Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Matilda's POV

He seemed a bit exasperated by my tantrum, finally compromising with a question. "You need somewhere to sleep. Don't you plan on going to work tomorrow to earn money?"

Earn money. Right. Money!

Gemma was still in the hospital. I still needed this job. I needed money! I couldn't be reckless. I couldn't fall apart.

I finally relented, my grip on the bottle slowly loosening as I mumbled, "Money... earn money..."

I struggled to stand up, but between the alcohol and my injured foot, my legs had turned to jelly. The moment I tried to rise, I stumbled, about to fall.

"Careful." That voice spoke as a pair of warm hands steadied me. Before I could react, I felt weightless—I'd been swept up into his arms.

I let out a small cry. The sensation of being lifted made me instinctively reach up, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, burying my face in a solid, warm chest.

So warm. His body heat radiated through the thin fabric of his shirt, pressing against my cold cheek. And there was a faint but strangely familiar crisp scent filling my nose.

This scent was so familiar. Familiar enough to bring me a sense of calm even in my drunken state, yet it also stirred up those chaotic, burning memories hidden deep in my mind.

Instinctively, I leaned closer to the curve of his neck, breathing deeply, then pressed my cheek against it, nuzzling.

The arms holding me clearly stiffened. Through the thin fabric, I could feel the muscles in his chest instantly tense.

The next second, I was set down, my back meeting something soft. A bed. I sank into the plush mattress, too dizzy to move.

Then a tall shadow loomed over me. He braced his hands on either side of my body, looking down at me. "What are you nuzzling?"

I blinked my hazy eyes and answered honestly, "Your scent is familiar."

"Is it?" He seemed to hum softly. "What kind of scent?"

I wrinkled my nose, struggling to search for words in my alcohol-numbed brain, then answered seriously. "You smell like... a total jerk."

Just like Wellington—that calm, distant scent tinged with an invisible sense of oppression, as if he controlled everything and could easily upend someone's entire life. That jerk vibe.

If that jerk hadn't done those things to me at the hotel, if he hadn't appeared in my life bringing all this chaos and trouble, how would my life have suddenly spiraled out of control? How would it have become such a mess? How would Kerena have ended up hating me? How would I be homeless, getting drunk in a bar like some vagrant?

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Suddenly, I reached up and grabbed his tie hanging near my face, yanking it down hard.

Caught off guard, he was pulled down, letting out a muffled grunt.

"Matilda," he said my name. "Don't do this. It's dangerous."

Dangerous? The word flickered through my foggy mind, but I only found it laughable. Could anything be more dangerous than my life right now?

Breathing in that scent—so familiar it was carved into my bones, yet so infuriating—a wild impulse suddenly took root.

I wanted revenge. Since it was all because of whoever owned this scent, since everything was already a mess, might as well let it all fall apart!

I released his tie and instead shot my hands upward, cupping his face and pulling him toward me. Then, under his startled gaze, I lifted my head and bit down hard on his jaw!

He grunted, his hand cupping the back of my head. "What are you doing?"

'What am I doing? Biting you to death, obviously!'

Everything about him—just like Wellington—reeked of expensive, mind-scrambling arrogance. In this moment, it all felt so damned insufferable.

I hooked my arms around his neck, pulling myself up, moving from his jaw to his vulnerable Adam's apple.

He sucked in a sharp breath, but his breathing grew ragged. His hand gripped my waist, pressing my body closer to his.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" His voice had gone rough.

His infuriatingly hot breath scattered across my neck. I shrank back slightly. "That tickles..."

The ticklish sensation traveled from my ear like an electric current through my entire body. Every hair on my exposed skin stood on end.

I couldn't help pushing him weakly. "Get away from me..."

But his tall frame felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, completely unmoved by my feeble attempts.

That heat poured from his breath onto my skin, flowing through every vein in my body before pooling low in my belly.

I couldn't suppress a soft whimper. Damn it. My ears were my most sensitive spot.

Furiously, I bit down on one of his shirt buttons. The next second, his long fingers caught my chin, and cool lips pressed against mine.

Soft, like jelly. I couldn't resist—I bit down gently.

His breath hitched, then he deepened the kiss, prying my mouth open, claiming every corner.

The overwhelming heat of his masculine presence enveloped me completely. He held me so tightly I could barely breathe.

Under his assault, my tense body unknowingly softened, my leg unconsciously hooking around his straight, long ones.

That flame burned through my body, spreading everywhere, threatening to overflow.

I whimpered. Jerk... Just like Wellington. An infuriating jerk.

Frustrated, I reached up to unbutton his shirt. His kiss suddenly stopped. He gripped my shoulders, pushing me back slightly. "Matilda, don't be impulsive. You'll regret this tomorrow."

Fury instantly flared in my chest. What kind of person was this? Starting a fire but refusing to put it out!

I grabbed his loosened tie and yanked him toward me. We tumbled together onto the soft bed. My legs parted, wrapping around his waist, my most sensitive place pressing against the hardest part of him.

I couldn't help grinding against him slightly. He groaned, caught my wrists, pinning them above my head, while his other hand roughly tore away my thin barrier.

The sound of his metal belt buckle opening came with his heavy breathing. His knee pushed my tense legs apart, his hardness pressing against my already slick entrance. "Matilda, last chance."

"You..." I shifted restlessly. I didn't know how to tell him what I wanted—those explicit words were too embarrassing to say aloud. My eyes grew damp with frustration.

But he understood. He bent down, kissing the tears at the corners of my eyes. "Don't be scared. I know."