"You can hate me all you want, Cameron," Brandon murmured, lips brushing his ear. "But by the end of this marriage, you'll crave me." Cameron Aston is straight. Or so he thought—until his father forces him into an engagement with Brandon Deville, the arrogant, maddeningly attractive heir to a rival empire. What should have been a cold business deal turns into a dangerous game of tension, temptation, and blurred lines. Because the more Cameron fights Brandon, the harder he falls. And in this marriage, losing might mean wanting something he swore he never would.
Lihat lebih banyakPOV: CameronI should’ve left.My fingers curled around the door handle, my heart thudding so loud I thought it might burst out of my chest. I needed to get out of there, away from the tension choking the air — away from him.But then Brandon grabbed my wrist, spun me around, and before I could even breathe, his lips were on mine.It wasn’t like the accidental kiss from earlier. This one was different. Deliberate. Desperate.I froze. My brain short-circuited. Every warning signal screamed at me to stop this before we ruined everything. But my body didn’t listen.I kissed him back.Hard.Brandon turned away me, and I raised a brow. “What? Is there something on my f—”His hand crashed against my mouth, covering it while the other shoved into my pants. My eyes widened as he stroked my hard, aching cock through my boxers. The soft fabric rubbing against my erection was almost too much to take. My body responded instantly, my hips jutting forward as he stroked me while gazing into my eyes.
POV: BrandonThe cab rattled over a pothole, and Cameron groaned, slumping further into the seat like he was trying to melt into the leather. His forehead pressed against the window, eyes shut tight, and his fingers curled in his lap like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will.I winced, glancing at the driver. “Hey, could you maybe drive a little more carefully?” I asked, trying to keep my voice polite. “He’s not feeling great.”The driver snorted, eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror. “Maybe your drunk boyfriend shouldn’t have partied so hard,” he muttered, tapping the steering wheel impatiently as he sped up to beat a yellow light.My jaw clenched. I sat up straighter, leaning forward so he could see me better in the mirror. “First of all, he’s not my boyfriend — he’s my fiancé, so use the right term,” I snapped, heat prickling up my neck. “And second, you’re getting paid to drive, not to run your mouth. So how about you do your job without the commentary?”Th
POV: CameronThe street spun under my feet and the pavement tilted like a broken carnival ride. My head throbbed, and my pulse hammered so loudly I swore people could hear it. The muffled beat of music from the bar echoed behind me, but all I could focus on was the weight in my chest. It was heavy, ugly, suffocating. Everything reeked of stale beer, cigarette smoke, and my own pathetic jealousy.I could still see them, Brandon and Hilda were standing and their bodies were too close to each other, their heads tilted together, talking like the rest of the world didn’t exist. The way he stared at her intensely and the way she stared back at him made my heart race, It burned. It burned so badly I felt sick.“Cameron,” Brandon’s voice cut through the haze, low and careful, like he was talking to a wounded animal. “Oh fuck, what have you done to yourself? Come on, you’re wasted. Let’s get you home.”His hand on my arm was steady, warm, and I hated it. I hated how good it felt.I yanked m
POV: BrandonI shoved the bar door open, my heart hammering against my chest like it was trying to break free. The music thudded loudly behind me, but the cold air outside smacked me harder than any bass drop could. My hands were shaking, some was part from anger, part from the mess I’d just left behind.And there was Hilda, stomping down the sidewalk like she hadn’t just wrecked my entire life in one night.Seriously, she looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum.“Hilda, get your stupid ass here!” I yelled, my voice scraping my throat.She didn’t even flinch and I felt my face twitch in annoyance.I jogged to catch up, grabbing her arm and spinning her around so fast her hair whipped across her face. “What the fucking hell was that?” I hissed, my chest rising and falling like I’d just run a marathon.She yanked her arm back like I’d burned her. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she snapped, eyes blazing.“I wouldn’t have to if you stopped acting like a maniac,” I shot back. “Why were you a
POV: CameronThe moment the kiss ended, I panicked.My heart pounded like a freaking war drum, so loud it drowned out everything else. My lips still tingled, swollen from the kiss — from his kiss — and my skin buzzed like I’d been electrocuted.I couldn’t breathe.I ripped myself away from Brandon like he was on fire, chest heaving. His eyes were wide, like he wanted to say something, but I didn’t give him the chance.I shoved past people, ignoring the voices calling my name. The hallway blurred, the music thumped like it was inside my skull, and my hands shook so bad I could barely twist the bathroom doorknob. But I finally managed to push it open and slam it shut behind me.The lock clicked closed except I didn’t feel safe at all.I stumbled to the sink, cranking the faucet up as high as it would go. Ice-cold water splashed out, and I threw handfuls of it onto my face, gasping at the shock. My fingers trembled as I pressed them against my burning cheeks, but no matter how much I tri
POV: BrandonThe game was stupid.Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself as I watched Cameron and Hilda go back and forth like they didn’t even know I existed. I leaned against the wall, gripping my drink so tightly the condensation made my fingers slip.It shouldn’t bother me.I shouldn’t care.But every time Cameron laughed — every time Hilda leaned closer, flipping her hair and flashing her perfect smile — something in my chest burned.I took another sip, pretending to listen to whatever Matt was saying next to me, but the words blurred together.All I could focus on was them.Cameron biting his lip.The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.How he kept fidgeting, rubbing his palms on his jeans like he wanted to disappear.I hated that I noticed all of it.Hated even more that I cared.“You’re fucking staring dude,” Matt said, elbowing me.I flinched, almost spilling my drink. “I’m not dipshit.”Matt snorted. “Dude, you’ve been watching him all night.”“No, I haven’t.”“You
POV: CameronAfter Brandon walked in, Hilda’s smile didn’t reach her eyes anymore.It was still there, stretched across her face like a mask, but something about it had sharpened — like a blade. She twirled her drink in her hand, the ice clinking against the glass, her gaze cutting through me like she could see all my messy, tangled thoughts.And I hated it.I hated how the energy between us had flipped, how the easy flow of conversation had shattered the second she brought up Brandon. I hated how I could feel the wall she’d put up, cold and impenetrable, like I was suddenly a stranger instead of the guy she’d been laughing with five minutes ago.I cleared my throat, rubbing my palms against my jeans.“So, uh... how’s your sister?” I asked, desperate to claw my way back to neutral ground.Hilda arched a brow, sipping her drink slowly before answering.“She’s fine and well.”Just that.Nothing else.Not even a crumb of extra information to keep the conversation alive.I forced a chuckl
POV: CameronThe bar was louder than I expected.The bass from the speakers thrummed through the floor, vibrating up my legs and rattling my chest like a second heartbeat. People packed into the space like sardines, shouting to be heard over the music, their voices a chaotic blur of laughter and conversation. The air smelled like spilled liquor and cheap cologne, the sticky-sweet combination almost enough to make me turn around and walk right back out the door.But I didn’t.Because I was already here.And because Hilda was here.I shoved my hands in my pockets and pushed through the crowd, keeping my head down as I wove past clusters of drunk college students and couples clinging to each other like lifeboats. Someone bumped into my shoulder, sloshing their drink onto my sleeve, but I barely flinched. I just kept moving, eyes locked on the hallway leading to the private room in the back.I needed to get away from the noise.From the eyes.People were already looking at me — a few girl
POV: CameronI stared at my phone like it was cursed. The screen glowed in the dim light of my room, Brandon’s text burning into my brain like it had been branded there.Brandon: Hey, the guys are throwing a party. It’s kind of our ‘engagement celebration.’ You should come.I read it three times, then dropped the phone on my desk like it had bitten me.He wanted me to come to a party. A celebration. Like we weren’t a complete disaster. Like we hadn’t kissed three weeks ago. Like that kiss wasn’t still wrecking my entire existence.I rubbed my face, trying to shove the memory out of my head, but it clung to me like static electricity. The way his hand had cradled the back of my neck. The way he’d whispered my name right before our lips touched. The way I’d melted into him like a complete idiot instead of stopping it.I should have stopped it.But I didn’t.Now, I couldn’t even look at him without my pulse skyrocketing and my stomach flipping inside out.I closed my eyes, my chest achin
Cameron’s POVI lost. Again.The roar of the engines was still ringing in my ears, my pulse pounding like a war drum. My hands shook, still locked in the death grip I’d had on the wheel. My chest was tight, my breath coming in sharp bursts as I ripped off my helmet and hurled it onto the hood of my car.Brandon Deville won. Again.And there he was—the golden boy of street racing, the untouchable legend.He stood on the winner’s platform, basking in the glow of victory while people swarmed him—his team, his fans, girls who looked like they’d throw themselves at his feet if he so much as blinked in their direction.I wanted to look away. I really did. But I couldn’t.Brandon had everything. The skills, the fame, the sponsors throwing money at him like he was some kind of racing god. And me? I was just the guy who always came in second.I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms.Last time I lost to him, he forced me to go to his ridiculous birthday party. A party. Like I had...
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