, the steamy bathroom air wrapping us in a hazy, charged tension.
"Kyle..." My voice wavered.
He kissed me hard, his lips crushing mine, tongue invading with fierce intent, curling around mine, claiming everything.
"Kyle..." I gasped, pushing him back slightly. "You sure about this?"
The fire in his eyes burned hotter. He ripped my shirt open, buttons flying, exposing my pale breasts. He leaned down, taking one nipple in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth, tongue swirling. "You called me your investment, Zoe. Let me PROVE it."
"Oh—" I moaned, my body arching instinctively. His hands slid to my waist, yanking down my pants. His fingers found my core, already slick with need.
"Damn, you're SO wet," he growled, fingertips circling my entrance before one slid inside, moving, drawing out more.
I gripped his shoulders, nails digging in. "Kyle, you bastard... hurry up." My breathless demand betrayed my raw desire.
His erection pressed against my stomach, hot and thick. I wrapped my hand around it, stroking, feeling it pulse. "So big... how you gonna prove yourself?"
Breathing heavily, he shoved me against the bathroom wall, lifting one of my legs. His tip nudged my entrance, then pushed in slowly. "God, Zoe... you're so TIGHT, like you're pulling me in," he gritted out, inching deeper, filling me completely.
"Kyle... too deep..." I cried out, arms wrapping around his neck, legs hooking his waist. He started thrusting—slow at first, testing, then harder, each stroke hitting my core.
"Say my name, Zoe," he demanded, one hand kneading my breast, the other gripping my hip, thrusting faster. "Tell me you NEED me."
"Kyle... I need you... HARDER!" I gasped, lost in the waves of pleasure crashing through me.
He growled, picking up speed. "You're too DAMN tempting." With a final, shuddering thrust, he spilled inside me, hot and overwhelming.
My climax hit, my walls clenching around him, a scream echoing through the bathroom.
Damn you, Kyle Harrison. Even with no memory, you still know how to wreck my heart.
Later, we collapsed onto the bed, still tangled in each other, Kyle's breathing uneven.
My mind drifted back to that rainy night three years ago.
That night, I'd just broken up with my ex-boyfriend.
At the bar, I downed tequila shots one after another, tears and alcohol mixing on my cheeks.
"Zoe? What are you doing here?"
Kyle appeared, looking worried. Back then he was still my competitor—we'd battled on the track for four years but rarely spent time alone.
"Get lost, Kyle." I waved drunkenly. "Tonight I don't want to see anyone I know."
"You've had too much." He frowned. "I'll take you home."
"Home?" I laughed bitterly. "Which home? My first love just dumped me, said he's moving to Europe for his career, said long-distance doesn't work. Which fucking home?"
Kyle fell silent, then sat beside me, ordering two whiskeys from the bartender.
That night... we both got drunk.
In a haze, we ended up at his apartment. Alcohol made everything blurry, but I remembered his gentleness, remembered him softly kissing away my tears, remembered him whispering my name over and over.
Two months later, the pregnancy test showed two red lines.
My hands shook as I dialed Kyle's number.
"Zoe? What's wrong?" His voice carried tension.
"I'm pregnant."
Silence stretched so long I thought the line had died.
"Kyle?"
"Marry me." His voice was quiet but firm. "The baby needs a complete family."
"Kyle, you don't have to out of obligation..."
"This isn't just obligation, Zoe." He interrupted. "Maybe this is fate giving us a chance."
The wedding was simple, only both sets of parents present. I wore a simple white dress, my belly not yet showing.
Kyle was nervous throughout, nearly dropping the ring.
"I'll take care of you and the baby," he whispered in my ear. "I promise."
Three months later, I started bleeding suddenly while filming a team promotional video.
By the time I reached the hospital, it was too late.
I lay in the hospital bed, Kyle holding my hand, pain I'd never seen before in his eyes.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I cried apologetically over and over.
"It's not your fault." Kyle's voice was hoarse. "We lost the baby, but I don't regret marrying you, Zoe. Give me time to prove our marriage isn't just because of an accident."
From then on, Kyle became extraordinarily attentive. He learned to make my favorite breakfast, remembered my cycle, silently prepared midnight snacks when I worked late.
Gradually, I found myself truly falling for this man.
Not from obligation, not from guilt, but because of his tenderness, his persistence, his uncomplaining devotion.