IN TOO DEEP

Sienna’s hands trembled as she knocked on Damien’s penthouse door. A part of her hoped he wasn’t home, that she could turn around and walk away before she made a mistake she couldn’t take back. But deep down, she knew she wouldn’t.

She needed answers.

The door swung open, and there he was—Damien King, standing tall and commanding in the dim light. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up, exposing the muscular forearms she’d once imagined tracing with her fingers. His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable as he leaned against the doorway, one brow arched.

“Sienna,” he murmured.

Just the way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine.

She took a steadying breath. “We need to talk.”

He stepped aside, allowing her in without a word. The penthouse was as sleek and breathtaking as she remembered. Floor-to-ceiling windows displayed the dazzling city skyline, and the scent of expensive cologne and whiskey lingered in the air.

She turned to face him, her heart hammering in her chest. “Why do you keep doing this?”

Damien’s jaw tightened. “Doing what?”

“Pushing me away, then pulling me back,” she snapped. “You act like you don’t care, but then you show up, and suddenly, it’s like I’m the only thing that matters.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he said nothing.

“Tell me the truth, Damien,” she pressed. “Is this some kind of game to you?”

His expression darkened, and in a blink, he closed the space between them. His hands gripped her waist, firm yet hesitant, as if he was battling himself.

“You think this is a game?” His voice was low, dangerous. “You think I don’t fight this every damn day?”

Sienna swallowed hard. “Then why are you fighting it?”

His eyes burned into hers. “Because I don’t do relationships.”

Silence stretched between them. She had expected that answer, but hearing it still felt like a punch to the gut.

She took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself. “So that’s it? You want me, but only on your terms?”

Damien exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “It is. You either want me, or you don’t.”

He was quiet for a long moment, and just when she thought he wouldn’t answer, he took her face in his hands, his touch both rough and reverent.

“I want you,” he admitted, his voice raw. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything. But wanting you means risking everything.”

Her breath hitched as his lips brushed hers, soft at first, then deepening into something desperate and consuming. He kissed her like he was drowning, like she was the only thing keeping him afloat.

And God help her, she kissed him back.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, her body pressing against his, needing more, needing all of him. He groaned against her lips, his hands skimming down her back, igniting a fire she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to put out.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling.

“This is dangerous,” he murmured.

She looked into his stormy eyes, knowing she should walk away before it was too late. But she also knew the truth.

It was already too late.

She was in too deep.