The hallway is a bit quiet as I stroll in. Only the muffled hum of the city lights seeps through the tall glass windows, and the low buzz of the elevator dying behind me.

I pause when I get to the suite, my hand hovering over the door handle for a moment, the ghost of a smile tugging at my lips.

She's here. I can feel and smell her, because the air around is already heavy with her scent before I even open the door.

She smells like clean skin and something faintly floral. Soft enough to miss if you aren't close, warm enough to stay long after she's gone.

I push it open slowly, and there she is.

My little firecracker.

Standing by the window, with her back to me, the city glowing behind her like a thousand little fires. Her long, dark hair is loose, falling in waves down her back. Her arms are crossed, but I can see the tremor in her shoulders.

For a second, I just watch her. She's nervous.

Good. She should be.

"I was starting to think you'd chickened out," I murmur knowingly, shutting the door quietly behind me.

She whirls around with wide eyes, her lips parting slightly. Her voice trembles when she speaks, but she tries to steady it. "This.... this was a mistake."

"Yeah?" I take a slow step toward her. "Then why are you here?"

Her throat works as she swallows, her chin lifting in defiance. "I came to tell you to stop. Whatever this is.... it ends now."

I chuckle softly, the sound low and amused. "You've said that before."

"I mean it this time, Slade." her jaw tightens. "This ends now!"

F*ck! How sexy my name sounds on her lips, making me want to do sinful things to her.

"Then walk out." I nod toward the door, keeping my voice calm. "It's right there. I won't stop you."

She blinks, caught off guard. Her gaze flicks to the door, then back to me. Her pulse flutters at her throat, visible even from here.

But she doesn't move.

"I'm serious," I add, stepping closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You want this to end? Then walk out."

Her lips part, breath shaky. "You're arrogant."

"Only when I'm right."

A silence stretches between us, heavy, and charged. The the light in the room glows against her face, softening her edges, but her eyes are wild, alive.

God. They were killing me.

"I hate how you talk to me," she whispers.

"No," I say quietly, tilting my head. "You hate that I make you feel things you're not supposed to."

She exhales shakily, taking a step back. "I'm your brother's fiancee, for fuck's sake. This is wrong, Slade."

"Then stop me."

"You think this is a game?" She glares at me, her voice breaking.

"It was," I admit. "Until I saw you again tonight."

The truth slips out before I can stop it. But she doesn't say anything, and neither did I say anything else.

The silence thickens between us, so sharp I can hear her breathing.... uneven, shaky and defiant. I let it stretch a little longer. Then I reach into my pocket, pull out my phone, and dial a number.

"Suite 1107," I say quietly. "Now."

"What are you doing?" She finally says something, a deep frown curving up her brows.

I don't answer, I just stare at her silently.

Seconds after, a tall woman steps inside confidently in nothing but black lingerie and heels that click like a heartbeat on the tiles as she approaches. She doesn't even glance at Meeka. Her eyes find me, and she knows exactly why she's here.

Meeka stiffens, her pulse visible at the base of her throat.

I lean back in the chair, watching her reaction instead of the woman now crossing the room toward me. My lips curve in a wicked smile. Good. Let her see it. Let her see what kind of man she's playing with.

The woman moves closer, her hand sliding up my chest, her perfume heavy in the air.

Meeka's breath catches, barely a sound, but I hear it. Her fingers twist together, knuckles white. Her gaze flicks between us, her jaw tightening as she takes a step back.

"Slade...." she murmurs, her voice trembling somewhere between disbelief and anger.

I tilt my head lazily toward her, meeting her gaze with a smirk that could cut glass.

"What's wrong, Rebel? You said you wanted this to end. I'm just making that easy for you."

The woman shifts closer, the room thick with tension as she kneels before me. She grabs my belt and begins to unbuckle it.

The moment she's done with the belt, she grabs my length and begins to stroke it.

A low sound escapes me.... half groan, half challenge, just to see her flinch. I shouldn't enjoy this, but I do. Too much.

Meeka's eyes darken. She tries to hide it, but she's already losing the battle.

"You're disgusting." Her throat bobs.

I chuckle low. "You didn't think I was that night."

Her lips part, words failing her. I can practically see the storm behind her eyes.... rage, guilt and jealousy, maybe. All tangled up in something she refuses to name.

"Fuck!" I curse as the woman takes me in, sucking me like her life depends on my d*ck.

My lustful eyes stay fixed on Meeka while the woman worships my length. She gags, pulls back slightly then swallows me completely and I groan out again, my eyes never leaving Meeka.

I'm going all the way out for her. I'm allowing this woman touch me in ways she shouldn't, all because of her.

God. I feel like throwing up. Really bad. But I won't. I have to endure this for her.

She said she wants us to end it, then let her prove it by walking out that door. By not getting affected by this. This is her last chance, and if she does walk out, then I'll let her go.... forever.

"Shit!" Another groan escapes my lips and I throw my head slightly backwards, but my eyes are still on her.

She's fuming. I can see the rage in her eyes but she's still holding herself together. Barely.

And just when I think she's winning.

"F*cking stop!" she yells, and the woman freezes instantly.

She walks closer to us and pulls the woman up off me. "Get the hell out!"

The word tears out of her, sharp and loud, echoing against the walls.

A dark smirk tugs at the corner of my lips.

MEEKA'S POV::

"F*cking stop!" I snap, my voice ricocheting off the walls.

The woman freezes instantly.

I move before I can think, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her up. "Get the hell out!" I spit, and she doesn't hesitate. She scrambles to her feet and rushes out immediately, the sound of her heels can break the tiles if they pound any harder than they are.

My chest rises and falls, breath ragged.

I turn to Slade, fury shaking through me. "You're disgusting."

He doesn't flinch even a little. He just leans back, watching me with that damn smirk tugging at his lips, like he's amused. Like this is a game.

That look burns through me, and I can't stand it.

I snatch my handbag from the chair like it personally offended me, and spin toward the door. My shoes strike the floor hard as I storm out, heat prickling behind my eyes.

God. Why did I come here? What the hell was I thinking? Did I really expect anything else from him?

He asked me to come here for this? For some twisted power play?

And most importantly, why the hell did I do what I just did?

What is wrong with me?

Well, I didn't do it because I was jealous. Why would I even be? I just couldn't stand the stupid shit they were doing, because it was disgusting.

My pulse hammers as I push through the lobby doors, the cool night air hitting my face. I keep walking fast toward the parking lot, my heart still in my throat.

And even as I do, I can't stop glancing back over my shoulder, hoping he's not following me, even though the other stupid half hopes he is.

Jesus.

By the time I reach my car, my hands are shaking so badly I almost drop the keys. I slide into the driver's seat and slam the door shut, the echo filling the silence that's pressing against my skull.

For a few seconds, I just sit there, breathing like I just ran a marathon.

I'm trying to calm the pounding in my chest. Trying not to see what I just saw.

But every time I close my eyes, it's there again.

His face. That smirk. And that woman on her knees.

"God!" I curse under my breath and jam the key into the ignition. The engine roars to life, and I pull out of the parking lot fast enough to make the tires screech.

I drive straight home, my fingers gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles ache. My head's spinning, my heart's racing, and I can't decide if I'm angry at him or at myself.

Probably both.

By the time I pull into my driveway, I'm trembling. I stare at my front door through the windshield, the headlights illuminating the house that's supposed to feel like safety. But right now, it feels suffocating.

I can't stay here. I need a distraction, need to be around people.... someone.

Before I can stop myself, I shift the gear and turn the wheel, pulling out again. Minutes later, I'm on the road to Nathaniel's.

Maybe I just need to see him. Remind myself of what's right. Of what normal feels like.

I need to get Slade f*cking DeWitt, and that scene, out of my head.

I pull up in front of Nathaniel's house, stepping out of the car and heading straight inside.

Thankfully, neither of his parents are home.

Good.

Because I'm not ready to talk to anyone or answer anyone's unnecessary questions this night.

I go straight to Nathaniel's room and knock softly.

"Come in," his calm voice calls out.

When I step in, he's standing by the dresser, with a towel slung around his shoulders. Droplets of water trail down his chest, catching the light.

Looks like he just had his bath.

"Meeka?" His brows lift, surprise flickering across his face.

I ignore it and step closer, forcing a smile. "How are you feeling now?"

"A lot better." He still looks a little thrown. "You didn't say you were coming over."

"I don't need to book an appointment to see you, do I?" I say lightly, a teasing edge hiding the tightness in my chest.

"That's not what I meant," he replies with a small smile, reaching for his towel again.

Before he can, I take it from his hand. "Let me."

He doesn't protest. He just sits on the edge of the dresser, letting me towel his hair dry.

"I told you I'd check up on you after work, didn't I?" I say softly, fingers brushing through his hair.

"Yeah, you did. But I'm fine now. You shouldn't have stressed yourself coming to check on me again." he says, our eyes meeting through the mirror. "You look really tired," he adds softly. "Rough day at work?"

Rough day. The words echo in my head.

Yeah, if watching your fiancé's brother get sucked off by some woman in a hotel room counts as a rough day, then sure, I had a very rough one.

"You have no idea."

My fingers keep moving through his hair, slower now. The towel's dampness clings to my hand, the scent of his cologne faint beneath the steam.

I should stop thinking about it. About him.

But the harder I try, the clearer it gets.... Slade's voice, his damn devilishly handsome face when that woman was sucking him. And God, I can't believe that I'm.... I'm getting turned on right now, just thinking about it.

Shit!