Alexis wasn't supposed to be here.
Day five, and she was still waking up tangled in Egyptian sheets, bruised by a man who didn't know how to be soft but kept touching her like he was trying to learn.
She rolled over. The bed was empty.
Of course it was.
Kai wasn't the type to linger. Not in bed. Not in emotion. But something about this morning felt different. It felt like… he had.
She pulled herself up, sore in all the right ways, and padded barefoot to the massive window. The skyline glimmered. Her body ached. And her brain refused to forget the way he looked at her last night, right before dragging her onto the marble table and wrecking her like it was their last time.
Five more days.
Her phone buzzed.
Another reminder. Same countdown.
She closed it quickly.
"Why are you up?"
She startled. He was leaning against the doorframe, towel around his waist, still wet from a shower she hadn't heard him take.
"I live here now?" she said dryly.
"You live in my bed."
"Same thing."
A beat. Then a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Kai walked over slowly. She thought he'd pull her in for a kiss. Instead, he leaned down and pressed his nose to her neck.
"You smell different when you're thinking too much," he muttered.
She inhaled. "And you sound like a stalker."
His lips grazed her jaw. "Don't act surprised."
Then he stepped back.
"Get dressed. We're going out."
She blinked. "Out?"
"I want you in something short. Black. Tight. The kind of dress that makes me regret bringing you around people."
"So a funeral fit for my dignity."
"You'll be buried in moans by midnight if you behave."
Her thighs clenched. She hated how easily he said these things, like desire was his second language and she was already fluent.
The rooftop lounge was beautiful. All dark glass and low music and ridiculously expensive cocktails.
Kai didn't drink.
He just watched her like always. Like she might vanish if he blinked.
She was laughing, actually laughing, when she caught him glaring across the table.
"What?" she smiled.
"You laugh too loud."
"Maybe I'm happy."
He tilted his head, curious. "Is that what this is?"
She took a long sip of her drink. "No, this is me pretending not to care that you keep looking at me like you want to devour me in front of the staff."
"I do."
She flushed.
He leaned in. "Five days, Red."
Her chest tightened. "You're counting?"
"You think I'm letting you go without memorizing everything?"
She went still.
"That's not fair."
"You want me to be fair now?" he said, voice low. "After everything I've done to you?"
She opened her mouth. Closed it.
Because she didn't want fair. She wanted him.
Later, back at his place, she made a mistake.
She asked, "What happens after the last day?"
He didn't answer.
He just pushed her onto the bed and tore the dress she'd been so proud of. Lace ripped. Her name turned to air. He kissed her like punishment. F*cked her like a man who didn't know how to say stay.
In the aftermath, when her body was trembling and her mouth sore from biting her own moans, he whispered against her skin:
"Don't ask me questions you don't want the answers to."