Chapter 5 Chapter 5 Just Stay Tonight

Megan took a deep breath-the fresh scent clinging to the man was oddly intoxicating.

She tried to slide her hand out from his shirt, but he held her still.

Tristan turned his head and looked at her. "Didn't finish counting, did you? Keep going."

Megan blinked, her clear eyes flickering. "I... I."

Under the blanket, his warm hand gripped her slender wrist and gently guided her downward. His voice was low, deep, magnetic. "Five... six... seven... eight."

"Nine." Megan followed his movement, murmuring softly.

Her eyes flew open in shock. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-I swear!"

Even Tristan looked a little stunned for a moment, his Adam's apple sliding up and down. "You didn't mean to? huh?"

Megan jerked her hand back, her face instantly flushing pink.

With one quick move, he pinned her beneath him, eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. "So, you're admitting it now?"

She stared straight at his impossibly handsome face, especially those deep, predatory eyes that seemed to suck her right in.

She swallowed nervously. "I-I didn't."

Trying to redirect the conversation, she cleared her throat and muttered, "Didn't you head to the office? Why are you back?"

"Just wanted to check if you'd eaten something. Don't try changing the subject-earlier who was it that said I'm too demanding, huh?"

That teasing lilt at the end of his sentence made her shudder all over.

She coughed lightly. "Well, I knew she had her eyes on you, so... I might've said something to rattle her a bit."

"Hmm? Weren't you the one who trusted her the most?"

Megan looked sly. "After starving for a few days, I think my brain finally rebooted. I can finally tell who's good and who's bad."

Tristan gave her a lazy smile. "So, where do I fall? Good or bad?"

Her dark eyes reflected his sharp features. "You're good. Really good. Especially to me."

"Seriously, who's the genius telling everyone I'm some possessive freak 24/7?"

Megan quickly shook her head. "Shh! No more of that-you're the best, Tristan."

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Words are nice, but actions talk louder."

Then, without warning, he buried his face into her neck, taking in her scent. The unique fragrance of her made his breath quicken despite himself.

All the control he prided himself on? Completely dismantled the moment she came into his life.

And now, holding her in his arms felt surreal.

"You're something else, Megan," he murmured against her skin.

Her small hands pressed against his chest, eyelashes fluttering. "I'm here."

Tristan slowly lifted his head. "I... want to."

That ragged edge of pleading in his voice hit Megan like a physical blow, a sharp twist beneath her ribs. Her breath hitched. Without thinking, she rose on trembling toes, her palms cradling his jaw. The rough scrape of his stubble against her skin sent sparks up her wrists as she pressed her lips to his-a tentative brush, feather-light.

He went utterly still for a heartbeat. Then, with a low groan that vibrated against her mouth, he took control. No fumbling, no hesitation-just pure, instinctive mastery. His hand slid into her hair, fingers tangling at her nape to angle her head exactly where he wanted it. The kiss deepened slowly, deliberately; his mouth moving over hers with devastating expertise-a languid exploration that tasted of desperation and dark honey.

She melted into him, her fingers slipping into his hair as he refused to relent. His other arm locked around her waist, crushing her against the hard lines of his body. Time blurred. There was only the slick heat of his tongue tracing her lower lip, the possessive pressure of his palm splayed across the small of her back, the dizzying rhythm of give-and-take that left her gasping into his mouth. Every retreat she attempted was met with a firmer pull, a deeper claim-an unspoken demand for surrender written in the scrape of teeth and the addicting pressure of his breath mingling with hers.

When he finally broke for air, his forehead pressed hard against hers, both of them panting. His thumb swept her swollen bottom lip, eyes black with something far beyond satisfaction.

"See?" The word rasped out, raw with triumph. "No escape."

Heat tore through Tristan's veins like liquid wildfire, every nerve ending scorched raw. Where their bodies pressed-hip to thigh, chest to collarbone-a treacherous friction sparked, threatening to ignite the control he clung to. God, she felt too good. Every shift of her hips struck flint against steel inside him.

Yet he forced stillness into his limbs, breath sawing ragged between clenched teeth. To rush this-to let the inferno consume them now-felt like stealing something sacred. Megan deserved reverence, not ravishment. So he gentled his grip, though every instinct screamed to claim, to brand her mouth with his need. Patience, he commanded the beast within. Or you'll lose her forever.

Tristan stopped and touched her forehead and gently tousled her hair. "Be good. Go to sleep. I'll head back to my room."

Megan grinned softly, turned over, and grasped his hand. "Don't go. Just stay with me, okay?"

"Okay."

That "okay" came so fast it was like he was afraid she'd take it back.

Without a second thought, he crawled under the covers and settled in.

Megan peeked up at him, then burrowed into his chest, rubbing against him like a cat.

She hadn't eaten or rested properly these days, so her energy was super low. In no time, she was out cold.

Tristan looked down at the little bundle in his arms, a faint smile playing on his lips.

All his earlier stress from meetings vanished the second he saw her.

Hard to believe that this same girl had been yelling at him in her dreams just last night, and now she was snuggling quietly in his arms.

He held her tighter, like he was scared she'd disappear if he let go.

Resting his chin gently against her soft hair, his eyes slowly shut.

If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.

♥

A red Ferrari sped through the middle of the road.

Behind the wheel, Molly had a pair of oversized sunglasses hiding half her face. Her teeth clenched on her lower lip, clearly fuming.

She slammed the horn a few times, sharp beeps yelling out her frustration.

"Why her? Seriously, why does she get to be engaged to Tristan ? And now she even slept with him?!"

"I've tried every trick in the book to mess them up, how are they still together?! Ughhhh!"

Her voice rose into an angry scream.

Suddenly, she flicked on her right blinker, changed lanes, and pulled up by the curb.

Grabbing her phone, she scrolled to a contact labeled "Wyatt" and hit call.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, flicking her long black hair and raising an eyebrow.

The call connected.

Her voice was sweet as honey, full of flirt. "Wyatt, where are you?"

"At Enigma Club, babe. Wanna swing by?"

She rolled her eyes and mock-whined, "Tch! Who's the girl this time, huh?"A low chuckle came from the man on the other end. "Tsk tsk, babe, it's always been just you. You're clinging onto me 24/7-how would I even have time to mess around with anyone else?"

Molly scoffed coldly. "You'd better remember that. Which room?"

"Room 888."

She hung up and pulled out a compact mirror and loose powder from her purse, freshening up her makeup. Then she re-applied her lipstick with practiced ease.

"Megan, you bitch! Tristan is mine sooner or later. Just wait and see."

Snapping her purse shut, she started her car and sped off without a second glance.

♥

Dreamscape Manor.

The echoes of two gunshots rang through Megan's dream, followed by the flash of a man plunging a military sword straight into her chest.

"No!"

She snapped awake, gasping, her heart racing like crazy.

Tristan's brows furrowed tightly. So deep down, she was still afraid of him, wasn't she?

All those soft looks and gentle words before... were they all an act?

Was she just trying to ease him into letting her go?

That had to be it.

His face darkened just a bit, and he moved to get up.

But before he could, the girl reached out, clutching him tightly. "Don't go. Tristan... please stay. I was so scared."

He raised his hand and gently traced slow, calming circles on her back. "I thought you were afraid of me."

Megan shook her head, eyes earnest. "I'd rather never be apart from you-not even for a second. Why would I be afraid of you?"

That hit him right in the heart. Still, her sudden warmth compared to how she was yesterday-it was too different. It made him uneasy.

He couldn't help thinking all of this was just a sweet trap waiting to snap shut.

Patting her back softly, he stood. "You're drenched in sweat. I'll go run you a bath."

"Mm."

Megan let go of him, her eyes following his steps as he turned away. The corners of her lips curled up slightly.

He hadn't left. That was all she needed right now.

A few minutes later, Tristan returned from the bathroom. He came over, leaned down by her side, slid one arm beneath her back and another under her knees, and scooped her up effortlessly.

"I can do it myself," she murmured, startled.

He set her down gently in the bathroom and stepped out, softly shutting the door behind him.

"If you start feeling off at all, just call me, okay?"

"Okay."

Megan slipped out of her nightgown, stepping into the warm bathwater.

Leaning back against the tub, she let her mind wander, piecing together her next move.

In her last life, after escaping Dreamscape Manor today, she'd been caught by Molly and locked away in some hidden basement.

And then next Saturday night-just a week from now-her grandfather had been "murdered by Tristan."

Obviously, the real puppeteers were Wyatt and Molly.

But if she set it up right this time, laid out the trap early, she might stop that murder before it happened-and actually expose the real culprits.

But first, she needed to get out of this place. She couldn't afford to keep living like some pet in a cage.

Rubbing her temple, she sighed lightly. Priority number one: persuade Tristan to let her go.

The warmth of the water surrounded her, relaxing her tense muscles. She leaned against the back of the tub, eyes narrowing slightly as she mapped out what to say to Tristan.

At some point, without realizing it, her body had started sinking lower along the curved edge of the bathtub.