Chapter Twenty-Two

Twenty-Two

C onfined in a mad scientist's lab, solving one puzzle after another before the sixty minutes run out, Erik and I strengthen our cooperation skills together with Lars, Lotte, Chiara, George, and Alex. We make a swift escape while Martin, Astrid, Ellen, Mads, Simon, and Lia remain locked in the other identical room for fifteen more minutes to finally get out when the game master opens the door.

In other words: we beat the hell out of them.

At a table in a nearby pub, drinking beer, we boast about our superiority in the escape room, and Astrid marks victory points for the winning teams on the leaderboard. After today, Erik and I are tied for first place with Team Georgelex.

"Should we vote on the wild challenge pictures now?" Astrid suggests, and everyone agrees.

She has gathered all the pictures on her tablet, including mine and Erik's from our winter bathing experience this morning, which I sent to her privately before we came.

"When did you guys do that?" Chiara asks me, smiling, when it's her turn with the iPad.

"This morning, actually," I say, my cheeks flushing. Erik's face is rosy too.

"Tell us more about it!" Lars smiles. "Are you winter bathers?"

"It was the first time for both of us," Erik answers.

George then jokes, "I hope you guys enjoyed your first time." His words are loaded with insinuation, and we all laugh, me hiding my face in embarrassment. Because this time, it is true. I get even shyer when Erik takes my face in his hands and kisses me. Some clap and whoop.

"Aren't they sweet?" Alex lowers his head onto George's shoulder, sighing.

"Let me see the picture," Lars says as he receives the iPad, and I watch his expression. His smile looks approving. "I'd give you guys a high-five if I could." Lars is sitting at the opposite end of the table. "A toast, then!" He lifts his glass.

"To love," Erik says, lifting his beer too, and my heart goes wild in my chest.

Love. Thump-thump.

Love? Thump-thump.

Ah, if only...

I can't allow myself to be so hopeful.

Everyone toasts to love, and I keep my eyes on Erik's sweet smile. On the soft wavy hair that I helped him brush and tie, only the upper half, in a small elastic. On our fingers interlocked on the table. On the beard that he trimmed again because he knows I like it better like that. On his transparent ocean eyes...

He gives me another quick kiss, then gazes at me, so attractive and suggestive that I get instantly aroused. I'm so in love, so full of lust, I want to snatch him out of his chair, pull him into the bathroom and make out. I can't wait to get home and feel his hands on my naked body—his fingers exploring my breasts, my butt, and then entering me slowly...

My lips stretch into a sly smirk, and he sees where my thoughts are. I can tell his are there too. His fingers trace over my leg under the table, moving under my dress and going farther up. Even though I'm wearing tights, it feels so good I almost let out a moan. It's suddenly so hot in the pub, I have to fan myself with the menu. With my other hand, I seek Erik's fingers under the table and interlace them on mine, stopping him before he makes me jump onto his lap.

I focus on what's going on around me. Although our picture was the coolest—in every sense of the word—Martin wins the voting with his shot midair when bungee-jumping sixty meters down from a crane. I don't mind that Martin gets this one victory. Our winter bathing experience was worthy in every way.

When Erik and I get home, he carries me to his room as soon as I get rid of my shoes and jacket. "You look so fucking sexy in this dress."

He runs his hands over my body, following my silhouette, and I glue my mouth to his with all the passion I had to contain in front of my coworkers.

Now, finally alone at home, there's fire and fireworks. A drumming of heartbeats and grunts of impatient desire. I lift his sweater and T-shirt over his head in a single bundle and throw them across the room. He kisses me, wild, eager. His fingers handle my back zipper blindly. Soon the dress is falling, and I'm stepping on it, hands gripping his strong arms and shoulders until he places me in bed. The flustered butterflies in my stomach join my thudding heart in a riot to lay claim on Erik as quickly as possible, and I obey, bewitched.

He opens his belt, then unzips his pants, and I help him get rid of them. I lower his boxer briefs down his thick, muscular thighs, unveiling his hard cock, and my need to feel it in me makes me ache.

Once he's fully naked, I pull him down with a kiss and roll us around on the bed so I can be on top. I need him under me—under my control. I run my nails over his massive chest and down his ripped abs, biting my lower lip. This god , he's all mine. He gives me a sexy smile, amused, aroused, rock-hard against my soft, throbbing folds.

As he teases me at my entrance, his hands go to my breasts. He massages my nipples, stoking the fire in my insides, and I press myself against him, rubbing my clit on his hardness. He keeps touching me, enticing me, and in between moans, I kiss his neck, inhale the citrusy scent of his skin, and run my nose over his rough beard.

"The day you slept in this bed, I couldn't stop thinking about sharing it with you," he whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"Is that why you couldn't sleep?" I whisper back as he kisses me on the earlobe. God, it's amazing...

"Absolutely." He kisses the skin under my chin. I arch my back, burning, and grip his shoulders with extra strength. I keep rubbing my clit against his cock, and it's getting so good , I might come before he's even inside.

"You were a walking temptation, Sol Carvalho." He kisses the skin under my ear and pulls me closer with his hands on my butt as if he's thrusting into me, though he's still outside. I groan, needing more. "I knew I was torturing myself when I agreed to have you here."

And you're torturing me now, making me wait...

I want to hear him though. "So why did you say yes?" My voice comes out between sighs of pleasure.

He holds my face a little above his so he can look into my eyes. "Because I thought I was stronger," he says with a lopsided grin and puts a strand of my hair that had been tickling his face behind my ear. My hair is loosely tied in a ponytail, so as I shake my head and laugh, more rebellious hair slips out of the hair tie and lands on him.

"Being strong is for the weak," I say.

His laugh tickles my ear. Then he uses his powerful arms to roll us around in one swift move so that he ends up on top of me. "I guess I knew that all along," he whispers hoarsely, his huge muscular body covering mine, and God , it's sexy.

"So, you wanted me all this time?" I say, and it's my turn to take a few loose strands of his hair and tuck them behind his ears. Before Erik, I'd never dated a guy with longer hair than mine, and I thought I would never, ever do that. Why was I so silly?

His big hard cock is right at my opening, pushing through slowly. I'm so wet. So ready.

"Come in already," I say between my teeth, but he ignores the plea to answer my question.

"I wanted you from the day I met you at the English pub," he says on my lips.

A flare of ecstasy pumps my hopeful heart, warming my chest until it matches my burning core.

"When I saw your profile on Cinder—your sweet smile, your dark warm eyes, your beautiful face—I thought I'd doom myself, and I was right."

I smile and grab his cock, aching for him. I'm going to put him in now. He smiles back, and then his fingers enter me, taking my breath away.

"When you told me why you asked me out," he continues as his fingers go deeper, fogging my mind, his hoarse voice even rougher with the vulnerability he usually never expresses. I squeeze his nape, eager for more—of both what he's doing with his fingers and what he's saying. "I was...sad. Disappointed. I wanted it to have been a real date. With the night ending up right where we are now."

His words are as erotic as his movements. My mind is taken over by pleasure, but I manage to say a breathy, "Really?" Gosh, if I'd known that back then...

"Oh yeah, min skat ," he says right as he reaches my G-spot. I shudder and moan loudly, feeling so good I can't be quiet. And Erik calling me his treasure? That's the sexiest thing he could have done.

"I could have said no to you living with me, but part of me knew I had to keep you near," he goes on, not satisfied with my moan. He's aiming for a scream. For a full, long-lasting orgasm. One that will make me wake up all the neighbors.

I'm flaming, throbbing, impatient for the end and, at the same time, dreading the moment it will be over.

He's clouding my thoughts—especially when he lowers his head and starts licking me. I'm shaking uncontrollably, my legs are jelly, but I'm aware of what he's doing. I mean, besides making me burn and yearn for him. He's distracting me. Because he is being more honest than ever, and he doesn't want me to focus on the fact that he is dropping his armor to strip off the layers of truth underneath it.

After all, being metaphorically naked in front of each other is unnerving. More than it is to be literally naked. It's scary because it connects us even more.

He stops licking and kissing my pussy and stares at me for a moment. I lie flat on the mattress, legs spread out, shaking and panting. Hungry for the finale.

"When we met at the pub, I considered moving on with the date and forgetting my stupid idea," I confess.

Erik smiles. "It wasn't so stupid after all."

He kisses me. Hard. Urgent. I slide my fingers up his nape and grip his loose, messy bun, keeping him close. His tongue dances with mine, inebriating me. I can't stand it anymore.

"I need you in me now , Erik," I say, urgent, desperate. "Make me come, please."

Finally, finally , he penetrates me, deeper and deeper, and our bodies become one. Having his massiveness contained within my tight walls makes me shudder and struggle for air. When he starts thrusting, it's almost unbearable. I'm ablaze, consumed, so close...

And as the incoming explosion builds, I conclude that I don't know what makes me most satisfied: Erik filling every inch of space inside me or his admission that he wanted me from the start. His moans and sighs are music to my ears. His skin is my haven. I've never felt so much a part of someone else.

We are one. He completes me.

He's my best friend, my home, my work, my lover. He is part of everything that makes me who I am in Denmark. It's frightening to need someone so much. It's terrifying to know that, without him, nothing makes sense.

Erik starts thrusting harder, deliciously aggressive, and the touch of his hands on my body puts me one hundred percent into the moment. The only thing that matters. Us, here and now, surrendering to our love.

Love. Love? Is it love?

I want it to be love.

"Sol," his vulnerable voice whispers, "you're so fucking sexy..." And the burning reaches its peak.

It's now .

I scream, reveling in pleasure. My muscles tighten around his cock in luscious spasms and trigger him. My climax lasts slightly longer than his, and I grab onto him with all my power until the world goes back to normal. Or as close to normal as amazing feels.

When he is showering, I sit on the closed toilet seat and look at him through the glass door. He is like a mirage. Like a character from a book come to life.

Erik sees me observing him, smiles, and draws a heart for me with his index finger on the steamy glass. I stand still, heart racing, overthinking. Does he mean he loves me? Is it just a meaningless gesture? Why do I have to worry about this now instead of simply enjoying our delicious affair?

I could use the moment to say I love him. I could peel the last layer protecting me from total exposure.

Because I do.

I love Erik Storm.

Maybe my words would get him to say it back. But what if it's too early for him? He's been giving me more than I expected. He's still afraid he is going down the same destructive path for a second time.

I blow him a kiss instead, and he blows one back. We keep it simple. That's how we'll make it last. We'll pretend we don't see how complicated it is. How tangled together our lives are, and how such commitment at the early stages of a relationship can be too much and break everything.

We must learn how to pull back. How to control our impulses and raise walls here and there. It's a complex mechanic to master, one we might not be ready for. We skipped the first stages. We jumped the learning curve. We dived in.

Now, we are stuck with each other. We gave up our privacy after the first time we had sex. We went from friends to "married" in a day.

What if this doesn't work out? Then I'm homeless. And heartbroken. Then I'm back on the hopeless apartment hunt, which might be even harder this time around. Which might mean my only choice, still, is going back to Brazil. And losing my job. And the promotion. And the entire life I thought I could have here.

Now a life I don't want to have with a nameless Danish Prince Charming. But with Erik Storm.

All the air runs out of my lungs when I hear the disastrous news during my first meeting with the design team on Monday.

The next Scorpio Games project, the one to be directed by the new game director yet to be hired, is Erik's game.

Yes, Love Birds. Except it won't be called that.

And it won't be Erik 's game.

It will be a plagiarized version of his idea. Martin's interpretation of it.

"That sounds cool. I love the idea of a mix between a game and a dating app," someone says, and I don't care who it is. My eyes only have one target.

Martin motherfucking Olesen. Son of a snake.

Oh, I hate his pretentious smile. He's staring back at me, victorious. He convinced Lars, who was already interested in the idea. I had no clue Lars would choose the game before even choosing the director.

Does that mean Martin won the promotion? Is it over?

I can't let this happen. I can't sit and watch while a traitor sells his partner's idea to the partner's former employer.

Especially when the betrayed person is the man I love.

"You can't do this," I hear myself say. All eyes are on me now. Something inside me is making me speak, and I'm unable to stop it. "This idea is not available. It's Erik's idea!"

The silence is heavy in the room. Lars is looking at me with his forehead wrinkled, and Martin is a stone carved on top of his chair. Did he think I wouldn't have the courage to say it?

"It is actually my idea," Martin says calmly and wets his lips as if ready for a juicy meal.

"It's a great idea, so we decided to go for it." Lars interlaces his fingers on the table, blinking in untroubled composure as if they are doing absolutely nothing wrong.

I'm having a hard time hiding the shaking of my hands, both closed in tight fists. I can't believe this is happening. How dare they—how—

Breathe, Sol, breathe...

Anyone who investigates properly will know that Martin was a cofounder of Erik's company and was disgusting enough to abandon him, get a job at Erik's former workplace, and steal his idea... An idea he feels entitled to because he also worked on it. Erik didn't protect himself with an NDA. What Martin is doing is unethical, but not illegal.

Looking at Lars now, serious and tough in his posture, I feel nauseated. I know very well that Scorpio Games is a capitalist powerhouse that takes popular ideas and surfs on their wave of success. But I didn't expect them to be so tricky and disgusting.

Erik's company doesn't have the same money and resources as Scorpio. It's just me and him working for free. No matter how much worse Scorpio's version will be, it will be the one to make thousands, millions , and reach the top of the charts...

I'm so furious now I can barely stay in the room, looking at the people acting like it's okay to drive over a tiny car with a tank. How silly was I to think Scorpio wanted to do something original for once!

I take a deep breath. I should keep my cool, at least until the meeting is over. I need time to think things through. If I go mad now, Lars may fire me. Or if he doesn't, I will certainly lose the promotion.

Do I even want to work here though? Do I want to direct Erik's game at Scorpio when he's sitting at home, unemployed, working on his own version all by himself for free?

I would be an even bigger traitor than Martin.

Shit . I sigh. The idea of looking Lars in the eye and saying, I quit , has never been so appealing, but it's also never been as gut-wrenching.

I'm not the same Sol who sat with Lars in late September with the intention of telling him I had to go back to Brazil because I couldn't find a place to live. Now I not only have an apartment; I have a home in Copenhagen, where I'm comfortable and happy.

I have Erik.

Quitting at this point means giving up on him and the life we could build together in this wonderful city. If I don't have this job, the visa, and the money it provides me, I can't stay.

There are no good options. Either I stay at Scorpio and betray Erik, or I give up on my dream and leave him. Neither of the choices give us or our ambitions a fair chance.

So maybe I don't have to choose. Not right now. Not alone.

Controlling my emotions, I stay still and quiet for the rest of the meeting, picturing all the different ways beetle-turned-snake Martin could choke on the venom of his big, poisonous tongue.