16. Ayla

16

AYLA

T he kiss was a complete accident. At first.

His lips claim mine, warm and insistent. My towel-clad body presses against him as his strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against him. My heart races, threatening to beat out of my chest. This can’t be happening.

But it is. Teller is kissing me, his embrace both comforting and electrifying. My mind screams that we shouldn’t be doing this, that it was just an accidental slip that landed me in his arms. But my body overrides all rational thought, melting into his touch.

I let out a small gasp as Teller deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of my lips. Desire ripples through me. This is wrong, so wrong...but it feels exhilarating, like fireworks exploding inside me. A thrill rushes down my spine as our mouths move together, hungry and urgent.

His fingers skim up my back, setting my nerve endings ablaze through the towel. I tangle my hands in his hair, savoring the silky strands between my fingers. A deep moan rumbles in Teller’s chest and I swallow the sound, reveling in what I’m able to evoke in him.

In this charged, passionate moment, nothing exists but the press of Teller’s hard body against mine, the slide of his lips stoking the flames threatening to consume me. I’m lost to the dance of our tongues, drunk on the taste of him. Rational thought is a distant memory. All that matters is chasing this delicious friction.

This chemistry between us is undeniable, electric. It’s like we were made to fit together, two puzzle pieces finally sliding into place.

But as Teller’s hands skim lower, cupping my backside to pull me flush against him, a memory intrudes, dousing the heat coursing through my veins. Bryce, my first boyfriend, flashes in my mind - his sly grin as he sweet-talked me, the sting of betrayal when I caught him making out with Lila…my older sister.

I’d been so naive, thinking Bryce actually cared about me. But it was all a ruse to get close to my sister. Our entire relationship had been nothing but a lie. A bitter taste fills my mouth, warring with the sweetness of Teller.

No. I wrench my head back, breaking our kiss. I can’t let myself fall into the same trap, no matter how good this feels. Teller’s eyes open, hazy with desire.

Teller studies me hard, confused, but he doesn’t say anything. He loosens his grip on me and I stumble back, putting space between us. My body screams at the loss of his warmth but I hold firm.

The wooden floorboards feel cold beneath my bare feet as I practically sprint down the hallway, desperate to put distance between Teller and me. Each step reverberates through the quiet house, echoing the pounding of my heart against my ribcage.

I reach the guest room and slam the door shut behind me, pressing my back against it as if to barricade myself from the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. My breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and I cover my mouth with a trembling hand as if I can somehow contain the chaos inside.

Closing my eyes, I try to steady myself, but all I can see is Teller’s face and those blue eyes darkened with desire, hungry for another kiss. A kiss that should never have happened. A kiss that I can’t seem to shake from my mind.

“Get it together, Ayla,” I whisper harshly to myself.

But even as I say the words, I know it’s futile. That kiss, that connection, it’s thrown me completely off balance. I’ve always prided myself on my control, on my ability to keep people at arm’s length. But with Teller, all it took was one moment of weakness for those carefully constructed walls to come crumbling down.

A gentle knock on the door jolts me from my thoughts, my heart leaping into my throat. “Ayla?” Teller’s deep voice sends shivers down my spine. “I have your bag with your clothes from the living room.”

His words, so casual and mundane, feel surreal after the intensity of our kiss. It’s as if he’s pretending nothing happened, and for a moment, I wonder if I imagined the whole thing.

But the lingering tingle on my lips reminds me that it was all too real.

Against my better judgment, I find myself moving towards the door, drawn by an invisible force. My hand trembles as I reach for the knob, my pulse racing in anticipation.

I open the door, and there he stands, looking unfairly gorgeous with his tousled hair and piercing eyes. He holds out my bag. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. As I take the bag from him, our fingers brush, and electricity sparks between us.

I can’t help but let my gaze wander, taking in the broad expanse of his shoulders, the chiseled lines of his jaw. He’s like a Greek god come to life, and I feel my attraction to him growing with each passing second.

Teller clears his throat, and I realize I’ve been staring. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I quickly avert my eyes. “I should probably...get changed.”

Before I can fully shut the door, Teller’s hand shoots out, pushing it back open. I gasp, startled by the sudden movement. He steps closer, his towering frame filling the doorway, and reaches for my wrist. His fingers wrap around it, firm but gentle, and he tugs me toward him.

I stumble forward, my body colliding with his solid chest. “Teller, what?—”

“Shh.” His voice is low, barely above a whisper. Teller leans in, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. My body aches for fingers I know I shouldn’t want, for lips to trail over my skin until I’m gasping. “Don’t tell anyone about the kiss.”

His words send a shiver down my spine. The secretive tone, the way his breath tickles my skin—it all adds to the electric tension between us. I find myself nodding, unable to form a coherent response.

Teller’s thumb traces small circles on the inside of my wrist, his touch setting my nerves ablaze. I feel his gaze on me, intense and unwavering. “It’s our little secret, okay?”

“Okay,” I breathe out, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

He lingers for a moment longer, his proximity making my heart race. Then, as quickly as he grabbed me, Teller releases my wrist and steps back.

I blink, trying to clear the haze from my mind. The spot where his fingers touched my skin tingles, a reminder of the effect he has on me.

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing in the doorway, my pulse pounding in my ears. I watch his retreating figure, my thoughts a jumbled mess.

What just happened? The intensity of our encounter, the way he pulled me close and whispered in my ear—it’s almost too much to process.

I close the door, leaning against it as I try to catch my breath. Teller’s words echo in my mind. Our little secret. The thought sends a thrill through me, even as a part of me knows it’s wrong.

But I can’t deny the way my body reacts to his touch, the way my heart races at the mere thought of him. As much as I try to fight it, I’m drawn to Teller in a way I can’t explain.

In the solitude of the guest room, I sink onto the bed, my mind reeling. The events of the past few minutes play in my head like a movie reel, each frame more vivid than the last.

I close my eyes, and I’m back in Teller’s arms, his lips on mine, his touch igniting a fire within me. It’s a feeling I’ve never experienced before, a hunger that consumes me.

I run my fingers through my hair, trying to make sense of it all. I know I should feel guilty, ashamed even though he’s my boss. Or at least one of my bosses for a job I love. But instead, there’s a part of me that craves more.

And not just with Teller…but with all my bosses.