Chapter 330

Chapter 330
He stayed that way until he stopped hearing Kenji's footsteps. Only then did he release his breath and sit up, staring blankly into the dark.

"What?" he whispered, touching the racing pulse in his neck. "He's just a weirdo who creeps people out when they sleep. There's nothing hot, cute, or even admirable about his little goodnight kisses... I hate it. I hate it." He murmured quietly, blowing harsh air through his nose.

He sighed and fell back onto his pillow.

He didn't know how, but he knew he needed to get Kenji to stop this before it became a habit... before he got used to it.

As he tried to sleep, he thought of showing Kenji the message, but he waved it off and slept. It was probably nothing.

The next morning...

Kenji was shirtless and standing in front of his coffee machine in his large kitchen when his phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered, turning away from the coffee machine.

"Coming? Yeah, I know you're coming for Sebastian's—what? No, no, no, Sakura, you have to ask me first—no, this doesn't count as asking." He sighed in frustration and raked his hair, listening to Sakura speak.

"Sakura Takumi. I am in no mood to house—" he blinked in disbelief, staring at the blanked-out phone screen.

"Fuck," he slapped his hand on the counter, cursing under his breath.

"I need to leave," Ice suddenly spoke from the door.

Kenji paused, turning to glance at Ice.

Ice was dressed casually, but to Kenji, the black shorts and oversized shirt looked darned cute.

"Good morning," Kenji said, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

Ice gulped.

There it was—that stupid, sexy voice that had played in his head all night. And for Christ's sake, no one had prepared him to see the Asian billionaire shirtless.

Kenji stood there in the soft morning light of the kitchen, completely bare from the waist up, and Ice's brain short-circuited.

His body was pure, expensive power. Broad shoulders tapered into a hard, defined chest that looked carved from warm marble, every muscle sitting in perfect, deliberate balance. Smooth, golden-tan skin stretched over thick pectorals that rose and fell with each calm breath. His abs were a tight, sculpted ladder of muscle—eight distinct ridges that flexed subtly when he shifted his weight against the counter. A thin, dark trail of hair disappeared beneath the low waistband of his black sweatpants, drawing the eye down the sharp V of his hips.

'Stop!' Ice yelled in his head, but his eyes were already drinking in the beautiful view.

Kenji's strong arms crossed over that powerful chest, the veins along his forearms standing out in sharp relief. His biceps looked heavy and solid, the kind that could pin someone down without effort. Even the way he leaned—casual, unbothered—made the muscles in his shoulders and upper back shift under the skin like something alive and dangerous.

Ice's gaze flicked, traitorously, over the faint scars that marked one side of Kenji's ribs and the edge of his collarbone—old, silvery reminders that this body had been through real fights and still looked this devastating. The overall effect was lethal. Not just handsome. Not just fit. Kenji looked like the kind of man who could ruin someone with a single touch and make them thank him for it.

Heat crawled up Ice's neck. His mouth went dry.

Kenji's dark eyes narrowed slightly, catching the way Ice had frozen in the doorway. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"See something you like, Kitten?" he asked, voice still rough from sleep and far too low.

Ice forced his eyes up, scowling hard to hide the way his pulse was hammering.

"Put a shirt on," he muttered, but the words came out weaker than he intended.

Kenji didn't move. He just stayed there, shirtless and completely unbothered, letting Ice look—and knowing exactly what the sight was doing to him.

"Come here, Kitten," Kenji ordered, eyes fixed on Ice.

Ice scoffed. "Are you for real? Like that shit is supposed to be a turn-on or something close to that?"

"Yes," Kenji replied, tone serious, eyes intense.

Ice swallowed hard, darting his eyes around the kitchen. "You're crazy and lame." But... he moved anyway.

Kenji's lips tugged ever so slightly as he watched Ice walk toward him with an unbothered face.

Just when he thought he could have a little chance with his white-haired cat, Ice reached behind him and took the cup of black coffee.

"Next time..." Ice sipped the hot coffee, "upgrade your flirting skill and try again." He smirked, turning away from Kenji.

He had only taken a step when he gasped as Kenji gently caught his elbow, pulling his back flush against his own front.

"How about I upgrade my flirting skills now?" Kenji whispered against the shell of Ice's ear.

Ice's face flushed instantly, heat rushing up his neck and into his cheeks. The cup in his hand trembled, the dark liquid nearly spilling over the rim.

Kenji's hand closed over Ice's around the cup, large and warm and steady.

"Don't spill…" he whispered against Ice's ear, voice low and rough, "…not yet."

Ice was visibly shaken. His breath hitched, body going rigid against Kenji's bare chest. Still, he forced a tough scowl onto his face, refusing to let the reaction show completely.

"Back away," he muttered, voice tight. "Now."

Kenji didn't move.

Instead, he slid his free hand under the hem of Ice's oversized shirt, palm settling flat against the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen. The touch was slow, deliberate, and scorching.

"Make me," Kenji whispered, lips brushing the shell of Ice's ear. His fingers flexed slightly against Ice's stomach, feeling the way the muscles jumped beneath his touch.

"Or…" he continued, voice dropping even lower, almost a dare, "tell me if I'm allowed to slide my hand lower… and check whether my flirting skills are actually working or not."

"In your dreams," Ice muttered and stomped down on Kenji's foot, expecting his immediate release.

Instead, a hard spank followed, making his eyes widen and a very shameful sound escape his lips as the black liquid spilled over the rim onto the shiny floor.

"Bad kitten..." Kenji growled huskily against his neck. "You did that on purpose... you want to be punished—"

"Enough," Ice snapped and forced himself out of Kenji's hold, turning to face Kenji with a glare.

"You look flushed," Kenji pointed out calmly, admiring the way Ice's cheeks turned redder under his gaze and the way his fingers clutched the cup as he heaved.

He knew it was just a matter of time before he made the dismissive, arrogant man he met at the beach adjust his view of him.